"If you lose my sister again, I will slice your balls off with a rusty penknife!" Thea's parting shot still rang in my ears, along with her other colorful threats. I had to give it to her: the woman was wonderfully creative when describing how she'd maim me if I failed in my mission.
For anyone else, insulting the head of the Irish mafia would be a death sentence. But as always, Thea got away with it. Mostly because I genuinely liked her. Still, a bit of respect wouldn't go amiss.
As I hovered on the hostel's steps, questioning my life choices, three girls in bikinis and bare feet stumbled out of the shabby entrance, giggling and waving a bottle of cheap wine around. I watched with distaste as one of them promptly threw up all over an aloe plant. She didn't seem at all bothered as she wiped her mouth, grabbed the bottle, and gulped more wine down.
"You staying here?" slurred her marginally less drunk friend, eying my crisp white shirt, custom-tailored pants, and PatekPhilippe Nautilus. Several feet away, Ash and Connor hovered under the shadow of an enormous olive tree, watching the scene. I scowled when I heard Ash snort with laughter.
"Do I look like I belong in a shit hole like this?" It was a rhetorical question, but the girl frowned and scanned me from head to toe.
When she hiccupped and stumbled in my direction, mouth gaping open to say something almost certainly inane, I swerved out of her way and stepped into the hostel's lobby. The sooner I found Verity, the better. This place made my skin crawl. No way had it passed a health inspection. It was probably infested with roaches and flesh-eating bacteria. Not to mention virulent, antibiotic-resistant STIs.
"I'm looking for this girl." The long-haired waste of oxygen sitting behind the reception desk barely looked up. From the stench of weed that clung to his dirty blue tee, this idiot wasn't on a management pathway. Or any pathway.
"Girl?" He reluctantly pushed his phone to one side and glanced at the photo of Verity on my screen.
"She's staying here," I gritted out before he could deny knowing her.
His eyes narrowed. "How do you know she's staying here? We take data protectionveryseriously at the Blue Lagoon Hostel."
I stared back at him, wondering if this was a wind-up. Attempting to look more intimidating, he puffed his chest out and sat up a little straighter, but a small flicker of disquiet registered in his eyes. The numbing effect of the weed must be wearing off.
"I know she's staying here, so once again, where is she?" My fingers tapped on the scuffed counter while the idiot stared up at me. A phone pinged, and we both looked down to see he had a Tinder match.Chiara, 19.
"I think she's…out." His throat bobbed nervously. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Out where?" I kept my voice nice and calm, but the more he deflected, the more I wanted to haul him over the counter and teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget.
"Work, I think." His gaze slid down to his phone where the lovely Chiara awaited. Honestly, I was doing her a favor. A date with this clown would be a waste of her time. Of any woman's time.
"You think?" My jaw ticked in irritation. I grabbed his phone, ignoring his squeak of protest.
"OK! So she's working at the Horizon Club onSan Berillo! Last night she got back around 4 AM! Please, give me my phone back!"
"See? That wasn't so difficult." I squeezed his scuffed iPhone in my fist, enjoying the satisfying crunch of glass breaking under pressure. "Here you go." He took his ruined phone without a murmur as sweat trickled down his chalky white face. "I'll be sure to give this place a five-star rating on Google," I told him as I turned to leave.
It was time to visit the Horizon Club. Verity might want her independence, but I'd promised Thea I would send her back to the States.
She could scream and call me every name under the sun, but it wouldn't make one iota of difference. The sooner Verity was out of my hair, the better.
37
Verity
The dress Luna left for me to wear for tonight's private function made the spandex shorts and crop top with the club's logo I'd worn the previous night look positively demure.
I cringed at my reflection in the mirror. The scraps of fabric laughingly called a dress barely covered my tits, and unless I lowered the straps ever further, at which point my nipples would make a bid for freedom, my ass was on show.
Since I barely scraped five-feet-nothing, I felt sorry for any taller women forced to wear this abomination to fashion. Honestly, I may as well have been naked at this point.
"You ready?" Luna yelled through the door as I pulled on the silver shoes she'd kindly left me. At least they fitted.
Luna gave me a brief once-over when I exited the grubby changing room. Loud music sent vibrations through my body as she led me down a corridor and through a metal door I hadn't noticed before.
Once inside the surprisingly large room, the noise from the main part of the club lessened, like this room had additional sound-proofing. A few men in suits stood around with drinksin their hands while soft music played. Anticipation hummed in the air. A sense that something exciting was coming. Something these men had paid good money for.
I stared at the decor while trying to ignore the sensation in my gut that being here was a terrible idea. While the main part of the club was reasonably high-class and catered to business types, this room was a step up with plush leather seating, subtle lighting, and low-key music rather than dance anthems.
There were several tables, all facing a small stage to the left. Three young women I hadn't seen before worked behind the polished bar at the far end. Like me, they wore skimpy dresses, but unlike me, they seemed comfortable.
