Is she dying?

LILITH'S POV

I gasped as a hand gripped me, stopping me from moving further. A relieved sigh pierced through me as I saw it was Marco.

I couldn't be any happier to see his annoying face; at least he had stopped me from making a terrible mistake.

He pulled me towards the room's corner, where it was quieter. Many people do not come to this part of La Notte; you only come here when you want privacy.

I frown, staring at Marco, wondering what he wanted.

"How are you?" His toffee-brown eyes moved over my body.

"Um, fine, I guess," I laughed. Even as I was anything but that. My body ached from exerting too much pressure on it. You'd think doing this for three years would make me an expert in the field, but I was far from that.

Also, the fact that Marco was asking about my well-being when he had never indeed cared made it even more laughable.

"Good," he nodded. "Do you remember the deal from earlier?"

Tilting my head, I tried to remember the exact deal he was talking about. We had talked about so many things that I couldn't pinpoint which one he meant.

"About a friend that needs you to act the part of a seductress to get some valuable information from someone," He reminded me.

I nodded. Indeed, I recalled that. He had only said that and didn't say anything else. I wondered if he wanted me to know what the friend wanted or whom the friend wanted me to seduce.

"You never spoke much on it," I said.

"Yes, I was making sure the plan was still in order," Marco replied.

For a brief seconds, there was silence until he spoke again. "It's Giovanni Ricci."

My mouth opened agape, and I closed it almost immediately.

"You want me to play the part of a femme fatale to the devil, Giovanni Ricci?!"

Marco sighed, "Listen, Raven. You don't have to come to the club every day to dance for your pay. Trust me, the pay can make you comfortable for as long as you desire."

"How much are we talking about?" I folded my arms in front of me.

"200 thousand euros can be more if you do the right thing," Marco said. "I have the money with me; you only need to do your job, and voila, your money gets to you after the completion."

Two hundred thousand euros was a whole lot of money. My mother could use a part of the money for her treatment.

Chemo was expensive and my job was barely paying me enough to keep up with the bills. I could use some to get what Romeo needed as well, as well as for myself.

"Do you agree to it?"

"Do I get to think about it?" I asked him. The offer was, well, huge, but then again, it was something dangerous.

Marco gripped my shoulder, staring at me in the eyes. He was several inches taller than me, so he was looking down at me in the eyes.

"Think about it now, Raven. I am sure if I walk out of here and give this offer to Flora, she'll accept it without batting a lash. But you had the potential, hence I came to you."

Flora would definitely jump on the offer and wouldn't think twice before going to him. I knew any girl would accept, but I was reasonable. Giovanni Ricci was dangerous, and I didn't want to get caught up in whatever game they were playing with him.

But I needed the money.

"Will a trial be good for today?"

"Certainly, Raven," Marco grinned, then he patted my back, "Good luck."

"I needed that," I murmured, breathing in and out, before returning to the main area.

"Wait here," One of the burly men guarding the entrance to the VIP section said as I reached there.

I did as he said, then slapped his hands as he proceeded to prod me. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Weren't you taught by your mother to treat a lady gently? And who said you could search me?!"

"You're no lady, you're a whore," He replied, nudging me.

"Don't fucking touch me," my teeth gritted, as I glared at him.

But he didn't listen to me. He groped my ass, then proceeded to slip his hand into the dress I wore. It was a V-shaped sequined dress which gave him more access to my skin.

I jammed my heel—six inches stiletto— into his bootclad foot as hard as I could.

"You little bitch," he hissed, and his hand raised to hit me.

"Let her be," a voice said from inside the room. Deep, rough, and dark.

I shuddered as it washed over me, my stomach tightening into knots and strange sensations spreading through me, from my toes to my vagina.

Weird.

"Lucky," He said, before shoving me forward.

I turned to him, pointing my index finger at him, "No, you are lucky."

He ignored me as if I wasn't speaking to him and maintained the composure he had worn before my appearance.

"Do you keep standing there, or you'll come to me?"

I walked into the room slowly. There was no one else here, except the man that was sitting on the sofa. I squinted as I tried to make out his features, but I could barely see much due to the lighting. But I made out perfect slicked-back hair, strong jawlines, full lips, prominent cheekbones, and the proud aquiline nose that tilted in the air.

He patted the seat beside him, and I walked to it as if I were on a remote control.

Sitting, I placed my hands on my lap. This was the time to play the game right? Pull out every damned confidence in my bone, and give him the best seductive smile I could muster, but for some reason, I couldn't.

He fucking made me nervous and I didn't know why.

"How old are you?"

"25," I lied. It was a rule never to say your real age to your client.

Again, a lot of girls who danced for La Notte were minors. However, you would never know their real age due to the heavy makeup that concealed their natural look. That made them look older.

Giovanni stared at me up and down as if he didn't believe a word I said, but he said nothing.

There was silence between us for a brief second, and the only sound I heard was the soft music playing in the room.

He pushed a cup filled with liquor to me, "You drink?"

I shook my head, then proceeded to grasp the cup, downing the content,surprising him and myself. I regretted my decision soon after as the liquid burned my throat, my eyes brimmed with tears and immediately I felt woozy.

"You weren't meant to drink that," I heard Giovanni say. His voice sounded somewhat distant.

What was I meant to drink? Was the liquid spiked? I clutched my throat, my eyes rolling back inside my head as I fell back on the sofa.

"Is she dying?" I recognized the voice. It was the stupid guard.

"Only one way to know," was Giovanni's response. That was the only word I heard as well before I drifted into unconsciousness.