Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Shit. Rouge did notice.
“I started the conversation,” I say. “She was just being polite, answering me. We exchanged names, that’s all.”
Rouge raises an eyebrow. “Be that is it may, rules are rules. I assure you that Seven will be allowed to return to service when she learns to behave as Aces Underground policy dictates. In the meantime, be assured that she’s being well taken care of.” She gestures to the bar. “Why don’t you get yourself a drink? I’ve already arranged for the club to take care of your bill this evening as a gesture of goodwill, a courtesy for your trouble.”
I breathe in.
I was the one who broke the rules, and I’m being rewarded? I was honestly shocked that Chet even allowed me inside, even as Maddox’s guest, after I came in by myself this afternoon. I open my mouth to protest the free drinks, but before I do so, Rouge gives me a dismissive nod and disappears into the crowd, blending in despite her atrocious attire.
May has been suspended, and it’s all my bloody fault.
At least, I’ve been told that she’s suspended.
I can’t help but worry that she’s met with some far darker fate.
I shake my head to clear it. I’ve been watching too many scary shows on TV of late. Things like that don’t happen in real life.
Do they?
I run my hands through my hair as I walk back to the table where Maddox is sitting. Our drinks have arrived, and he’s gently sipping at his.
He puts his drink down and flashes me a smile. “Feeling better?”
I sit down. “Not at all, Maddox.” I sear my gaze into his. “I fear something awful has happened.”
26
MADDOX
I stare at Alissa. “What?”
She swallows. “Rouge knows that May spoke to me. I denied it, but I accidentally let slip that I knew her name earlier today, and she’s been”—air quotes—“suspended.”
I take a sip of my drink. “So she gets a small vacation. Doesn’t seem too bad to me.”
“Yeah, if that’s what actually happened.” She leans in and lowers her voice. “What if something worse happened to her?”
I frown. “Alissa, this is just an underground bar and club. Rouge keeps a very specific aesthetic, and Seven broke it when—”
“May.”
I nod. “Sure. May broke it when she spoke to you.”
“But she said that her friend disappeared. What if the same thing has happened to her?”
I rub at my forehead. “My guess is that her friend didn’t disappear. She simply moved on, probably wanted to get the hell out of here.”
“Why would she want to do that?”
“Because she wanted to take her shot at a real life.” I gesture discreetly toward Rouge’s red office door. “Rouge sponsors immigrants, usually ones that are living in inescapable poverty, and she brings them over here. She helps them get green card status, gives them housing and a good job as a server for five years, and allows them to save up to start a life outside.”
“Does she pay them an actual wage?”
“Hell, I don’t know. She’s been doing it this way for years. If it weren’t on the up and up, she’d have been shut down. She pays for the transport over to the United States, covers their room and board. In exchange, they work for Aces for five years and then she gently pushes them out of the nest.”
“So Svetlana, May’s friend, finished out her time here and…went on to live the American Dream?”
“That would be the leading theory, yes,” I say.
“It doesn’t sound legal.”
I shrug. “I’m not an immigration attorney, but if she’s paying them for their work and helps them with their status, what’s the problem? Rouge has brought in thousands of people, people who would never make it to this country without a little assistance.” I gesture around the club, pointing out a few gray-haired men. “But these men are city councilmembers, state senators. If Rouge were doing something wrong, they wouldn’t let her get away with it.”
She bites her lip. “Bread and circuses…”
I chuckle. “That term usually refers to politicians pulling the wool over civilians’ eyes. Not the opposite.”
“But still, it’s ethically dicey at best.”
“And what in this world isn’t?” I take another sip of my drink. I learned a long time ago from my old man that ethics come at a high cost sometimes. “The people who work as waitstaff here might die in poverty otherwise. And they’re here legally. Rouge sponsors their green cards herself. They’re told in no uncertain terms exactly what they’re signing up for before she brings them over. Five years of service in exchange for room and board and Rouge covering all their immigration expenses.”
She raises a finger. “But does she pay them?”
“I told you, I don’t know. But yes, I assume she probably does. How else would they save up to get out and make something of themselves?”