Page 8 of Hammer’s Fall

An hour later, he’d given her a phone, and she’d made the call to her housekeeper. She’d never tried to leave the room and hadn’t seemed to care that he listened in on the whole conversation. After she’d finished and given him back the phone, he’d taken her out to the common room and introduced her to Winter, who had been joined by Miranda.

Now, he was busy at the computer handling shit for the club and looking for more on Camila’s father. Clearly, he’d missed something, and he was determined to figure out what and how.

Chapter Eight

Camila sat at a table in the middle of a huge room with two women she’d just met, and staring into the cup of coffee in front of her as she tried to process everything she’d been through in the last twelve hours.

Had it really been less than a day ago that she was at home, wishing she could escape her life? How had so much happened, so much changed, in such a short amount of time?

“What kind of work have you done?” Winter asked.

“Or what are you good at, what do you like to do?” Miranda put in.

“I’m not sure. I am okay at social chat. But other than light housework, I’ve never done much work.”

Winter frowned. “You’ve never worked? What about school? Do you have a degree?”

Camila shook her head, not bothering to hide her sad smile. “I never even went to normal school. I had a tutor until I was eighteen.”

“You didn’t graduate?”

“No, but my tutor used an online program to make sure I got a bachillerato.”

“What’s that?” Winter asked, clearly confused. “Is that like bachelor’s degree?”

Camila shook her head. “In Mexico it’s primaria, secundaria, then bachillerato. Mine is the last one—high school I think you call it.” She rolled her lips inward and bit them as she watched the two women’s faces, hoping she hadn’t gotten it wrong. “The only thing I have that I would consider a skill is that I speak three languages, but what use is Portuguese here?”

Winter’s brows shot up. “You speak Portuguese?”

Camila nodded. Winter picked up a phone and seemed to be sending some kind of message, but Camila was afraid to ask. It wasn’t any of her business anyway.

“You never went to school?” Miranda asked.

“No. Never. I was rarely allowed to go into town, and when I was allowed, I had to stay with the housekeeper or my father’s men. I’m afraid I don’t have a lot to offer.”

“We’ll find something. We can always teach you how to do something.”

“Can I ask what you do? How do you earn your place?”

The other women stared at her long enough Camila became uncomfortable. She itched to lower her head and pull her shoulders up around her head, but she resisted. While Papá had expected her to keep her eyes down and never challenge him, he’d also taught her to never show weakness, at least not to anyone but him. And even then he only wanted to see the ‘weakness’ he demanded. He didn’t care about her pain, her broken heart, or anything that didn’t directly impact him or what he wanted.

“Earn my place?” Winter asked, a crease between her brows.

Camila frowned. “Maybe I am saying this wrong. Let me try again. How do you contribute? Not be a burden?”

Winter scowled, then her brows shot up. “You think they’re going to make you be club ass?” Winter shook her head. “That’s not how this club works.”

Camila shook her head. “No. Bulldog already told me I wouldn’t have to do that.” She glanced in the direction of the woman she’d seen in the middle of a sex act only an hour before then back to Winter. “I just wondered what you do so you do not feel like a burden.” While seeing what the woman was doing earlier had been surprising, it hadn’t shocked her. Her father had made sure she’d seen more than a little porn as part of her education. He’d made sure she had no hands-on experience, but he wanted her to be able to please whoever he’d bartered her off to, so she’d been assigned things to watch, then quizzed on what happened to make sure she’d actually watched.

“I think she wants to feel useful,” Miranda said to Winter, then turned back to Camila. “Is that it? You want to do something to help the club?”

“Yes, that is it.” Camila said.

Winter picked up her phone and looked at the screen then turned back to Camila.

“I do graphic arts work. I’ve been working on redoing some of the ads for the different businesses the club run. We’re hoping it will help bring in some new business.” Winter said.

“I don’t do much,” Miranda put in, with a half-hearted shrug. “Help with laundry and in the kitchen when I can.”