OLIVIA

With Luca's calming presence gone, one thought pulsed in my head: I screwed up.

My legs buckled, and Sadie's arm was the only thing keeping me from smashing chin-first onto the staff lounge floor.

"Whoa, easy there. Come on, let's sit you down somewhere," she said, concern lacing her voice.

What was I thinking? I should have watched where I was going, damn it. But no, I had to crash into the two people I was meant to observe, not run over.

"Rough first day, huh?" Sadie helped me to the sofa. "Carlos really piled it on tonight—he can be harsh on newbies. Wanna talk to about what happened?"

"I spilt the whole tray on Dante Moretti."

Remorse scorched my skin. Saying it out loud was enough to bring it all back. How could I be so careless?

"That would rattle anyone. But accidents happen. Don't be so hard on yourself." The circular, soothing movement of her hand on my back eased my anxiety a fraction, though it couldn't erase it.

"You didn't see the way he looked at me, Sadie." Like he wanted to murder me...and maybe he did. He was a Moretti. "I'm done for."

"Hey, now. No one's getting fired—big boss said it himself." She squeezed my shoulder, her expression softening. "Stay here. I've got something to help you relax."

I dropped my head into my hands. Some first shift this was turning out to be.

The whiplash of highs and lows left me dizzy. Two encounters with Luca, and now dousing his brother in cocktails. Any minute now, Catherine or someone else would march in to dismiss me for my spectacular blunder.

Tears burned my eyes, and I blinked to force them back. No, I won't break down again. Not after the mortifying meltdown in front of Luca.

"I've got you," he had whispered, but now his words brought back unwanted memories. Glasses smashing, shouts ricocheting off the walls, my mother's apathy more hurtful than any bruise.

Curled against the hallway wall, I clutched my ribs, pain radiating with my breathing. The front door slammed. My stepfather stormed off, no doubt headed to the nearest pub.

Noah's steps pounded down the stairs. His face creased when he saw me. "Liv! What happened?"

He crouched, examining my injuries—the split lip, sore ribs, a cut on my temple.

"Nothing," I lied. What was the point of telling the truth? It didn't change anything. "I fell."

My brother's gaze darkened. Anger. Not at me—never at me—but at the man who was meant to act like a father. Taking me upstairs to our room, he fetched the first aid kit from under the mattress.

Blood stained my lip from its encounter with the table. Noah pressed the antiseptic-soaked cotton against it, and I winced at the sting. You would think I would be used to it by now. At least the sterile smell no longer made me want to throw up.

"Shhh, it's okay," he said, quiet enough not to be overheard if they came back. "We'll get out of here someday. I promise. You and me."

I'd heard this countless times before, but I believed him. We were a team, patching each other up in secret after the worst of rages. My brother bore the brunt of it as often as he could, putting himself between me and Glen to shield me.

His embrace was the only place I felt safe. As long as we had each other, we would survive. "I've got you, Liv—always."

Noah's image blurred, replaced by Luca's face. Maybe the adrenaline was still buzzing from earlier, or my mind was playing tricks on me, yet I couldn't shake how the way he calmed me echoed how my brother always had.

Did Luca genuinely have compassion beneath the layers of his criminal life?

A flicker of Noah's gentleness had sparked in his eyes, a compassion I hadn't expected...and shouldn't trust.

Christ, comparing the man who was possibly behind my brother's disappearance to the one protector in my life was messed up. But that didn't stop my mind from finding parallels as I replayed Luca's fleeting moments of tenderness.

My eyes snapped shut as if I could force the comparisons out of my mind. Feeling this way made no sense; it needed to be locked away.

"Olivia?" Sadie's voice snapped me back to the present.

"Sorry... Got lost in thought." I sat up straighter, pushing the intrusive memories to the back of my mind.

A cold glass found its way into my hand, a caramel-hued concoction inside. My brows knitted together as I inspected it. "Erm, what is it?"

Not water...or tea...or coffee...

"My special recipe. No booze, I swear," she replied with a playful nudge. "Go on, drink up."

Sweetness coated my taste buds as I took a sip. A smoky warmth spread throughout my mouth and the strain in my muscles began to dissipate. It was like a massage in a cup.

"Good, right?" Sadie grinned at my enthusiastic nod. "Told ya."

My weak smile faded as I remembered the mess I'd caused earlier. "Sorry you had to deal with me today. I'm a disaster."

"Don't worry." She waved her hand as if wiping the incident away like it was nothing. "First days are always tough. But it gets easier, promise. You already survived your trial-by-fire run-in with the bosses."

"If you can call it surviving."

"Did I tell you about my first week? Complete catastrophe." Sadie perched on the sofa's edge, angling herself to face me. "I tripped in front of Carlos and smashed a whole tray of Parisian crystal flutes and vintage whisky. Now that was pricey."

Laughter burst from me. "Nooo!"

"Yep. He was fuming, kept screaming he'd blacklist me from every London club." Her eyes crinkled as she kept going. "But Luca handed me a mop with a smirk. And I swear, when Dante saw Carlos lose it, he laughed. They said I added excitement to the night."

But while her story brought amusement, it only sharpened the sting of my failures tonight. I was here to search for my brother, not spill drinks and be consoled.

"I know that look." She shifted and her tone eased. "Everything's going to be alright. The bosses aren't monsters. Dante has a temper, but it flares quick and fades. This place isn't as scary as it seems—they're surprisingly down-to-earth."

Down-to-earth? It wasn't a descriptor I'd associate with London's most powerful mobsters, but she appeared convinced.

The memory of Luca's hand on my skin taunted me. He was supposed to be ruthless, a cold-hearted killer, not gentle and caring. Why had he offered to help me?

Perhaps there was more to the Morettis than I realised. He'd gone out of his way to reassure me when he easily could've allowed Dante to punish me or demanded I pay for the drinks.

"Yeah, Luca was very kind about it," I mused aloud.

An eyebrow shot up. "You two looked...close."

Heat whooshed up my neck, and I almost choked on my drink, fumbling to set it down before it spilt. "Oh, no. He was being a nice boss. Down-to-earth, right?"

Ugh, that sounded so unconvincing. My dress suddenly became too tight as I straightened it, dodging eye contact.

"If you say so." Her scrutiny made me squirm. "But take it from someone who's seen a lot working here—Luca Moretti doesn't treat just any new girl like that."

"I..." Scrambling for a response, I only drew blanks. Was his behaviour towards me so unusual?

"It's okay. No judgement from me—he's one hundred per cent eye candy. Trust me, there are girls here who would kill to have Luca come to their aid or show a bit of interest."

Sadie laughed, but I wasn't sure whether she was entirely joking about how far some were ready to go for his attention. No one could be that obsessed with him...right?

Says the girl, who can't stop thinking about his smouldering stare and the feel of his hands on her skin.

"Look, your shift's pretty much done anyway. Why don't you head home early?"

Home. The idea filled me with relief. After this evening's emotional rollercoaster, sinking into my cosy bed, surrounded by familiar comforts, sounded perfect. I needed time by myself to process everything going through my mind.

"Are you sure? I don't want to leave you short-handed." Despite appreciating her offer, I didn't want to take advantage of her kindness.

"Yes, I've got this. And I've got Luca's orders to back me up." She stood, smoothing her uniform. "Seriously, go home and take it easy."

I pulled her into a tight hug on impulse. She'd thrown me a lifeline tonight. "Thank you... For everything."

"Anytime, girl," she said with her arms around me. "You've got this, okay?"

Contentment bloomed in my chest. For the first time since starting here, I didn't feel so lonely. Sadie's kindness had sparked something between us—a friendship, perhaps? Someone having my back at L'Ombra was a comforting thought, a small light amongst the shadows.

"Wait. Before you go—" She fished something from her pocket and pressed it into my palm. A tiny silver flask with an engraved winking face. "For the next time you need a pick-me-up."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Her mix was bound to come in handy again soon.

"Go home, newbie. You've earned it after the start you've had."

"See you tomorrow," I said with a grateful smile and made my way to the changing room, eager to leave the club behind...for today, at least.

The frosty night air shocked my system once I finally stepped outside the mansion. My muscles ached with exhaustion, each step against the chilly wind an effort. And my thoughts? They were a tangled mess as I drove back to New Malden on autopilot. The night kept playing over, especially my conversation with Sadie.

Perhaps she had a point—one mistake wasn't the end. I had to hold my head high and keep going.

***

The past few days had blurred together in some normalcy. Or as normal as life could be when waitressing at an elite sex club. Classes and shifts at the cafe on hold, I kept my head down and concentrated on my mission.

But my pulse still quickened whenever I caught glimpses of Luca across the room. His commanding presence was impossible to ignore, though our eyes never met. If anything, he seemed to be avoiding me since the incident with Dante.

Part of me was relieved because I could focus without him clouding my thoughts. Yet disappointment stirred whenever he averted his gaze and brushed past me without saying anything.

Foolishly, I missed the thrill of our shared moments, and his sudden indifference left me more unsettled than I cared to admit.

Had I crossed some invisible line? Disappointed him? Or had he lost interest after my clumsy blunder?

I tamped down the unwelcome pang of discomfort. Whatever dangerous fascination simmered between us had to cool into nonexistence.

Distance was for the best—I needed to concentrate on what mattered. My chats with some staff had not paid off, so drastic measures were necessary.

Which was why I was pretending to be busy with work near the room where the security guys hung out in the hopes of overhearing something useful. Tidying a nearby display, I inched closer to an ajar door.

"Still nothing from him?" one voice asked. It took me a moment to place it as Benny, one of the kitchen workers.

"Nah, mate, he's gone," a gruff man answered. Had to be someone from the security crew. "Got 'imself into some proper trouble from what I heard. Dodgy business."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Benny's apprehension mirrored my own. "Like gone for good?"

Laughter drifted from the burlesque lounge, raucous and carefree, grating my nerves and churning my stomach.

"Askin' too many questions never ends pretty, get me?" Came the grim South London reply. A chill went down my spine. "Bloke was pokin' his nose where it didn't belong, steppin' on the wrong toes. He ain't coming back."

I clutched the counter against the dizziness. Who were they talking about? Noah?

Bile rose in my throat. Each breath became a struggle, my lungs choking.

How many others around the Morettis had taken the wrong step and were gone? What did that even mean—were they...dead?

He ain't coming back. The words echoed in my skull.

Had Noah gotten in over his head? Paid the price? His body, broken and discarded in some forgotten alley, seared into my mind.

No. I couldn't assume the worst. If anything, this made me more determined. I had to keep digging, had to know.

Yet, as I moved back to the main bar, my legs felt like lead. Not knowing was torture, but what if knowing was even worse?

"Olivia!" Carlos barked, and I jolted, nearly dropping the armful of bottles I'd absentmindedly gathered. "How about you move a little faster for once? Have Dana finish up here. Go clear the private booths."

With a sigh, I headed in that direction and braced myself for what I might find there this time.

Please, just be abandoned drinks.

The low thrum of music from the main area mixed with other sounds set my strained nerves more on edge. To my relief, the first few booths were quite okay. A tipped glass here, messy table there. Nothing scandalous.

My feet ached as I gathered empty glasses and bottles, anxiety twisting inside me. What if I never found answers? What if Noah was...gone?

Movement flickered from behind the heavy curtains of a remaining booth.

One of the hostesses emerged, steps shaky. Her hasty attempts to fix her makeup and dress couldn't mask everything—a scarlet smudge marred the corner of her mouth, flushed cheeks, glassy eyes.

Heat flooded my face. I knew that look. My flatmate Katie often sported it after particularly spectacular hook-ups. Julie had probably been busy indulging a member or two.

She sauntered—no, glided—toward me on sky-high stilettos, looking pleased.

Shifting my weight, I cleared my throat. "Are you all done in there so I can clear it?"

"Oh no, I got everything I needed, sugar." Julie flashed a smile. "But you may wanna give it a minute before going in. Could still be occupied." With a wink, she sashayed off toward the foyer.

Who had she left behind the curtains? And what had they been up to?

When no one came out after a few seconds, my curiosity won. I placed the almost full tray on a nearby table and ducked inside.

A familiar silhouette caught my attention in the dim light, and I froze. Luca lounged alone in the plush booth, legs stretched out, scrolling his phone. Oblivious to me.

What was he doing here? Not in his office or with his brother, but hidden away.

A cloying perfume lingered in the small space, suffocating me with every inhale. Julie's.

My heart didn't just hammer from the evidence—it shattered. His tousled hair, shirt crumpled...traces of lipstick stained on his skin.

Sharp pain struck me. The hostess. She hadn't been entertaining members.