Chapter 59
The strip club sat on the southern edge of the territory, squeezed between a pawn shop that looked like it had been abandoned years ago and a laundromat with steam constantly pouring from its windows.
The building itself was old.
Two stories tall with faded pink paint peeling off the walls in long strips, like the place was slowly shedding its skin. Time and weather had worn it down until the color looked closer to pale bone than pink.
Above the entrance, the neon sign flickered weakly.
Several letters were missing.
What once read The Velvet Rose now only said:
The Ve t Ro e.
Elijah parked across the street and sat quietly inside the car for a moment, studying the building through the windshield.
Even in daylight, the place carried a strange atmosphere.
The windows were dark, but movement shifted behind them. Shadows crossed the glass while faint music leaked through the walls. At one point, he saw the outline of a woman walking past the front entrance before disappearing deeper inside.
After a few seconds, Elijah stepped out and crossed the street.
The moment he entered, he realized the inside looked far better than the outside.
The main room was larger than expected.
A stage stood in the center surrounded by rows of chairs and small circular tables. The furniture was old, but clean. Someone had taken care of the place despite its condition. The stage itself showed signs of wear, scratches covering the edges of the polished wood, but the lights above it still worked.
Dim red lighting glowed softly around the walls.
Dark fabric covered most of the interior, hiding cracks and patched sections underneath. Whoever designed the lighting had done their best to make the flaws disappear.
Aurora stood near the stage talking to two women.
One was tall with dark skin and long black hair that almost seemed to absorb the light around it. The other was shorter and curvier with bright orange hair that clearly came from a bottle rather than genetics.
Neither of them were dressed for work.
Loose sweatpants.
Tank tops.
Comfortable clothes.
The kind people wore before a long shift.
Aurora looked up first.
Her silver hair was tied into a tight braid today, and her sharp blue eyes immediately locked onto Elijah. The two women followed her gaze a second later, their expressions instantly becoming cautious when they saw him.
"It's fine," Aurora said calmly. "He's the owner."
The tension eased slightly.
The taller woman gave Elijah a short nod while the orange-haired woman offered a small, uncertain smile before both disappeared through a door near the back of the club.
Probably the dressing rooms.
Aurora walked toward him with her arms crossed.
"What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to check on you," Elijah replied. "See how things were going."
"They're going."
She glanced around the room briefly before sighing.
"The girls are nervous. Most of them still don't know what to expect from us yet."
"And what did you tell them?"
"The truth."
Aurora leaned lightly against one of the empty tables.
"I told them I couldn't promise everything would magically become perfect overnight." Her voice stayed calm and direct. "But I could promise that we'd protect them better than the Thorn Wolves did."
Elijah nodded slowly.
That alone was already a major difference.
His eyes moved around the club again.
The place had potential.
He could see it clearly.
With money and proper management, the building could become something far more profitable than it currently was. Better lighting. Better furniture. Better security. Better atmosphere.
The foundation was already here.
It just needed someone willing to build on it.
"How are you doing?" Elijah asked.
Aurora raised an eyebrow.
"You came all the way here just to ask me that?"
"Yes."
For a moment, she looked genuinely caught off guard by the question.
Then her shoulders relaxed slightly.
"I'm tired," she admitted. "But that's normal."
Her eyes drifted toward the back rooms.
"I've been talking to the girls all morning. Listening to complaints, fears, rumors. Some of them have worked places like this for years. Some are barely adults."
There was frustration hidden beneath her calm voice.
"They're all just trying to survive."
Elijah stayed quiet for a second before speaking again.
"You said during the meeting that you've worked in places like this before."
Aurora immediately went still.
The shift was subtle.
Her expression barely changed, but something behind her eyes hardened slightly.
For several long seconds, she didn't answer.
The only sounds in the room were the hum of refrigerators behind the bar and muffled voices coming from somewhere deeper inside the building.
Finally, Aurora exhaled slowly.
"I was a stripper for three years," she said flatly.
No embarrassment.
No hesitation.
Just truth.
"I started when I was seventeen."
Elijah remained silent and let her continue.
"I needed money," Aurora said. "And I didn't have many options."
She walked toward one of the chairs near the stage and sat down while resting her elbows on her knees.
"My parents were gone. I had dropped out of school. I was living in a tiny apartment in the 8th District with three other girls trying to survive the exact same way."
Elijah sat down beside her.
"The club I worked at was worse than this place," Aurora continued. "Much worse."
Her voice stayed emotionless, but Elijah could feel the anger underneath it.
"The owner was a man named Varki. He smiled while stealing from people. The kind of man who pretended to care about you right before ruining your life."
Her hands tightened together slightly.
"He didn't protect the girls. If customers got violent, he ignored it. If we complained, he cut our hours. If someone wanted to leave..." She laughed quietly without humor. "He always found ways to keep them trapped."
Elijah listened carefully without interrupting.
"I stayed there for three years," Aurora said. "Three years pretending to smile at men I hated. Three years letting people look at me like I wasn't even human."
Her eyes lowered briefly.
"And every dollar I earned went into savings."
"So you could leave," Elijah said quietly.
Aurora nodded once.
"I met someone eventually. A fighter."
Her eyes drifted somewhere distant, toward memories Elijah couldn't see.
"He came into the club one night and asked me if I wanted to learn how to fight."
"You believed him?"
"No," Aurora admitted. "I thought he was insane."
That earned the faintest smile from Elijah.
"But he gave me an address anyway and told me to show up the next day."
"And you did."
"I don't know why." Aurora shrugged slightly. "Maybe I was desperate. Maybe I just wanted my life to become something different."
Her voice softened slightly.
"But I went."
She leaned back in the chair.
"He trained me for free. No hidden intentions. No tricks. Just training."
Elijah could already guess what that must have meant to someone like her back then.
"After six months," Aurora continued, "I walked back into the club and told Varki I was done."
"And he didn't like that."
Aurora smiled coldly.
"He sent men after me."
The smile disappeared just as quickly.
"But by then, I wasn't the same scared seventeen-year-old anymore."
Something dangerous flashed briefly through her eyes.
"They learned to leave me alone after that."
Silence settled between them for a few moments.
Elijah thought about the version of Aurora she used to be.
Young.
Alone.
Trapped.
Fighting for survival long before she ever stepped into an underground ring.
"You understand these girls better than anyone else here," Elijah said eventually. "That's why putting you in charge of this place was the right decision."
Aurora looked at him carefully.
"Only because of that?"
Elijah shook his head.
"I trust you."
For the first time since he arrived, Aurora genuinely looked affected by something he said.
It only lasted a second.
Then her usual calm expression returned.
"I've been fighting for two and a half years now," she said quietly. "And honestly... it's the first thing that's ever made me feel free."
Her eyes moved toward the stage.
"When I'm in the ring, nobody controls me. Nobody owns me. Nobody gets to decide my worth."
She glanced around the club slowly.
"This isn't a fighting ring," she said. "But it's still mine now."
Her voice hardened.
"And the girls here won't go through what I went through. Not if I can stop it."
Elijah nodded slowly.
Then his phone vibrated.
He pulled it out and checked the screen.
One message from Kai.
Location: 8th District. Warehouse on Baxter Street. Be there by nine. The mask is in your glove compartment.
Elijah stared at the message for a second before putting the phone away.
The death matches.
Aurora noticed the shift in his expression immediately.
"Something wrong?"
"Just something I need to handle tonight."
She studied him for a moment but didn't push.
Elijah stood up and started walking toward the door.
Aurora followed beside him with her arms crossed again.
When they reached the entrance, she stopped.
"Be careful," she said quietly.
Elijah smiled faintly.
"I'll try."
He stepped outside and crossed the street toward his car.
The vehicle sat beneath a broken streetlight, hidden beneath layers of shadow cast by the nearby buildings.
Elijah opened the glove compartment the moment he got inside.
A black mask rested there.
He picked it up slowly.
The material felt smooth, lighter than leather but strong enough to survive a fight. It covered the upper half of the face while leaving the mouth exposed.
The eye holes were sharp and angled.
Predatory.
Like something halfway between a shadow and a skull.
Elijah stared at it for several seconds before finally putting it on.