Chapter 1

Chapter 1BellaIstood on the stage in the middle of the day, preparing to sing to an empty bar. But only one set of ears needed to hear my voice, and that was the hiring manager. Intent on blowing him away, I closed my eyes and pretended the lights were dim, glasses were clinking, and a soft hum of excited voices was coming from the tables in the bar. When the music started, I let the song trapped inside spill out. Singing was my one and only passion. I’d taken voice lessons for the better part of my life. Now, at the age of twenty-four, I was getting my chance to be discovered.The Trip Easy was one of the most popular bars in Los Angeles, and with any luck I would be their full-time lounge singer. And God, I needed this job so badly.“Louder,” the manager barked from the back of the room.I firmed up my diaphragm and dialed up the volume, because of course those in the back of the room would need to hear my beautiful songs. I was made to sing, and this was my moment to shine. I made sure to hit all the right notes and articulate the words clearly as my foot tapped out the melody. I got lost in the music, enjoying myself. Once my anxiety slipped away, my true voice came shining through.I could hear approving murmurs from the manager and the bartender. It was all I could do to keep my grin from interfering with the song. As the music died away, I lifted my hand to shade my eyes from the overhead lights. The two men were standing there, looking worlds happier than they did when I started the song.“I can do another piece if you need to hear more,” I called out.The manager, Marco Morelli, gestured to one of the nearby tables. “No, that’s all for now. Have a seat.”Eager to talk to him about the position advertised online, I rushed over, dropped down into the seat across from him, and waited while he looked over my resume. Vibrating with excitement, I could barely sit still.“I see that you attended LA Vocal Studios for a year and a half. Why didn’t you finish your studies?” he asked without looking up.I swallowed thickly, horrified that he’d immediately zeroed in on my one weakness. I give him the slimmed down version of the truth. “I was raised by my grandmother. She had a stroke and I dropped out of college to take care of her. She recently got to be too much to manage at home, so I had to find her a nursing home.”Understanding was written on his face when he looked up. “And now you need a full-time job to help pay for her care, right?”“Yes, sir. The state pays part of it, but if I want her to have a good quality of life, I have to contribute.”“I’m looking for a reliable employee. The biggest problem we’ve had is that singers start out strong and then begin missing shifts. Every time one of our performers calls out, our customers are deprived of entertainment for the night.”“Oh, I’ll never call out unless I lose my voice.”He seemed to take me at my word. “The hours are seven p.m. until one a.m. seven nights a week. You’ll get one thirty-minute break and two fifteen-minute breaks. Our expectation is that you sing for twenty-minute segments at the top of each hour and then mingle with the patrons, encouraging them to buy expensive liquor between sets.”“Seven days a week?” I gasped. This wasn’t at all what I was expecting. Or the fact that they wanted me to mix and mingle with the clientele, pushing them to buy booze.“Just until we can get another singer hired,” he clarified. “It shouldn’t take long.”“I guess that would be okay.” The salary they quoted in the ad was too good to pass up, especially for someone like me with virtually no experience. “I mean, of course I’ll do whatever you need until you can hire another vocalist. I’m a team player, after all.”He gave me a curt nod. “That’s great. Consider tonight your final interview. My father and his business partner own this establishment. They’ll be here tonight to give final approval for the hire. After that, I’ll need you to complete tax paperwork, sign a confidentiality agreement, and share your banking information so we can direct deposit your pay.”“A confidentiality agreement?” I asked, wondering why on earth a club singer would need to do that.“We get high profile names visiting the lounge. Nothing that happens here leaves these four walls. Understand?” Mr. Morelli responded.I nodded in agreement, even though it sounded strange. “I’ll make sure to bring my information tonight.”“Good girl. Now, what are you planning to wear?”“Dress clothing?”“The owners like their singers to wear long form fitting gowns, the more sparkly the better.”My mouth dropped open as I struggled to remember if I had anything that fit that description.Mr. Morelli pulled out his wallet, took out five one-hundred-dollar bills and threw them down on the table along with a business card from a nearby boutique. “My name’s on the back. This is another one of my pops’ businesses. He’s partnered with the owner. Pick out five gowns and don’t pay attention to the price tags. Make sure you look stunning tonight and every night you come here to sing.”I gaped at the money on the table, shocked at how casually he’d forked over such a large amount of cash to a virtual stranger. “Don’t you think we should wait until I’m fully hired to begin buying work clothing?”“The owners giving their seal of approval is more of a formality. They’ve never disagreed with one of my hires yet and I don’t expect they will object to a pretty little songbird like yourself.”I blushed and quickly gathered up the money and business card.“You buy all your gowns from the boutique,” he directed. “Never pay more than a hundred dollars. If you get any pushback, you call me directly. My number is on the back of the card.”“Yes, sir,” I said demurely.He dismissed me with a wave and a warning. “We don’t do a lot of handholding around here. You come early and make sure the DJ knows what songs you want him to play. At seven, the music will start. You step onto the stage and do your thing for twenty minutes.”“Got it. Thank you, Mr. Morelli.”“You’re welcome.”As I walked away, he called out, “Write that shit down for the DJ, if you know what I mean.”Glancing over my shoulder, I answered firmly, “I do.”When I walked out the door and glanced up at the unlit neon sign of two martini glasses clinking together with the bar name emblazed across the bottom, a huge smile lit up my face. I hustled to the boutique to pick out dresses so I could make all my dreams come true.***Later that night, I made my grand entrance wearing a long form-fitting gold sequined gown. The dress went with my long golden hair perfectly. I’d flat ironed it into a cascade of silken smoothness for the occasion. Everyone turned to look in my direction, and for once in my life, I felt glamorous.I moved over to the DJ. Before I could introduce myself, he said, “You must be Isabella Martinez, our new singer.”I nodded and reached out one gloved hand for him to shake. “And you are?”“My name’s Javez. People call me J.” He grinned at me. “The owners are gonna love you.”“You don’t think it’s too much?”“Hell no. The owners sometimes wear tuxes. Most people here wear custom-made designer suits. Trust me, you’re exactly what they’re looking for…assuming you can actually sing.”I grinned, relieved that my outfit wasn’t over the top. “I have a good voice, formal training too.” Pulling out the small index card, I asked, “How many of these songs do you have?”“We can play any song you like.”“Great! I’ve broken down the whole night with the songs I want each hour.”He took the card and read over it before glancing back up at me. “You sure you want the first one on the list? You’d have to be a vocal acrobat to hit all those high notes.”“That’s the one I’m using to impress the owners,” I confided in him. “Wish me luck.”“Alright, Ms. Martinez. I’ll spin them if you sing them.”Excitement strummed in my stomach as he loaded up my songs for the first set.“Ready, beautiful?”I nodded, turned around, and walked directly to the front of the room. As I stepped onto the stage, I heard the DJ introduce me. Standing in front of the microphone, I pulled it from its stand and waited patiently for the music to start. I was the happiest I’d ever been in this moment. I sang my heart out. I’d practiced this song a million times, and tonight it paid off when the audience broke out in loud applause as the song rolled to an end.I thanked them and waited for the clapping to die down. The moment the room grew reasonably quiet again, J started the next song. Standing there in my beautiful new gown singing to an adoring audience, I felt as though I’d finally found my place in the universe. All my dreams were finally coming true. I was earning good money doing what I dearly loved. Nothing could be better than this.I saw two older men wearing tuxes sitting at a table together, drinking champagne and smiling as they gazed warmly at me. One of them lifted his glass in my direction and the other followed suit. It was a warm salute from my new bosses. I blew them a kiss and moved on to my next song.As I sang, I noticed for the first time how well the men were dressed. J wasn’t joking when he said they were all wearing designer suits. The women were all in cocktail dresses or formal eveningwear. They were clearly the upper crust of society. When the last note died away, the manager came to escort me to meet the two older men. They looked like they might be in their sixties or maybe a well-preserved seventy. One had laugh lines around his eyes and deep lines etched by his mouth. The other looked like he’d been sucking on a lemon. For some reason I had the mental image of the two old men in The Muppet Show.They gestured for me to sit down, and someone placed a glass of champagne in front of me.“You have an absolutely lovely voice, my dear,” the kind-faced one gushed.“Oh, thank you, sir. Working at the Trip Easy is like a dream come true for me. I hope you decide to keep me on.”“Oh, absolutely,” his stern-faced companion intoned. “We stand to make a small fortune off that voice of yours.”I chuckled nervously. “As long as I get paid on time, it’s good by me. I hope you get filthy rich.” When the smiling one laughed, I added. “Or rather, richer than you clearly already are.”Even the sour-faced one gave me a reluctant smile at that.The smiling one reached out to shake my hand. “My name is Louis Morelli.”“Your son is the manager. The two of you look a lot alike.” I reached out to shake his hand. “You probably already know my name is Isabella Martinez.”“My son forwarded your resume. You look very good on paper.”I shrugged and took a drink of my champagne. “I’m glad of it, because it got me my dream job.”The lemon-sucker extended his hand. “I’m Tony Lombardo. I just want to say that you look good in real life too.”I didn’t care for the way his eyes bore into me, like he was trying to send a secret message. I immediately shifted the conversation to something more innocuous. “I worried that my dress might be over the top, especially with the long gloves.”“Absolutely not,” Mr. Morelli said. “Your presentation was pitch perfect.”I grinned at him. “I see what you did there, Mr. Morelli.”His face lit up. “My mind is as sharp as it ever was.”I glanced at Mr. Lombardo to find him staring at my cleavage. “I suppose I should get to work mingling with your clients. Expensive drinks aren’t going to sell themselves, right?”Mr. Morelli beamed at me. “They certainly aren’t.” Gesturing to my glass, he said, “Dom Pérignon Rose is the drink of the night. Be certain to recommend it to everyone.”“Absolutely. It tastes amazing. Every person in this bar should try at least one glass.”His expression was full-on approving by that point. “I can already tell that hiring you was one of our better decisions.”“Yes,” r. Lombardo added, “You were a good catch, and we have no intention of letting you slip away.”I took my leave of them, wondering what the hell Mr. Lombardo’s problem was. He gave off creepy old man vibes. I prayed I was wrong about him. Maybe he’d just had too much to drink tonight—or not enough. I mixed and mingled with my expensive glass of champagne in my hand, glibly talking about how smooth Dom Pérignon Rose went down. By the end of the night, it seemed as though every table had a bottle chilling in an ice bucket, and everyone was happy as clams. The old men had a good system going here. I marveled at their ingenuity.At the end of my shift, I grabbed my gold clutch and had one of the servers show me back to the office. It was just my luck that instead of the manager, Mr. Lombardo was sitting behind the desk waiting for me. When he gestured for me to come in, I lowered myself into the chair on the other side of his desk.“Your manager said I need to fill out tax paperwork and leave my bank account information for direct deposit.”He slid a file folder across the desk. “I have everything you need right here. All the details are completed, and you just need to sign.”“Thank you, Mr. Lombardo.”“You’re very welcome, Ms. Martinez.”I opened the folder and saw a small stack of paperwork. Opening my purse, I dug through it to find a pen.The old man drummed his fingers on the desk, making me nervous. But I flew through the paperwork, being as neat and meticulous as possible. When I finished, I closed the folder and slid it back across the desk. When I stood, he did the same.“Thank you for giving me a chance. This opportunity means a lot to me, Mr. Lombardo.”“How old are you, Isabella?” A chill ran up my spine at the purr in his voice.“Twenty-four, sir. If you don’t mind, I should be getting home. I need to rest my voice and get some sleep so I can be at my best tomorrow night.”Before I realized what was happening, he was rounding the desk and had his hand wrapped around my arm. “Now, there’s no need to run off, Isabella. You have a pretty face and a lovely name in addition to that beautiful singing voice.”I tried to pull myself from his grasp, but he’d clamped on pretty tight. “Please let me go. I need to leave. My shift is over.”“Stay for a few minutes, I insist.”I attempted to jerk away harder. “If this is how you treat your employees, I don’t think I want to work for you after all.”“Too late for that, I’m afraid. You wondered into our world and now you belong to us.”Someone cleared their throat from the doorway. Both of us looked over at the same time to find Marco.“She’s worth more as our star attraction than your whore, Tony.” The slow calm way he spoke alerted me that something was off here.“Don’t tell me what to do in my own bar.”Marco strolled over, grasped the old man’s wrist, and pried his hand off my arm. I could already feel that it was going to be bruised.“You’ve crossed the line this time, idiot. No one touches me and lives to tell the tale.”The younger man rolled his eyes and pressed me behind him. “What are you going to do? I’m a made man, just like you.”“You will regret interfering with my evening. I promise you that much, you need to learn respect.” The older man’s voice was dripping with venom.“Look, I’m not trying to be any kind of way with you. I would be remiss in my duties as the manager of this establishment if I let you molest our newly hired star attraction. Do you think she’s going to be able to perform if you rough her up? Nobody wants to be entertained by a woman with a black eye or busted lip.”“Fuck off. I wasn’t going to beat her.”“Why don’t you talk to my old man. If he agrees that you can have her, I’ll bring her right back to you.”Mr. Lombardo cursed under his breath. “You know he’s not going to agree to that.”“I suspect not. It doesn’t make good business sense. Regardless, you two need to talk this out because I’m not going to have you haunting her every step here.”I finally found my voice. “He’s not, because I quit.”Marco barely spared me a glance. “No, you’re not. You signed on the dotted line. That makes you our talent for the foreseeable future.”I frowned at him. “You can’t make me work here if I don’t want. I’m an employee, not a hostage.”Mr. Lombardo laughed a dry, humorless laugh. “Best explain the way of the world to our new little songbird before she ends up with cement shoes to go with that pretty new dress of hers.”The manager pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before glaring at the owner. “Why do you always have to be this way? Every good thing that happens here, you have to shit on it.”Mr. Lombardo opened his mouth to speak, but another voice came from the doorway. “That’s enough, son. Take Ms. Martinez upstairs and get her settled into her new home. Tony and I need to talk.”New home? What on earth were they talking about? These men couldn’t honestly be planning to keep me here against my will. I was too shocked to respond when this new manager of mine pulled me out into the hallway. I could hear the two owners arguing as we walked down the hall and up the stairs.At the top of the stairs, I got my second wind. “You can’t keep me here. I demand that you let me go.”He opened a door and shoved me through it. “Look, I know you’ve had a rough start with our organization. We’re just going to keep you here for a few days until you get acclimatized to the way we do things around here. My old man will sort his partner out. He always does. You won’t have to worry about him harassing you. Your door locks from the inside, and outside actually. So, don’t try to leave.”Bewildered, I said, “None of this makes any sense. This isn’t how jobs work.”“Our organization works a little different,” was his clipped reply.I glanced around the luxurious room. It was decorated in pastels and looked like something fit for a princess. “What happened to your last star attraction?”He went ramrod straight and hesitated before admitting, “She killed herself.”Seeing my shocked reaction, he added, “That’s the only way you end up escaping this situation. This is a good job. You’ll get paid just like we promised. The problem is that you are an extremely rare commodity. My old man is not going to let you just walk out of here because you had a run-in with Tony on your first day. We need a good entertainer because when we don’t have one, we start bleeding customers to Stumpy Don’s down the street. I’m sorry, but you’re here until we find someone better, or you go out feet first.”“So I’m trapped here? Like, forever?”“No. Of course not. We’re not monsters. We’re mobsters. You can go anywhere you like as long as you have one of my guys with you. If you try to run, we’ll track you down. You signed your life away and your grandmother’s. That nice nursing home? Forget about it. You walk and she’s out on the streets. This may seem dramatic in your world, but it happens all the time in ours.”“I want to see my grandmother tomorrow, and what about my motel room?”“Give it a few days, Isabella. Once my father and Uncle Tony are certain you understand how things work, they’ll be more likely to approve you going out with an escort.” He tugged my purse from beneath my arm, pulled out my cell phone, and pocketed it. He walked out of the room and I heard the lock click into place.This was really happening. I was no longer operating under my own free will. Shock filled every corner of my mind. I collapsed into a nearby armchair and covered my face with my hands. I wept bitterly. It was just my luck to answer an ad for a mobster’s establishment. I didn’t know why I thought things would finally turn around for me after all this time. This was just more proof that nothing ever went right for me.