Page 122 of Legacy
She moves to take a sip. Not even a glance.
“Fine,” I mutter, pushing off the counter. “I won’t talk to you either.”
She turns with her breakfast and walks away without a word.
The sound of her bedroom door clicking shut hits me harder than it should. Like a closing chapter.
I try to ignore it. Sit down. Scroll through the texts from Maksim. Messages about the Armenian shipment and the guy we’re flipping.
I last forty-three seconds.
Then I’m up again, already walking to her door before I can stop myself.
I knock, knuckles sharp against the wood. “Adriana.”
Nothing.
I lean closer, resting my forehead against the door. “Come on, Tesoro.Stop it.Just talk to me.”
Still nothing.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “If you go out today, at least take Enzo or Gio with you.”
Silence.
I thud my head against the door gently, exhaling. “This is driving me insane.”
But I know when to retreat—at least for now.
I straighten, give the door one last glance, then head out for the day. Maksim’s waiting in the basement of Opulent, and I can’t afford to be late.
But as I walk out, every step feels like I’m leaving something unfinished.
And maybe I am.
***
Opulent used to be my oasis.
Yeah, it’s a strip club. But it’s also more than that. It’s sanctuary.
Rebirth.
The girls—the women, who work here are survivors. Most of them didn’t come to us because they were looking for a job. They came to us because the world took everything and left them with nothing. They were used, abused, sold, shattered.
Now?They choose.They dance because they want to. They pour drinks, work the floor, run bottle service, because it’s theirs.
The money they make is their own. The rules are theirs, too.
You want to go to school? We’ll pay for it. Want to shift to another one of our businesses? We’ll make it happen. You want to go home—we’ll find your home. We’ve done it before. We’d do it again.
But while the main floor of Opulent is freedom and glitter, the basement?
The basement is hell.
It’s morning. Upstairs is quiet. Spotless. Light filters in through the frosted front doors, casting a kind of peace over the floor where so much sin usually dances.
But down here?
