Traded to the mafia

"Ahh" The brunette let out a deep moan as she slumped onto the bed beside Jesse.

"That was, amazing." Her breathing was heavy, a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. She pulled the blanket up and closed her eyes, murmuring softly before drifting into sleep.

Jesse remained still for a moment, his gaze fixed on her peaceful face. He slowly slid out of bed, careful not to disturb her. Moving with quiet purpose, he began to gather his clothes from the floor and straighten the room.

As he folded a shirt, he muttered to himself, "It's all about timing."

The stirred slightly, her voice muffled by sleep. "What're you saying?"

"Nothing," Jesse said, his tone even. "Just thinking out loud. Go back to sleep."

She hummed softly and rolled onto her side, clutching the pillow.

Jesse continued, his actions deliberate as he checked his watch. "Tomorrow," he whispered.

Jesse stood in front of the mirror, buttoning his shirt with steady hands. The quiet room was broken by a sharp knock at the door. He paused, glancing toward it.

"Come in," he said evenly.

The door creaked open, revealing a young man in a dark coat. His face was tense, and he stepped inside quickly, closing the door behind him.

"Sir," the man began, his voice low but urgent, "we found him. Binks Gale. He's in the boroughs-with a woman."

Jesse's movements slowed. He finished buttoning his shirt, then turned to face the man. His expression was calm, but his eyes were cold. "Binks Gale," he repeated, as if testing the name. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir. One of our men saw him. They're holed up in a small flat, but they won't stay there long."

Jesse stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "I want him brought to me. Quickly. No mistakes."

The man nodded. "Understood. And the woman?"

Jesse's eyes narrowed slightly. "She's not my concern. But if she gets in the way-" He let the sentence hang, his meaning clear.

The subordinate swallowed hard. "We won't fail, sir."

Jesse tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "See that you don't. You know what happens if you do."

"Yes, sir," the man said firmly, turning to leave.

As the door closed behind him, Jesse adjusted his cuffs, his movements precise. "Binks Gale," he muttered to himself, the name carrying a quiet promise.

Jesse walked out of the hotel room without looking back. The woman on the bed clutched the sheets around her, her wide eyes following him.

"Jesse," she called softly, fear in her voice. "What are you going to do?"

He didn't answer. His footsteps were measured, his expression blank. Reaching the door, he paused only to adjust his jacket, then left without another word. The click of the door closing behind him was final.

---

Bianca pushed open the door to her small apartment, her heels in one hand and her purse in the other. She froze when she saw the mess inside. Clothes were scattered across the floor, and empty beer bottles cluttered the table.

"Binks!" she shouted, kicking the door shut behind her.

Her older brother appeared from the kitchen, a sandwich in his hand and a lazy grin on his face. "Hey, kiddo."

"Are you kidding me?" Bianca snapped, dropping her things on the couch. "What is all this? You've trashed my place again!"

"Relax," Binks said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "I'll clean it up later."

"No, you won't!" she shot back. "You never do! Why are you even here? I told you, I can't keep bailing you out!"

Binks leaned against the counter, avoiding her glare. "I just needed a place to crash, okay? It's no big deal."

Bianca crossed her arms, her voice heavy with frustration. "It is a big deal. You can't keep showing up like this, leaving me to deal with everything. What are you running from this time?"

He shrugged, his eyes darting away. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"That's what you always say!" Bianca exclaimed. "And every time, it ends up blowing up in my face!"

Binks stayed silent, his grin fading.

Bianca sighed, rubbing her temples. "Clean this up, Binks. I mean it. I've had enough."

She turned away, heading for her room and slamming the door behind her. Binks stood alone in the messy apartment, his sandwich forgotten on the counter.

Bianca sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Binks lounged on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV. The sound of gunfire from an action movie filled the small apartment. She sighed, her eyes narrowing as she watched him.

"I can't believe I let you stay," she muttered.

Binks didn't look up. "You didn't have much of a choice, did you?"

She set her mug down with a loud clink. "I have enough problems, Binks. You being here makes everything worse."

He finally turned to face her, smirking. "What's the big deal? I'm not hurting anyone."

"Not yet," she shot back. "But you always bring trouble. What are you hiding this time?"

His smirk faded. "I'm not hiding anything," he said, his tone defensive.

Bianca leaned forward, her voice sharp. "Don't lie to me. You show up out of nowhere, trash my place, and avoid every question I ask. What's going on?"

"I told you, it's nothing!" Binks snapped, standing up. "Just drop it."

"I can't!" Bianca yelled, standing too. "Do you know how much I've sacrificed for you? And for what? You won't even tell me the truth!"

Binks looked away, his jaw tight. "You don't get it," he muttered.

"Then make me understand!" she demanded, her voice breaking. "What are you so afraid of?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "I need some air," he said flatly, slamming it behind him.

Bianca sat back down, her head in her hands. The apartment felt colder, emptier. She stared at the mess he'd left behind, her chest tightening with a mix of anger and fear.

"Why do I even bother?" she whispered to herself, but the silence offered no answers.

Across town, Jesse walked through an alley... He checked his watch, then glanced at the photo in his hand-Binks Gale. His eyes hardened.

"No loose ends," he murmured to himself before disappearing into the shadows.

Bianca jolted awake at the sound of a loud bang, her heart racing. A man she didn't recognize stood in her room, aiming a gun at her.

"Get up," he ordered.

She stared, frozen in fear. "Who are you? What's going on?"

"Move," he barked, cutting off her questions.

She scrambled out of bed, clutching a sheet to cover herself. The cold air bit at her skin as she grabbed her robe and slipped it on. The man motioned her toward the door.

In the hallway, she froze at the sound of grunts and blows. "Binks," she whispered, dread sinking in.

"Keep walking," the man growled, pressing the gun to her back.

When she reached the living room, she saw her brother on the floor, beaten and bloodied. Two other men stood over him, one with brass knuckles.

"Leave her out of this," Binks rasped. "She's got nothing to do with it."

One of the men kicked him hard. "Shut up," he snarled.

Bianca stifled a sob, helpless to stop the violence. Before she could act, a bag was shoved over her head, and rough hands dragged her away.

---

In a dimly lit warehouse, Jesse walked in, his presence commanding. His men stood at attention as he approached Binks, who lay slumped on the floor.

"Binks Gale," Jesse said coolly. "You've been a thorn in my side for too long."

"Please," Binks begged, his voice trembling. "I'll pay you back. Just give me time."

Jesse smirked. "Time? You had plenty, and you wasted it."

Before Binks could reply, Jesse's gaze shifted to Bianca, dragged into the room by his men. Her disheveled appearance and wide eyes caught his attention.

"Who's this?" Jesse asked sharply.

"She's his sister," one of the men answered.

Jesse studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Take her to the safe house," he ordered. "And don't touch her. Not a single hair."

Bianca opened her mouth to protest, but the cold look in Jesse's eyes silenced her. She was whisked away, leaving her brother behind.

---

Bianca sat on the bed, tense and nervous. The door opened, and Jesse walked in. His suit was perfect, and his eyes locked on her. He stopped and smiled when he saw her in the black lace outfit.

"Beautiful," he said, his deep voice making her shiver.

He stepped closer, and she backed away. Jesse paused, watching her.

"We haven't met properly," he said. "I'm Jesse Irons. And you're Bianca."

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Your brother owes me money," Jesse said. "He tried to steal from me. I don't let people get away with that."

Bianca's stomach tightened. "I didn't steal anything. This has nothing to do with me."

Jesse smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It has everything to do with you. You begged for his life, and now I have a plan for you."

She frowned. "What kind of plan?"

"You'll work for me," Jesse said. "I own clubs, and you'll dance in them. Not just strip-perform. Make people watch you."

She blinked, confused. "That's it? Just dancing?"

Jesse stepped closer, his hand brushing her strap. She flinched, and he pulled back. His eyes stayed on her.

"No," he said. "You'll also be mine. My woman. You'll live with me, follow my rules, and stay by my side. Do this, and your brother lives."

Bianca's heart raced. "And if I say no?"

Jesse's smile faded. "Then your brother dies. Maybe you too."

She stared at him, feeling trapped. He didn't look angry, but there was no kindness in his face. She didn't have a choice.

"Fine," she whispered. "I'll do it."

Jesse smirked. "Good girl. You made the right choice."...

Bianca stood frozen, staring at Jesse as her brother disappeared into the taxi. Her relief quickly turned to dread when she noticed the white bandage on Binks's hand.

"What did you do to him?" she asked, her voice low and trembling.

Jesse didn't respond immediately. He smirked, looking out over the balcony as though her anger amused him.

"Hmm?" he said finally, turning to her.

"You did something to him!" she snapped, her voice rising. "What did you do?"

"Oh, relax," Jesse said casually, waving a hand. "I only took off a finger or two. I can't remember. It's just his left hand. He'll manage."

Bianca's eyes filled with tears. "You promised to let him go unharmed! You lied to me!"

Jesse chuckled, shaking his head. "I kept my promise, darling. He's alive, isn't he? I never said anything about him leaving unscathed. That's on you for assuming."

Her frustration boiled over. "You bastard!" she yelled, raising her hand to slap him.

Before her hand could connect, Jesse grabbed her wrist in a tight grip. His expression darkened, and in an instant, he had her pinned against the wall.

"You don't get to do that," he said calmly, though his tone carried an edge that made her shiver. He tightened his grip slightly, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Let me go," she gasped, struggling.

Jesse's hold didn't loosen. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and cold. "I don't appreciate being disrespected. I've been patient with you, Bianca. Don't push me."

Her breath came in short, shaky gasps as fear overwhelmed her.

After a tense moment, he released her. She stumbled slightly, pressing a hand to her neck and gulping in air.

Jesse stepped back, straightening his suit. He tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to look at him again. "You'll learn, eventually. But for now, consider this a warning."

He let her go and turned to leave, his movements calm and deliberate. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Bianca trembling and alone.

She sank onto the floor, clutching her knees to her chest as tears streamed down her face. **What have you done, Bianca?** she thought miserably. **What have you agreed to?*

Bianca was shoved into the sleek black car, her hands trembling despite her efforts to appear calm. She didn't fight it. What was the point? Jesse's men wouldn't hesitate to put her in her place, and she had already decided to endure whatever came her way for Binks's sake.

At least Jesse wasn't here. A bulky henchman sat beside her in the back seat, his face devoid of emotion.

"Where are we going?" Bianca asked, her voice firm despite her nerves.

The man didn't answer.

"Fine, don't tell me," she muttered under her breath, turning her attention to the city lights blurring past.

The car slowed, then came to a stop. Confused, Bianca leaned forward to look out the tinted window, but before she could make sense of the barren surroundings, a rough hand clamped over her arm.

"Don't struggle," the henchman ordered as a black hood was yanked over her head.

"What-" Bianca's words were cut off as the fabric tightened around her face. She thrashed instinctively, panic rising, but a sharp tug on her arm froze her.

"Boss's orders," the man growled. "Stay still, and you'll be fine."

Bianca bit back a scream, her breath quick and shallow beneath the hood. Her mind raced, imagining the worst. Was this it? Was Jesse planning to kill her now?

The car resumed its journey, the hum of the engine a sinister soundtrack to her spiraling thoughts. Time blurred as she tried to focus on staying calm.

When the car stopped again, Bianca was roughly pulled out. She stumbled, her disorientation complete as she was led blindly through what felt like a maze. The muffled thump of club music grew louder, vibrating through the ground beneath her heels.

The hood was ripped off without warning, and Bianca blinked against the dim red lights. Her breath hitched as she took in her surroundings-a lavish dressing room filled with women in revealing outfits. They stared at her, a mix of curiosity and indifference in their eyes.

"Ladies!" A cheerful voice with a thick British accent called out. A wiry man in a tailored suit strolled into the room. "This is Bianca, your new colleague. Treat her nicely-or don't. I don't care. Just make sure she's ready for tonight."

The man turned to Bianca, giving her an exaggerated once-over. "Hope you can dance, love. If not, you'll learn fast." He smirked and left, slamming the door behind him.

Bianca stood frozen, her eyes darting around the room. A girl with a sleek bob approached her, offering a friendly smile.

"Don't mind him. I'm Valentina. You must be new."

Bianca nodded hesitantly. "Yeah. I guess I am."

Valentina's smile widened. "Stick with me. I'll help you get through this."

Bianca followed Valentina to an empty vanity. As they sat, Bianca whispered, "What kind of place is this?"

"It's Jesse's underground club," Valentina said casually, like she was stating the weather. "It's exclusive. High rollers, mobsters, and the 'masters,' as we call them."

"Masters?" Bianca frowned.

"They're Jesse's top clients. If you impress tonight, you'll get to work privately for them. It's... better than the crowd, trust me."

Bianca wasn't sure she agreed. She glanced at the other girls, each stunning and confident, their movements practiced and precise. A pang of insecurity hit her.

"Don't worry," Valentina said, sensing her doubt. "You'll do fine. Just survive tonight."

As Valentina helped her pick out an outfit-a daring silver corset and matching stilettos-Bianca tried to steady her nerves. She caught her reflection in the mirror and barely recognized herself. The lingerie left little to the imagination, and the heavy makeup made her look older, harder.

"You've got this," Valentina said, giving her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

Bianca forced a small smile, but her heart raced. The club doors opened, and the pounding music grew louder.

The time had come. She stepped into the dim, smoky room, every eye turning toward her. Bianca clenched her fists, forcing herself to walk forward.

**One night at a time,** she told herself. **I just have to survive this.**

---

The smoky haze in the air thickened as Valentina led Bianca through the dimly lit club, guiding her toward the center stage. The strippers' platform gleamed under the spotlight, an island in the middle of the sprawling room. Every eye in the house was fixed on it-the focal point for the night's entertainment.

Bianca hesitated at the edge of the stage, her legs trembling beneath her. The layout of the club only amplified her dread: the VIP booths ringed the platform, while overflow areas and the general crowd all funneled their attention toward her. The unspoken rule for new strippers was clear-she would perform solo, judged by the crowd and, more importantly, by Jesse and the elusive "masters."

The lights dimmed as a heavy, pulsing beat filled the room. A rocky tune blared over the speakers, the lyrics taunting her to move.

"You got this," Valentina whispered, giving her a nudge.

Bianca took a shaky step forward, her heart hammering in her chest. She caught sight of Jesse, his cold gaze piercing through the shadows. It was enough to force her body into action. She gripped the pole, her hands slick with sweat, and began to move.

Her curves swayed to the rhythm, each beat coaxing her into a trance-like state. The room melted away as she let muscle memory take over, twisting and curling around the pole with surprising fluidity. Her hips rolled, her body bending and arching with a grace she hadn't realized she possessed.

The crowd roared its approval, their cheers a mix of excitement and predatory hunger. But the more Bianca danced, the more she felt trapped, as though she was feeding a pack of wolves with no escape in sight.

She forced herself to push through, sliding into a final, dramatic pose. Her back arched, legs spread, leaving nothing to the imagination. The room erupted into applause, but Bianca's mind was elsewhere. She scanned the crowd, her gaze darting back to Jesse.

"I need to talk to him," she thought. "I can't keep doing this. Not like this."

The music cut out, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake. A drunken man in the crowd leered at her, stepping closer to the stage.

"Come here, girl. Let me feel those curves," he called, his voice slurred.

"No, no. I get first dibs," another chimed in, his eyes bloodshot and ravenous. He stumbled toward the stage, reaching out as if to grab her.

Bianca froze, her breath catching in her throat. Panic clawed at her as she backed away, her legs unsteady.

"Enough!" Jesse's voice boomed through the room, freezing everyone in place.

The tension snapped like a rubber band as the men retreated, muttering under their breath. Jesse rose from his seat, his expression dark and commanding.

"She's done for tonight," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Step down."

Bianca obeyed, climbing down from the stage with unsteady legs. Jesse's gaze never wavered as he motioned for her to follow him.

The whispers and laughter of the crowd faded as Jesse led her toward a private lounge. The moment the door shut behind them, his demeanor shifted.

"How dare you?" he growled, his voice low but menacing.

Bianca turned, startled, only to realize she had accidentally knocked over a glass of champagne onto his tailored suit. The liquid dripped down his jacket, pooling at his shoes.

"I'm so sorry!" she stammered, fumbling for a napkin. "I didn't mean to-"

Her apology was cut short as Jesse grabbed her wrist, yanking her toward him.

"You're here to pay off your brother's debt," he snarled, his grip unrelenting. "But clearly, you're not up to the task."

Bianca's vision blurred with tears. "Please, I- I'm trying. I'll do better."

"Trying isn't enough," Jesse spat, his cold gaze boring into hers.

Her legs buckled, and she collapsed against him, her body trembling with exhaustion. She felt her strength leaving her, the weight of the night finally crashing down.

"Get up," Jesse ordered, his voice as sharp as a blade.

Bianca clung to his arm, her tears soaking into his sleeve. "I can't," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't do this anymore."

For a moment, Jesse said nothing, his jaw tightening as he stared down at her. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he let her go, her body crumpling to the floor.

"Get yourself together," he said coldly, turning toward the door. "You don't have the luxury of falling apart."

The door slammed behind him, leaving Bianca alone in the suffocating silence. She curled into herself, the weight of her situation pressing down like a vice. **Survive. Just survive.** It was the only mantra that kept her breathing.