NALEDI’S POV
I started my job the following day just like he said.
My guards were stood outside the door, ready to follow my every move.
Deciding I wasn’t in the mood to make sly comments about their refusal to leave me alone, I cut straight to business and asked for the bastard who made it his life duty to make me the angriest woman alive.
“The Alpha is out on a business meeting. We are to ensure that you have a smooth ride to work and back.”
He abused me and went on a freaking business meeting.
“Didn’t even have the decency to see me off?” I huffed, loud enough for my human barriers to hear.
A part of me hoped they returned to their boss on my snide comments, while another side of me couldn’t bring myself to care about them in their entirety.
I took the lead, walking out of the place while they followed hot on my trails. I didn’t miss the looks that were thrown my way when I stepped out of the Alpha’s building.
I didn’t have the best reputation over here and it wasn’t a surprise that they all looked at me like I was devil’s incarnate. I used to be the top dog. The Don’s favourite killer. Attai.
Perhaps they were surprised that I didn’t live up to the name I’d built over the years by senseless killings and betraying the people to scale up the ranks and save myself from the terrible things that went on in the pits.
When we got to the prison, I raised a mental barrier over my emotions, knowing that it was the only thing that would give me away. I knew that the devil had placed people over to watch me and give him feedback, and I came here, determined to get a good report.
Ezra was waiting when I stepped into the darned place. All eyes flickered towards me. “Welcome, Luna.” He said and I shook my head.
“Attai. Just call me Attai.” I said in a stern voice.
He shook his head. “The Alpha has said you will be addressed as the Luna moving forward.”
I wanted the ground to open and swallow me whole. Like my life wasn’t miserable already. This man managed to find new ways of pissing me off. It’s got to be a talent at this point.
Deciding it was useless getting him to call me by my name, I decided to move on to better things. “What do I have to do?” I went for the neck, staring him square in the eyes.
“We need a few women who would join the others in pushing goods across countries.” He laid it out to me, leading me to where I figured it to be my workspace.
We got to a part of the prison that looked more lit up. I saw a small door with a sign manager’s office on top of it. Who knew that they had these kinds of things in a slave trade area?
Apparently, Draken took the term business to a whole new level. Even his papa hadn’t touched this level of artistry in his dealings with business. Ezra pushed the door open and a medium-sized office looked back at us.
A table stacked with files, shelves on the side, stacked with files that seemed a bit dusty, and a chair behind the table. “If you want the office upgraded, I could request for-”
I waved him off, “This will do.”
It’s not like I was expecting the royal treatment from a job where I had to make women basically kill themselves for the benefit of some sicko.
I walked into the room, eyes flickering around the place. I took out one of the files on the table, knowing fully well that Ezra’s eyes were on me – watching and calculating.
I refused to be phased by his presence and continued my little search. One look at the file and I realised it was a document of the identities of the women held in the cells.
Apparently, they were so thorough in their bookkeeping that it held the record of every single woman traded by the Yakuza and their current status. One would think it would be a normal status, perhaps relationship status and the like but it was far from that.
Each detail had a spot where they filled if they were dead, sold, or on a mission. It was crazy enough that they were getting women to do all sorts of unimaginable things, but keeping tabs on people even long after they had been pushed into some other thing was just wicked and wrong.
Even for Draken. If he was looking to be a bigger douchebag than his father then he was doing alright in that department. Much more than alright. He was the fucking best.
“The men are waiting for the women.” Ezra suddenly said, jolting me out of my thoughts.
Was he still here? Didn’t he have other things to do? Like maybe whooshing a certain person out and into the next unlucky nation he was visiting.
“You have to make your pick fast.” He picked out a file, handing it over to me.
One look inside and I felt like puking. I hid it well though. I flipped across the papers, increasing my speed until I hit the final page and find that all the girls they picked to carry out whatever the fuck they intended had an age bracket.
They were all fourteen. Not a year older.
“Why?” I asked, snapping the file close. “They are all amateurs,” I say for lack of a better word. “Don’t we have a better list?”
“The Alpha choose them himself.”
In other words. I should take it up with the Alpha and not him. Duly noted.
“Where are they?” If I wanted to ruin their lives, then I might as well do it in person. Give them a face to hate for all the evil they will encounter.
Perhaps that would lighten the blow, help them stay alive so they can get their revenge on me. It worked for me so I figured it would do the same for them.
“They are in the pits. You can come see them.” He opened the door, not waiting for my response before he stepped out.
I took a deep breath and immediately made my way out of the place. Preparing my mind for what I believed to be the worst meeting yet. I followed Ezra to the darned place, feeling people’s eyes on me as he led me to the hinder parts of the prison cells.
Most of the said people were prisoners who shrunk at the sight of me and Ezra. We got to the place and sure enough, they were there. Seven young girls, dirty and lean, standing in an open space, handcuffed and heavily guarded.
They couldn’t even look at my face.
“These are the girls.” He gestured like I didn’t have eyes of my own.
I walked closer to them, making a show of looking at them, memorizing their faces so I don’t forget – The faces of the girls I was inadvertently sending to the pits of hell.
“They look malnourished.” I state, “Who is in charge of their well-being?”
One of the guards looked baffled. I took it up with him, “Care to share in on the joke?”
“They are prisoners, Luna. Not vacationers.” Others looked like he had just cracked the biggest joke in town.
While I stood here wondering what gave him the guts to talk back at me. “Who is it?” I asked, looking between three buff men I knew were the handlers of this place.
The Joker fessed up. Perfect if you asked me.
“I am in charge of making sure they don’t die before we make use of them.” He said in a non-challant tone. “Compared to the others, these ones are better fit for the job.”
“How long?” I asked, an eerie silence over my head.
He narrowed his eyes, “What?”
“How long have you taken care of them?”
If my memory served me right, girls were brought in batches and given to people who looked out for them, ensuring that there was no case of missing person, or death before they got to use them.
Disgusting? I know.
“Seven years.”
I nodded with a smile. That means they were brought in here at seven. I was going to be puking a lot when I returned to my fancy prison.
“Perfect. Let’s see how well you’ll do without food for seven days, now shall we?”