Silk & Steel: A Mafia Romance | ENGLOT

Chapter 11: Bought and Paid For

"Come on," she said, her voice a curt command. Contessa hesitated, her legs rooted to the spot.

Her stomach churned like a washing machine on high spin. The Gilded Cage loomed large, its gaudy facade a sickening reminder of her past.

But something had shifted within her. Fear was still present, a cold serpent coiling around her heart, but it was overshadowed by a simmering anger. She wouldn't be a pawn in Wyvern's game, wouldn't be dragged back into this gilded cage without a fight.

"No," she said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in her legs. "I'm not going in there."

Wyvern raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before it smoothed back into its usual stoicism. "And what exactly do you propose we do then, Contessa? Drive around all night while you have a tantrum?" Her voice was laced with a hint of amusement, a taunt designed to provoke.

Contessa squared her shoulders, meeting Wyvern's gaze head-on. "Tell me what you're really planning," she demanded. "Why bring me back here? What game are you playing?"

Wyvern studied her for a long moment, her eyes like dark coffee. "A necessary one," she finally said, her voice low. "But trust me, it has nothing to do with returning you to that... establishment." She paused, a flicker of something akin to sympathy crossing her features. "I wouldn't subject anyone to that hellhole, especially not you."

Contessa's heart hammered against her ribs, a war raging within her. A part of her wanted to believe Wyvern, another part screamed caution. Five days locked in a room had done little to inspire trust.

"Then tell me," she pressed, her voice gaining strength. "Why are we here?"

"Just get out the car Bella, you're wasting my time." Wyvern growled, Contessa flinched, but before she could retreat, Wyvern's hand clamped onto her arm, a steely grip that propelled her out of the car and towards the Gilded Cage's entrance. 

The club wasn't bustling yet. The night was young, and the patrons wouldn't start filtering in for another hour or two. Wyvern, her hand now firmly on the small of Contessa's back, propelled her towards the entrance. The crimson dress swished around Contessa's legs, a stark contrast to the dingy carpet.  As they pushed open the heavy oak door, a wave of stale perfume and the cloying scent of cheap liquor washed over them.

The open doors revealed a familiar figure behind the bar.  Marco, polishing glasses, humming a tune under his breath.

"Hey, Marco," Contessa called out, her voice trembling slightly.

Marco's head snapped up, his eyes widening in surprise. Relief dawned on his face, followed by a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like fear. He glanced nervously at Wyvern, his jaw clenching.

"Contessa?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Where have you been?"

Before Contessa could answer, Wyvern stepped closer, her arm possessively snaking around Contessa's waist.  The touch sent a jolt through Contessa, a confusing mix of anger and a strange flutter in her stomach.

"Where's Mama June?" Wyvern asked, her voice laced with an icy authority, eyes trained on Marco.

Marco's eyes darted between them, fear flickering across his face. "M-Mama June?" he stammered. "She's, uh... not here yet."

Wyvern's grip on Contessa tightened, a silent threat that did not go unnoticed.  "Don't play dumb, boy," she said, her voice low and dangerous.  "I know she's here.  And I want to see her... now."