Immigrant girl

Chapter 19. Anya.

I stood in the middle of the VIP lounge, completely bewildered. Around me, there was a terrible mess. Napkins scattered on the floor, empty bottles, and dirty glasses.

Should I clean this up? Or can I just go home? My legs felt like jelly, and I slumped onto the couch, tears welling up. There they were again, those damn tears. As if they would make me feel any better. Well, maybe just a little. I buried my face in my hands and sat there for probably twenty minutes, until a fit of hysterics overcame me, and I started gasping for air. I needed to pull myself together. I wiped the tears from my face, smearing mascara in the process.

I got up and headed for the bar counter to look at myself in the mirror and freshen up. Staring at my reflection, I grinned. You've landed yourself in quite a mess, Anya. What are you going to do now?

Well, I thought, first things first, I should probably clean up here. I washed my face, grabbed a cloth from the bar, and retrieved a trash can from the closet. Slowly working my way around the room, I wiped down the tables and chairs, collected the garbage, and began to calm down gradually. My thoughts fell into order, and my breathing returned to normal. Cleaning, a seemingly mundane task, helped me regain a sense of normalcy.

Once all the trash was disposed of, and every surface sparkled, I fetched a mop and filled a bucket with water and cleaning solution. Methodically, I mopped the floor, my thoughts drifting back to the moment they led Alex out of the room in handcuffs. He was smiling at me, devoid of worry or fear, which meant I shouldn't panic either; he had everything under control.

Finishing mopping, I surveyed the room with satisfaction. It was as clean as an operating room. Now, I could finally go home.

I exited the VIP lounge, locked the door, and turned to see Alex's office door wide open. I hesitated but curiosity got the better of me. Stepping inside cautiously, I exhaled sharply. Chaos reigned inside. Books from numerous bookshelves were scattered on the floor, the drawers of the desk were pulled out completely, and their contents were strewn across the desk. Some papers lay on the floor. It was a nightmare. Only at that moment did I truly realize the kind of people I was now living with. This was the real, dangerous, and unpredictable mafia. Little me among the wolves.

I stood there for another minute and then swiftly headed for the stairs, descending quickly to the dressing room. It felt like I was the only one left in the building. I didn't encounter a single soul. It made me feel a little eerie.

I changed my clothes in hurry and went outside. At the door, I ran into two security guards. Well, at least the club wouldn't be left open.

I stood on the sidewalk and realized that for the first time since I started working at the club, nobody would give me a ride home. I felt incredibly sad and lonely. You got used to the good life quickly, Anya. Stupid. I pulled out my phone to order a taxi to take me home.

"Miss Stern, need a ride?"

I jumped out of my skin when I heard the audacious voice with a British accent. Agent Davis. What the hell was he doing here? He had left with Alex and Caleb. Slowly turning towards him, I spoke, trying to sound as calm as possible.

"Agent Davis, I presume?" He smirked and nodded. "I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you were supposed to accompany Mr. Dovlatov and Mr. Mitchell to the precinct." I tried to keep my composure. He was an FBI agent, after all. Davis stood, leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his uniform jacket.

"I've already escorted them, and my presence there is currently unnecessary," he said. How much time had I spent cleaning up? I quickly glanced at my phone. 3 AM?! Well, time sure flies when you're not paying attention. "So, can I give you a ride? It's late, and a young, beautiful lady like you shouldn't be standing alone on an empty street." Davis smiled amiably, but I knew there was a hidden agenda behind that smile. He clearly wanted something from me.