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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Lilah</span></span>
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</div></div><br/>There was always a rhythm and flow to meeting a new client.  Sit still, look pretty, let the client take the lead.  Let them evaluate the merchandise, let them decide if she was worth the large sum of money they’d just handed to Shailen.  Fawn over them, make them think it was<i>real</i>even though they both knew it wasn’t.<br/><br/>Lilah shifted on her stool, letting the man’s hand slide across her back as she took another sip from her martini, careful not to leave a lipstick imprint behind.  One hand was just on the verge of reaching for her clutch and the cigarette case contained within but Shailen’s voice stayed her hand.<br/><br/>Bill Petroskey’s hand clenched on her back, pushing into the spots that would become bruises by morning.  “What is this?” he hissed as his eyes darted between Shailen and the Glantz brothers.  “You better not be fucking me over.”<br/><br/>Her initial response was a non-committal sound in the back of her throat as she took another drink.  “I have no idea who they are,” she responded calmly as she set the glass down onto the cocktail napkin Giovanni had so thoughtfully provided.  The pressure on her lower back was becoming a painful annoyance so she arched her back to see if Bill would catch the hint.  He didn’t.  She could have made him move his hand but her attention was focused on the mirror and the scene playing out behind her.<br/><br/>Shailen had broken some rule, that much was quite clear.  Concern flickered across her face.  If Rappaport had broken a rule then there was potential for this to impact her business.  Straightening, she leaned back against Petroskey, using him as a vague form of cover against the discussion at Shailen’s table.<br/><br/>Another sip of her martini concealed her vested interest in the proceedings.  Mica was the first recipient of her undivided attention.  It was quite clear he was the one in charge here.  The other man, the one with the tattoos, was playing second fiddle to him and even Shailen cowered under his accusation.  Her gaze shifted to Rishon, watching how he lightened the dark mood building in the air then recoiled away from the growing stain on the scared man’s pants.  She almost laughed at that but soft fingertips creeping along her skin drew her back to Bill’s face in the mirror.<br/><br/>Sweat was beading on his upper lip as anger turned his neck and face red.  His fingers, not clammy as much they were hot now, continued their journey up her back before forcing their way into the side of her backless dress.  His other hand found her shoulder and forced her back to arch as thick fingers clambered and clawed along her ribcage.<br/><br/>Her nostrils flared.  Her lips pressed together into a thin line.  She twisted her torso to lessen the pressure on her side.  Not enough to draw attention, not enough to cause a scene, not with two unknown men behind her already throwing the night’s rhythm out of whack.  Lilah wasn’t here for drama anyway.  She was here to sit still, look pretty, and go with the customer for exactly one hour to make some money.  A hefty amount too even after Shailen got his cut.<br/><br/>“That hurts, Tiger.  I’m not going anywhere.  Play nice and let me finish my drink and then we can go.”  She’d nurse the drink for a long as she could.  There was too much going on behind her for her to want to leave yet.  Those two men with their pretty eyes seemed like a pair that would be worth her while.<br/><br/>She would have continued to keep herself in martinis for quite some time if it meant continuing to eavesdrop on Shailen and these new associates of his but one of them, the one she’d been unable to keep her eyes from, stole Giovanni away to discuss private business.  The other one with the tattoos seemed to be far more interested in toying with Shailen.  He’d be the one to target though.  He seemed like he’d enjoy her services far more than the other one.<br/><br/>Lilah’s mouth curved into a small twist of a smirk that disappeared almost as soon as it had settled into place as Bill Petoskey’s fingers continued around her ribs until they found the underside of her breast.  There was nothing gentle in the way his hand forced its way further into her dress, testing the limits of its material, until he could drop and fondle with impunity.  “Tiger,” she warned in a low tone as she tried to twist away.<br/><br/>“Sit.  Still.”  His hands found a strength she did not think possible as he held her in place, squeezing and touching her in ways meant to<i>hurt</i>.<br/><br/>Once again, her nostrils flared delicately.  She knew pain, knew it intimately, had experienced far worse than some wannabe tough guy copping a feel in a bar to make himself feel better but what he was doing was ruining the careful dance the evening was meant to follow.  He would not be allowed to get away with this indiscretion but she preferred to mete out punishment privately.  Bill only had himself to blame though - he’d crossed the line into crude behavior and he’d never specified what his preferences for the hour would be.  If he was so intent on hurting her, it was only fair that she return the favor.<br/><br/>Her finger twitched toward her small beaded handbag.  She wanted a cigarette.  “I’ll sit still if you removed your hand from my dress.”<br/><br/>Bill’s eyes darted from Rishon to Shailen then down to the top of her head.  He ripped his hand from her dress and ignored her gasp of pain as his nails scratched the underside of her breast.  Petoskey grabbed her upper arm and yanked her to her feet.  Unable to quickly find her balance on the very high heels she wore, Lilah stumbled forward several steps as a wordless exclamation of shock and annoyance slipped out.<br/><br/>“Shut the fuck up and let’s go, you goddamn cunt,” he commanded before punctuating the order with a hard slap to her face.