I do not own Twilight characters. Just my own plot.
So I am trying a Mafiaward, but a little differently than normal. I always wondered what it would be like if Bella was a prostitute and Edward at the top of the Mafia pyramid. So this wondered into my mind. Its also a bit of a song fic: The A Team by Ed Sheeran. Brilliant song, you guys should check it out.
Warning: if you don't like drug taking, violence, sex (con and non/con) this isn't for you. Just for the record, I won't be writing explicit rape, I'll be alluding to it. You have been warned.
Anyway, enjoy the story!
I remember when I was little and the teacher asked everyone in the class what they wanted to be. Boys said astronauts and racers while girls said princesses and journalists. But when it was my turn, when the teacher turned to me with her doughy face and the other children stared at me, to see what Grotty Bella had to say, I said something different.
"A bird," I said, splaying out my arms to mimic wings, "So I can fly far away and never come back."
Everyone sniggered and the teacher told me off for making fun of the question. Whenever I came near the other children after that, they would flap their arms and squawk. I didn't care though, because I knew that one day, it would come true. That God would listen and turn me into a bird, so I could fly away, away from the other children and the teacher and Mom and Phil.
But as I dance in front of a man with small piggy eyes, a large red sweating face which was sucking on a long thick cigar like it was a pacifier, I think to myself: well that plan went down to shit.
Behind the cigar the rubbery mouth pulled up into a large yellowing smile, crooked teeth on full show. His eyes followed the way my body moved, taking in the expanse of smooth exposed skin. I could see the sweat pool under his arms. I didn't have to fight a grimace. I'd done this too many times to find it repulsive anymore. Nah, that's a lie, I still find it repulsive. I'm just used to it now.
"C'mere sugar," he grunted out, fat sausage hands reaching out to me. I swayed towards him, straddling his business trousered legs. His hands went to my waist and pulled me forward, so I could feel the soft fabric of his silk shirt and the cold ivory buttons against the skin of my stomach and chest. This was the point where I switched Off. Went to my Happy Place. The things I did next were not felt by me. Later I will have a hard time remembering what I did.
Afterwards, he stuffed a roll of several hundred-dollar bills into my hand, smiling a grin that reminded me of the Cheshire Cat in the Disney cartoon. "You were…excellent," he leered, as I gathered the silk black robe around my naked frame, "I'll ask for you next time, Sapphire."
I gave him an appreciative grin, hoping I won't be on shift when he next comes. "Thank you for coming to Cipro, I hope you will return soon." I glanced at the clock above the door and repressed the relief welling in my stomach. It was nearly 2, so there was no point going out onto the Floor again.
I left the room smelling of sweat and expensive cologne and tiptoed down the corridor the floor laid down with a thick purple carpet, the walls decorated with delicate gold leaf inlaid into the purple wall paper, depicting trees with caged birds hanging in the branches. The sconces shed a soft warm light on the cherry wood tables, crystal vases holding crimson roses. I walked past the mahogany doors with their red and green lights above them. Green for vacant, red for occupied, with little gold plaques in-laid into the wood, saying things like: The Blue Room, The Violet Room, The Green Room etc. etc. I wasn't interested in these; I was interested in the door saying "Authorised Personnel Only" at the very end. I slipped past the heavy wood, lined with three inches of steel.
Behind that door, the illusion of casual wealth disappears. My bare feet slap against cold concrete, artificial fluorescent light making my eyes burn. Steel doors line this corridor, names stamped across them in black: Amber, Amethyst, Jade, Pearl, Ruby, a whole corridor full of names. Again, it was only the door at the very end I was interested in: the Rec room.
Pushing through it I saw Amber, Ruby and Topaz, curled in on the couches on the right hand side, watching Ugly Betty on the box of a TV. Topaz looked up, and smiled, warm brown eyes meeting mine, "Phire! You're back."
"End of another working day. Thank holy fuck," my fingers wrapped around an orange from one of the plastic bowls on the kitchen island, which I began to peel as quickly as I could. I wanted the taste of him out of me, away. Taking one slice, I stuffed it into my mouth, the tart sweetness burst across my mouth, chasing away the foul aftertaste of expensive cigar, "You guys enjoying your night off?"
The others ignored me, too engrossed in Betty's ugly mug to talk to me. Topaz nodded, wrapping the large cardigan from her Old Days tightly around herself, "Its always nice not to get dolled up, y'know what I'm sayin'?" Topaz is definitely from down south somewhere. Her accent speaks of NASCAR and hot summer days. We all come from somewhere but we never tell where. And if we do, it's a lie. Most of what we know about each other is a lie. It's just the way things are.
"I know exactly what you are saying," I said, voice slightly muffled around a mouth full of orange. I swallowed it and said, "Can't wait to get this slap off."
Topaz smiled and her attention was drawn back to the TV again. I finished my orange and was about to go to my room when the door opposite the one I just came out of banged open. Cold blast of air hit me in a harsh blast, the smell of petrol and cooking fat barraged up my nostrils. Three men in identical black suits and one struggling girl in dirty clothes came through the door. The girl was holding on tightly to a blue rucksack, probably containing all of her worldly possessions. I guessed she was about 16 and a Runaway. I'd arrived exactly like that. Takes one to know one.
"Let me go! Please!" she was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks, stained black. The Suits shoved her onto the floor, so she fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around the bag as if it would save her. She trembled sputtering out, "I promise I won't tell anyone I swear I just wanted a ride I'll do anything I have $60 I just wanna go home it was stupid to run away-"
She was babbling now, as Dmitri scanned the room, eyes falling on me, "Sapphire, where's Padrona?"
"She's probably out on the Floor. This the replacement?' I asked, gesturing to the trembling girl.
"For Emerald? Yeah," Dmitri frowned at the girl, before glancing back to me, "Since Padrona's not here, can you show her around? I fucking hate crying women."
Putting my peel into the bin I dusted my hands, "Alright, I'll tell Padrona when she comes through that we've got a new one. I've got it."
Dmitri nodded and gave one last pitiless look at the girl on the floor, the new Emerald.
"I'll deal with her," I said again, wishing they would leave. I hated the Suits. Heartless motherfuckers that made my skin crawl when I was with them.
They all nodded, robotic, and brushed through the metal door, leaving in another blast of air.
The others were still watching the TV while Emerald was still trembling, crying and muttering to herself as she rocked on the balls of her feet. I crouched down and tapped her shoulder, "Get up kid."
She ignored me, still rocking to and fro, to and fro. "I said get up."
Her head snapped up to me, and her eyes pleaded. Despite the tearstains and the blotchy face, she was kind of pretty. Large innocent brown eyes, similarly coloured long straight hair and clear skin. No wonder she was picked. We were The A Team, which requires the best. "Please, I want to get out. Help me!"
"Not happening kid." If I helped her in that way, I'd lose a limb. I quite like my limbs so I want to keep them, "Get up."
"I don't want to, " she whispered. She continued to cry, getting louder and louder.
"Whoever is crying: shut the fuck up, I can't hear the TV," Amber snapped, glancing angrily back at me.
I huffed, just wanting to go to bed, and grabbed the tops of Emerald's arms, hoisting her up. "First rule of Cipro: no crying. No one likes a crybaby," I told her, getting the silken sleeve of my robe and wiped her tears away, "Nut up or shut up, got it?"
She sniffled and nodded, clutching her bag closer, "My name is Bree. What's yours?"
Placing my hands firmly on her shoulders I looked her square in the eyes, "Rule number 2: No real names. That girl you were, called Bree? She doesn't exist anymore. You're now Emerald, but you can shorten it if you want. I'm Sapphire, that's Topaz, Ruby and Amber. You're rooming with me, since the old Emerald…" I paused, wondering if I should tell her what had happened to Emmie, my roommate since I came here, "she's gone."
New Emerald nodded, eyes shifting around the room. "This room," I said spreading out my arms to indicate the entire room, "is the Rec Room. There's a fridge, cupboards, an oven and all kitchen utensils you could ever use. We're each given our own shelf and cupboard for food. You take anything that is not yours and you will quickly become very unpopular. Understand me so far?"
Emerald nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. I knew that look. "The only way out is that door," I said, pointing to the one she had just arrived out of, "It is at least 4 inches thick. To get past it, you need a code, which changes every second day. Only Padrona and Dmitri know it, and we have stopped trying to fuck it out of them. It simply doesn't work. If you try to escape, they remove your toenails and fingernails, one by one. Try it again and you die behind the lumber sheds. Your body will be hacked to pieces and thrown to the Boss's pet pit bulls. You would have never existed. Do you understand?"
More tears slipped down her cheeks but she nodded, "I understand."
For a moment, I cupped her cheek, looking her straight in the eyes. "I know you are scared, and you want to go home," I stroked my thumb over her delicate cheekbone, "but you are too young, too pretty to die. Hang on tight, learn how to survive and you'll be ok."
She didn't seem convinced as I dropped my hand, using it to gesture towards the TV and the couches, "TV and couches, pretty self explanatory." I pointed towards the rota on the cork notice board, next to the cards and pictures from ex-coworkers. "Your name will soon be added to the rota, so you know which nights you are working and which you are not. Usually 7 to 12 girls will be working a night, depending on how busy the Floor is."
Her face flushed, as she peered at the large timetable. Her eyes widened and she turned to me, "You were working."
"No shit, Sherlock," I said, looking at the rota myself, "And I won't be working until tomorrow." I looked back at her and asked her the big question, "You lost your cherry yet?"
She jumped, her face blossoming red in a way that reminded me of how I used to do that. But I'm no longer a blushing virgin anymore.
"…yes," she said quietly, eyes shining, "last year with my ex."
"Too much information," I told her, "But that does mean there won't be an virgin auction for you. You'll be dancing at first though, until you are deemed good enough to actually dance personally for clients before they're asking you to fuck them."
"I can't do that."
"You can do that and you will do that. C'mon, I'll show you the dance studio," I put an arm around her shoulders and lead her away, feeling her small body trembling underneath the baggy, too large clothes. I pushed against the door next to the kitchen area, coming into a room with floor to ceiling mirrors and several large black boxes of sound equipment. "This is where you work through your dance routine, get it to perfection. If you have trouble, Padrona is an excellent dance teacher. The better you dance, the more you are paid."
"Right…" she said, suppressing a yawn.
"You must be shattered. Come, I'll show you to your room. I'll show you the Floor tomorrow. Do you need anything to eat?"
Another shake of the head. She was becoming numb, pretending it was all happening to somebody else. It was a good tactic, but it would only last her a couple of days at most.
"C'mon, we'll get you showered and into bed in no time," I led her away, through the Rec room and down the hall, until we reached a door proclaiming Sapphire and Emerald. Inside were two steal beds, bolted to the concrete floor. The bed on the right was made with the standard grey blanket and white pillow but on my bed on the left was a colourful blanket I had managed to salvage all those years ago. Made by my grandmother before she died, it was the only bright thing in the room. On the bedside cabinet was my hairbrush, a couple of tattered, stolen library books and a lamp. By the foot of both beds was a small wooden box. A bar of flurescent light lit up the place on our entrance, draining the colour from Emerald's face. "Your bed is on the left and you use the box at the end of the bed to keep your clothes and stuff. Once you start earning you can buy stuff to decorate the place with." Not like it would make it look any better anyway.
"Oh, ok," she said, her voice quiet and weak.
"If you have a towel and shampoo, get them out so you can wash. If you don't, you can borrow mine," Emerald looked pleadingly at me and I sighed, went to my box and pulled out the spare towel and a few sachets of shampoo I'd saved from magazines, "Here. The showers are just across the hall. Wash yourself up quick, then come right back here."
She nodded and scurried away, leaving her rucksack behind. I sighed and trudged back to the Floor, my head beginning to pound. I passed through the corridor of private rooms and made it back into the smoky red room that was the Floor. Silver poles glimmered in the low light, as sofas were swept and the tables made clear of sticky wine and beer spillages by the cleaners. Padrona was behind the bar, counting today's earnings. A large woman, who was stylishly beautiful, a streak of white amongst the deep fire of her fixed hair, she always reminded me of the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland, always sucking on a cigarette at the corner of her mouth.
She looked up and smiled, revealing perfect white teeth, "Ah! Cara mio, you worked well tonight. Was Big Shot pleased?"
"Very," I said, handing her the hefty tip I had received from him, a waft of heavy but expensive perfume waving over me, "D's brought a new girl. She's showering at the minute"
Padrona's eyes sparkled with interest, "Indeed, molto bene. I was wondering when Emerald was going to be replaced. Does she look any good?"
"Very pretty," I confirmed, rubbing my temples, "Scared shitless of course, but she has potential."
" Bene, bene," Padrona murmured to herself, her brow creased in focus, "You make sure the girl gets a good night's rest. I want to inspect her in her best form tomorrow, see what we are working with."
"Of course Padrona," I replied, moving away from her already.
"And well done, cara mio. Big Shot is a rich client and you managed to reel him in rather nicely. Speaking of which," she put down the dollar bills and locked her blue-green eyes onto me, "Associates of the Boss are being invited here tomorrow. The Boss asked for the best employee of Cipro to entertain him. That is you, cara mio. Are you willing to work the shift?"
Internally I groaned but I put on a bright smile and nodded, "Of course, of course, I'll be more than happy to."
Padrona grinned, patting my shoulder, "I expect big things from you Sapphire," Padrona's eyes glittered with greed, and I knew she was thinking about how her retirement was piling up. That's all Padrona thought about: money and sex. Sex and money. They were linked in this place; one did not come without the other.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning," I replied, forcing my eyes to stay open against the stinging smoke, "Emerald will be ready as well."
"Sleep well, cara mio," Padrona's smooth voice was the last thing I heard as I left the Floor, treading back through the Private Rooms and back to the sleeping quarters. Emerald was sitting stiffly on her bed, her wet hair dripping onto the grey scratchy blanket.
"I want to go home," she whimpered, clutching the towel around herself, "I want to go home."
I forced my heart back down my throat and walked briskly towards her, "C'mon, where are your pyjamas?"
She nodded towards the crumpled pile next to her, water or tears dripping down her cheeks. I picked up the t-shirt and pulled it over her head. She cooperated by pushing her arms through the holes, wet hair soaking into the dull material. "Now put these on. I won't look," I said, handing her the jogging pants. I turned away and while she was dressing, I pulled on my father's old T-shirt, faded and worn with age. You could still make out Spartan Warriors in red on the front. It had been my pyjamas for as long as I could remember.
Once we were both dressed, I came towards her saying, "C'mon into bed now. You need a good night's sleep, alright?" H
She mumbled, "It has been two weeks since I have slept in a bed…" But she slipped between the greying sheets and sank in on her self, her body so small, it hardly made a lump under the blanket. "You ok?"
She shook her head and I brushed the hair out of her eyes, "First night is always the hardest. Just rest easy ok? Worry about everything in the morning."
She turned over, her back away from me and curled in on herself, shrinking even further in size.
I turned away from her and walked to the light switch, flicking it off with a snap of my wrist. The room was pitch black, and I groped my way back to my bed. I settled under the blankets and exhausted, collapsed onto the pillow.
But for two hours, I heard the quiet panting sobs of the occupant next to me.
Welcome to Cipro, where women become your wildest fantasies. Where we will dance and sing for you, warm your bed. We will give you the love that your wives and fiancés refuse you. We will make you feel pleasure. We are your precious gems.
My name is Sapphire, but I was once called Bella Swan. I ran away at the age of 17 and was tricked into the car of a very rich man. He brought me here and this is where I'll stay, until my flesh hangs from my bones and I am no longer a pretty precious thing. At least I thought so. Until a man with the green eyes and the crooked smile came to shatter my world.
This is my story.
Should I continue? Please comment and shtuff, I'd appreciate it!
Translations from Italian:
Cipro = Cyprus. I chose this name for the brothel because Cyprus was supposedly the birthplace of Aphrodite, otherwise known as Venus, goddess of love
Padrona = Mistress
Cara mio = My dear
Cool beans, hope to hear from ya!
P.S I'm not Italian and I don't know any Italian, so if I'm wrong in my translations please tell me!