Page 26

26

MADDOX

I stare at Alissa. “What?”

She swallows. “Rouge knows that May spoke to me. I denied it, but I accidentally let slip that I knew her name earlier today, and she’s been”—air quotes—“ suspended .”

I take a sip of my drink. “So she gets a small vacation. Doesn’t seem too bad to me.”

“Yeah, if that’s what actually happened.” She leans in and lowers her voice. “What if something worse happened to her?”

I frown. “Alissa, this is just an underground bar and club. Rouge keeps a very specific aesthetic, and Seven broke it when?—”

“May.”

I nod. “Sure. May broke it when she spoke to you.”

“But she said that her friend disappeared. What if the same thing has happened to her?”

I rub at my forehead. “My guess is that her friend didn’t disappear. She simply moved on, probably wanted to get the hell out of here.”

“Why would she want to do that?”

“Because she wanted to take her shot at a real life.” I gesture discreetly toward Rouge’s red office door. “Rouge sponsors immigrants, usually ones that are living in inescapable poverty, and she brings them over here. She helps them get green card status, gives them housing and a good job as a server for five years, and allows them to save up to start a life outside.”

“Does she pay them an actual wage?”

“Hell, I don’t know. She’s been doing it this way for years. If it weren’t on the up and up, she’d have been shut down. She pays for the transport over to the United States, covers their room and board. In exchange, they work for Aces for five years and then she gently pushes them out of the nest.”

“So Svetlana, May’s friend, finished out her time here and…went on to live the American Dream?”

“That would be the leading theory, yes,” I say.

“It doesn’t sound legal.”

I shrug. “I’m not an immigration attorney, but if she’s paying them for their work and helps them with their status, what’s the problem? Rouge has brought in thousands of people, people who would never make it to this country without a little assistance.” I gesture around the club, pointing out a few gray-haired men. “But these men are city councilmembers, state senators. If Rouge were doing something wrong, they wouldn’t let her get away with it.”

She bites her lip. “Bread and circuses…”

I chuckle. “That term usually refers to politicians pulling the wool over civilians’ eyes. Not the opposite.”

“But still, it’s ethically dicey at best.”

“And what in this world isn’t? ” I take another sip of my drink. I learned a long time ago from my old man that ethics come at a high cost sometimes. “The people who work as waitstaff here might die in poverty otherwise. And they’re here legally. Rouge sponsors their green cards herself. They’re told in no uncertain terms exactly what they’re signing up for before she brings them over. Five years of service in exchange for room and board and Rouge covering all their immigration expenses.”

She raises a finger. “But does she pay them?”

“I told you, I don’t know. But yes, I assume she probably does. How else would they save up to get out and make something of themselves?”

“But how can they know any of this? May barely speaks English. I assume that’s the case with some of the other servers.”

“Rouge has a genius IQ. She speaks multiple languages fluently, and if she doesn’t speak a certain language, I assume she hires an interpreter. She’s an excellent pianist and violinist, has an art gallery downtown, and runs multiple businesses outside of Aces. She even has a law degree.”

Alissa narrows her eyes. “A law degree?”

“Sure.” I laugh. “You have to know the law to skirt around it.”

I’m kidding—mostly—but Alissa doesn’t seem amused.

“Where does she find these people?”

“Foreign countries. She travels a few times a year.”

“How does she decide who to choose?”

I clear my throat. “Well, they have to be attractive. Healthy. In good shape.”

She scoffs. “So the uggos don’t make the cut?”

I run my hands through my hair. “I didn’t say it was fair. But Rouge is the one putting her money up. It’s not as if she’s running a charity. She also covers their medical expenses while they’re here, so anyone with a chronic condition probably won’t be chosen. She’s running a for-profit business.”

“And they have to be nice-looking, too.”

“She wants the waitstaff to look good, yeah.”

“So she can whore them out to the patrons?”

I shrug. “Like I said, it’s all consensual. They all know what they’re signing up for when they come.” I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “These people have their whole lives ahead of them. They can make something of themselves. And five years of service to the club is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”