Chapter Two

Amaya sat, brushing through her long brown hair, in front of the spotless vanity, the smell of expensive perfume choking her.

The girls never went easy with it.

The door swung open and five girls walked in, chatting in high and excited voices.

Amaya kept her head down, her brush pausing mid stroke as their words reached her ears.

“Tonight is definitely the night to show out.” One girl, Sera, said as she adjusted her earrins. “I hope I get chosen. I'd finally have a week out of this place.”

“God, a week out of this filth will do me good.” Another one, Sharon, said, pushing her hair back, “I’d do anything to not come back here. Anything.”

Amaya's grip on her brush tightened. A week away from Belle Époque would be more than enough time for her to escape. She would not miss anything about it - not the creaking beds, not the leering men and definitely not her fellow workers.

She had only been working at Belle Époque for three weeks and she'd never heard about this party and it was happening tonight?

“You girls always want to settle for less,” Mila, the queen bee of the group, said as she adjusted her lipstick in a compact mirror. “Why would you just wish to be taken for a week? So what, you're taken for a week? God bless you and you experience the good life a little and then you're back here.”

“For me, I'm going all out tonight. I'm putting on my best show. I'm getting chosen and trust me, I'm not going to be gone for just a week.” She continued, “My buyer is going to keep me because he can't have better than this.”

She motioned to her center while the other girls giggled, hanging on to her every word.

Amaya’s lips pressed into a thin line as she turned back to the mirror and continued running the brush through her hair.

She couldn't say that she hated Mila but the woman really enjoyed her job and it pissed Amaya off.

Just then, Mila's gaze landed on Amaya and her eyes narrowed.

“Hey, you.”

Amaya didn't turn immediately even though she knew Mila was referring to her.

“What are you staring at, huh?” She asked, her voice dripping with venom as usual.

She walked across the room to where Amaya sat, hells clicking on the marble floors as she went.

“Eavesdropping like some sneaky little rat?”

Amaya kept brushing her hair, slow and deliberate, knowing it was getting on Mila's nerves.

The queen bee always wanted to be feared but Amaya didn't have that to give.

““I’m just sitting here, Mila. Not my fault you’re loud enough for the whole house to hear.”

The other girls exchanged glances, their mouths hanging open. Mila's face twisted in anger, her eyes full of rage.

“You don't get to talk to me like that. I don't care who you think you are…”

Amaya rolled her eyes and scoffed, cutting Mila off, “Here we go again. What now? Customer didn't pay you after you bounced on it so hard?”

Mila stepped closer to Amaya's chair and in a split second, her hand cracked across Amaya's cheeks. The other girls gasped as the slap echoed across the room. Amaya's head snapped to the side and her hair pin fell to the floor. “Keep your nose out of my business or I'll make sure you regret it.”

Blinded by fury, Amaya rose to her feet, her hand whipping out faster than she thought was possible and slapped Mila back.

The force sent Mila stumbling, “You bitch!” she said, rubbing the cheek that stung. She charged at Amaya and the two collided in a furious struggle.

Mila grabbed a handful of Amaya's hair as her hair pins fell out. Pushing her back, Amaya grabbed one of the fallen pins and swung her back, the sharp tip grazing Mila's face just beneath her eye.

Mila screamed as her hands flew to the oozing cut. But before she could launch another attack, the door slammed open and Harlyn entered.

“What is going on here?”

Seeing Mila's face she said, “Go see Dr. Ramez now -”, then she turned to Amaya, “And you, follow me.”

****

“Amaya, do you realize what you've just done?” The man sitting behind the desk said, in a smooth low voice as he rubbed his hands, his eyes trained on Amaya. He was Sir William Carson, the owner of the brothel. “Do you realize you have just ruined one of my best dancers and tonight of all nights?”

He stared at Amaya for sometime, waiting for a reply.

“Mila’s face is ruined for tonight's party. She's out of commission and that's a problem for me. What do you have to say for yourself, Amaya?”

“She attacked me first,” Amaya replied in a husky voice.

“I don't care who attacked first.”

Amaya stood rigid, her jaw tight. She was still holding on to the pin she had attacked Mila with and as Sir William spoke, she watched the green vein by the side of his neck. She could just stick it in.

She would end up in jail but anywhere but here was better. But she held herself still, forcing the impulse down.

Sir William leaned back in his chair, “What got in your head, girl? You think you can waltz in here, three weeks on the job, and start swinging at my top earners? Mila's been working here for years and she's an asset. I do not joke with assets.”

His voice was calm. Too calm. Deceptive.

Amaya remained silent, her eyes fixed on him as if challenging him.

He rose from his seat, his movements deliberate as he rounded his desk and walked to where she stood, beside Harlyn.

“I'll let this slide with a warning, Amaya.” He leaned closer, his voice dripping to a chilling whisper. “Next time, I'll be sending postcards to that husband of yours. And everytime I send one, you'll be losing something. I'm thinking a tooth for starters. Or something prettier.”

Amaya's breath caught as the memories came flooding back.

Memories of that faithful Tuesday night that had turned her from a downtown florist to a strip club dancer.

It was a faithful Tuesday night. Amaya had gone to bed as usual after a long day at the flower shop, only to be awakened by her deadbeat husband, Nick.

He had beaten her, overpowered her and sold her to this hellhole to chase his stupid dreams in living in Tokyo.

Fuck him.

And fuck Tokyo.

Her world had shattered in that moment as the money exchanged hands and she was dragged into Belle Époque, the doors closing behind her like a tomb.

And now, here she was.

Sir William looked at her for a couple of seconds and out of nowhere, he smacked her face so hard she staggered backwards.

Without a word, he walked back towards his taboe while Harlyn, gripping Amaya's arm led her out.

“I'm getting out tonight,” She said as soon as they were out of the office. Her voice was low and venomous and her cheek still stung from Sir William’s slap. “I’ll be chosen at that damn party, and I’m leaving this hellhole for good.”

Harlyn turned to her, eyes filled with pity and amusement, “Oh, Amaya. Getting picked is not the ticket you think it is. One too many girls have returned here beaten up, bloodied, and broken by their buyers.”

“These men do not see you as more than something to control. Leaving only trades one cage for another.”