Rescued by the Mob
Sitting in a dark room a young woman listened to the women upstairs as they serviced the men who purchased them for the night. Unfortunately she was not here because she had a choice. She had been in this house for eight years. The young woman's father had a gambling problem and her mother had disappeared long ago, no doubt sent here and died to pay her husband's debts. He gambled every cent they had, if there was any money it wasn't for long. Soon he started taking loans, losing the Houses' money and it was either pay them back or give up something. If he had just given up a limb or even his life she'd have been somewhere happier.
Sixteen years old and plunged into a world where women used their bodies more than their minds. Doing anything and everything since they were being paid to do it. She seldom serviced anyone because, let's face it, who wanted the company of a fat, freckled, red head, eyes too big for her face, glasses close by so as to rid herself of a headache. Often used for yard work or cooking trying to pay the debt of a dead man.
She was in this room because she had attacked a John when he hit one of the girls. A full refund and loss of a customer was the price of the house and her punishment was a dark hole for a day and a beating. Clutching her legs she used a finger to write a letter in the dirt. More or less just sending a message out to her mother that she was missed, what her father had done to her. How she wished she had left with her mother all those years ago. Tears welled up in her eyes, she brushed them away refusing to let even a single tear fall.
The creaking of the door pulled her attention away from simple wants; shielding her eyes she saw an older woman, Selma, the woman she'd attacked the man for, stood in the light holding her hand out.
"Come now sweetie, you have a request." Selma said as she took her hand.
"Viktor?" She asked as the fat lip and black eye came into view. One swing and she was damaged goods til she healed.
Though it was mild compared to the black eye, fat lip, and bruised cheek from a beating from the Master of the house for losing business, never mind that one of the girls were hit, but because she had taken a swing at a short fat business man and made contact. Wife Beating pig.
"Sweetheart, I've warned you about standing up to these men. I'm fine, need to watch out for yourself." Selma scolded her leading the way to a private room upstairs.
"Selma, you've been like a mother of me since I was tossed in here. I refuse to let some fat pig hit you so he can get his rocks off. A couple bruises is a small price to pay." She said wincing with each step.
"You know how much Viktor hates seeing you bruised." Selma said knowing the girl would get another scolding from the older man for not being smarter.
"He likes talking, let's me wear my glasses. He's taught me Italian, Spanish, Russian. I'm fluent in all three, he's like a father. He's never once touched me, knows I hate it with a passion beyond that of Sue." She said naming a woman who took three men a night, often all at once.
Selma laughed at that and when they came to the burgundy door with two body guards outside it, they hugged and wished her luck. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her hair in front of her face and looked at the floor waiting for one of the men to open the door. It creaked slow and she stepped in not wanting to look up at Viktor. She stayed at the door looking at the ground, this was a safe room, no harm came to her here.
"I've got you a new pair of glasses Dolci, and it would appear not a moment too soon. I saw the shattered lenses and frames in the parlor." He said and when she flinched he groaned.
"Thank you, Viktor." She said reaching out not wanting to look up at him. He often called her Dolci, which is Italian for Sweets.
"Look at me and I will give them to you." He ordered and rose from the chair at the foot of the bed.
She unfortunately didn't have time to hide the bruising, Selma would often help her so when and if Viktor came by he wouldn't see how severe the bruising was. The bruises were bright like a burning star. Soon his black Versace shoes were in her line of sight with the hem of his black tailored pants meeting the tops. His cane clutched in his hand and his ruby ring twinkled on his left hand on his ring finger set in a gold band. His wife had adored rubies when she was alive. My glasses case was in his other hand where another band set with onyx gems glistened.
"Look at me. Now." He said softly, yet still demanding.
"I can not." She whispered so her voice wouldn't break. Her flaming red hair was thick enough that she didn't worry about him seeing her face.
He took another step closer and placed his index finger under her chin and slowly pulled her gaze to his. Her eyes slowly rose to meet his deep green gaze the instant they met his the fury she saw was evident the second he saw her left eye, it had a broken blood vessel, blackened by bruises along with her left cheek, the bruising continued down her neck to her arm where the imprint from his hand was outlined by a red and black bruise. His knuckles turned white with the grip on his cane tightening.
"I shall return." He simply said and walked briskly out of the door.
Viktor walked to the door and told the men to let no one else into that room until he returned, leading one of the men with him as he left. The woman fell to the floor and sat on her knees fearful of another beating.
Viktor entered the Master of the house's study with one guard behind him.
"Viktor, done so soon?" He teased folding his hands on the paperwork on his desk.
"She will be leaving with me. Her father's debt is long paid off. She will leave with me or else." Viktor said simply, leaving no room for argument.
"Out of the question. She is my property and will remain as such." The Master said as if he had a choice.
"It was not a request. She leaves with me or my guard will make an adjustment to you and she leaves while you bleed." Viktor said as a man with coal black hair stepped forward with his hands folded behind his back, as if gripping something.
The Master looked to the man. A towering six foot five, he guessed, a tailored black suit, much the same of his boss. The man didn't shake the Master. He simply leaned back in his chair and chuckled.
"The fat bitch isn't even for sale, Viktor, she will stay and.." A resounding wack echoed through the building as a cane came across the Master's face sending him crashing to the floor taking a vase and lamp to the floor.
The shattering noise echoed through the house shocking the young woman in question. Viktor took his cane back to his side as he walked over to where the Master lay on the floor coughing up blood and teeth. Viktor placed the bottom of his cane on his hand and leaned in close.
"I don't much care for such language unfortunately and said language being used towards an innocent young woman sparks my ire. Adding the language and what you did to her, tends to not paint a pretty picture. So while you bring yourself from the floor I'll be taking my leave with the young woman. Her father's debt is paid." Viktor sneered and put his full weight on the cane resulting in shattering the Master's hand.
The snap sounded followed by his screams of pain. Viktor swung his cane effectively knocking the Master unconscious. Walking past his guard he handed him the bloodied wooden cane and took the blackened metal one he'd had behind his back. Viktor continues walking as his guard breaks the cane over his knee and tosses it into the roaring fire place.
"Sir." His guard said as he followed him down the corridor.
"Take my coat, cover the girl she's been exposed enough for this life time. Send for the car. Make an appointment with Sasha and tell him I'm calling in a favor." Viktor said passing the large coat to his guard as he nodded to the one at the door who took a running start out the front door.
The men complied quickly. Once she was wrapped Viktor picked her up from the floor keep her hidden as they moved through the house. Dolci was unsure of where she was being taken, but she hid inside Viktor's arms shielding herself with her hair and his jacket. When a car door opened and she felt cold leather under her bare legs she knew Viktor had finally fulfilled his promise and was taking her away.
As the car lurched forward Viktor game her a bottle of ice water.
"Sir, Sasha will be in your office within the hour and Ms. Carthanis has been informed and is preparing a room." A deep voice vibrates through the speakers in the back of the car startling the woman.
"Good, thank you." Viktor said turning his attention back to the woman.
"What is your name? You no longer need to go by anything else." He said when she pulled the bottle from her lips.
"Persephone. My mother often called me Seph." She said smiling glad to be using her name for the first time in eight years.
"Seph it is." Viktor smiled as the car drove down the freeway to a world she had not seen in many years. Maybe have a question or two answered.