Katarina’s POV, At Vittorio's b**m Strip Club for the Elites
The metal door slammed behind me like a gunshot. The Cold air was replaced by the thick, suffocating heat of sin.
I was dumped at the back entrance of the club like trash, knees scraped, and my pride shattered, still barefoot.
“Move,” one of the guards grunted, grabbing my arm.
The hallway reeked of sweat, s*x, and expensive cologne. The bass from the music pulsed through the walls like a second heartbeat. I was shoved forward, blinking against the dizzying neon glow leaking through the cracks of the main room.
A man leaned against the wall ahead, arms crossed. His Silk shirt opened halfway with Greased black hair and a Smile like a fox sizing up a dying rabbit.
Brando.
“So this is the Don’s little stray,” he drawled, eye
