Xiomara

Light. Bright. Shimmering delight. It is all I saw as soon as I stepped in there with Sierra and Lily on their toes, trailing close by. 

'Umm…this place is…' Sierra's voice trails off in the background. Her struggle to grasp appropriate vocabulary is evident and so is the nervousness on the surface. 

There is something about the place that spreads a negatively dark vibe. I cannot exactly put a finger on it but it is there. On the surface, away from the eyes!

If we had thought that we had seen it all in the past three years, we have much more to come. There are disgusting truths and unbearable realities that are still there to unfold—stories I have never imagined even in my worst nightmares. But shriek in the walls of Khanum. 

My newly skilled analytical brain does not take long to examine that all of it can lead us to a dead end. 

'There are many more tales of miseries and arm-twisting constraints in the Duong that are being sung in silence, yet the sonnet of Khanum pierces the loud echoes and screams the horrors, only a devil can have the heart to listen.'  

At eight in the night, Murad knocks at the door of the brothel with us at his back. It is supposed to be my first prominent step toward the ruins of Alpha Ibhaan. 

'I cannot just imagine what would compel a wo-she-wolf to sell her body. It's disheartening.' Sierra agrees, looking tense for obvious reasons. 

Murad chooses not to answer it. 

'The business is closed today, visit tomorrow.' A young werewolf, probably in his early twenties, opens the doors and shuts them immediately at our faces without even a second glance.

'Lach! I want to meet Xiomara. I have serious business to discuss.' Murad bangs the door again. His demeanour changes in a flicker and almost a new personality replaces his otherwise amicable attitude. 

Sierra and I exchanged a look but could not come up to say anything. 

The boy opens the door with a sheepish smile. He stares at the ground mumbling a quick apology and steps aside. Murad did not bother with another glance and in a second we were standing in the courtyard surrounded by at least some three hundred she-wolves—all of whom were as scantily dressed as possible and gawking at us with expectant eyes as if waiting for an opera to unfold. 

From the corner of my eyes, I spot Kathleen standing in the corner of the second floor. I avoid the usual exchange of pleasantries between Murad and Senhora  and take a look around the brothel. 

There are rooms everywhere I could see—up to the fifth story. The dim blue paint is peeling off and the doors are rusting. There are aroma candles that illuminate and spread a seductive fragrance. From where I stand, I can spot a couple of torn and worn-out couches in the corridors. 

In the middle of the courtyard, on a squeaky bed lies the Queen of this place—Xiomara Henggeler. 

'Who are you?' Her voice is sharp and drips off the confidence that I have never seen before in any she-wolf or female. It snaps me off the trance and jolts weird energy. 

My golden eyes meet with her charcoal black of her. The world stops at her command. What passes between us for the next couple of minutes is transcendental. A teasing smile is playing on our lips. 

In my life of twenty-five years, I have met many vampiresses, she-wolves, females, concubines, witches, fairies, and on occasions women too—Ambitious and those who are always satisfied, gold-diggers and the two goody-shoes, the sluts, and the innocent, the intelligent and the dumb, the manipulative and those who are always on their toes to dance around. But none like her. 

Xiomara  Henggeler, the Queen of Khanum and Senhora of the Brothel, is special. Looking at her charming face, I am almost in a trance as if she has cast a impenetrable spell on me. 

Why did I not see it coming? I think and curse myself. 

I have spent a whole year roaming around these lanes, planning, rehearsing, gathering facts, and shaking truths. How can this one significant detail slip through my fingers?

Ella, my snake, hisses in the brain. It is up in a jolt as if it has met a long-lost friend. For some unknown reason, I could not avert my eyes away from Xiomara who was peering at me with equal intensity. 

I gulp at the sensation and drop my eyes to the toes. My insides alarm me that Xiomara isn't anything to play with. The blonde she-wolf has a heart of gold. I was told, but why was I not told about her overpowering personality?

'I am Sarah, waitress at The Tiffany's and these are my friends, Sierra and Lily.' I reply hesitatingly. My eyes have grown a mind of their own—the ragged Italian tiles seem to be the most fascinating object in the world. 

I hate how timid I sound in front of her. I am an Empress, a woman who is born to rule and lead. I should not be intimidated by a mere prostitute to the least. My toes curl in embarrassment as I comb with myself to look up. 

The lady seemed to get over whatever was bothering her. Her intensity has faded away and a taunting smile caressed her thickly painted red lips knowingly. 

At the age of thirty-two, Xiomara is aptly maintained with her busty figure, short height, and curly tresses. For a woman of her business, Xiomara is surprisingly flawless with no trace of having had sex the night before and before. She could be a she-wolf with an appetite or maybe she doesn't do the business at all. 

Generally, the servers from brothels are always covered in bruises or hickeys. The monsters are beasts in bed. Their tired eyes, swollen lips, and limping walks scream the saga of their nights in detail. Their moans have been vibrating the walls for ages. 

Xiomara seems to have taken an exception—either that or she does not work at all. I conclude firmly. 

'What brought you here, Sa—Sarah? Sarah, it is?' Her purrs in my ear knowingly. 

I nod. I have lost all of my ability to talk or breathe at all. 

'Did that Fat Little cook spread your legs already? Swept the spatula? Cooked an omelette out of your ovaries?' Senhora cracks what might have been a bad joke, but the she-wolves around her have taken a hilarious pinch in it. 

The Khanum echoes at our humiliation. My hands clenched to the side in frustration at being overpowered. Wasn't she supposed to jump at the thought of getting two women for free and push us to business right away? 

She doesn't have to pay anyone. Why is she being a pain in the ass and interrogating us like a bloody damn cop?

'No one did anything to us!' I seethed through gritted teeth. 'We are virgins.' I lie, pinning her under a serial killer glare. 

Fake it till you make it! They say. I practice. 

'I see!' Xiomara lets out a fake sigh. In these moments of futile combat, I see my worst fear coming alive and twerking at my face. 

I have crossed the two wooden doors at least a thousand times in a year. It was the first time I have seen a she-wolf so beautiful and open yet so reserved and bitchy. The depth in her is sending me chills. Still, I'd rather die than let it appear on the surface. 

Something tells me that arrogance, manipulation, and smiles are weapons Xiomara is using to defend herself from the world. Her eyes held sorrow and fire. In friction, something crosses through them. She almost seems concerned but masked it beautifully with another sad smile that does not reach her eyes moist with unshed tears.  

'Why do you want to travel through the yards of black roses when you can bloom into charming orchids? You have the fragrance, just let it spread and let it go! It's the best you can do to yourself and others. You are a charming woman, Darling…hate has done nothing but destroy worlds.' She whispers. 

The khol-stuffed eyes soften a bit and seem distant as if it wasn't a suggestion but a monologue that Xiomara has been delivering to herself. The air around me becomes thick and tense. None of the ladies or the two werewolves utter a word. 

It's the conversation of the eyes which is exclusive to everyone else. It is the cosmos reclining. 

'Sometimes, fighting is far better an option than letting go, Ma'am. At least, the warriors take no grudges to his deathbed.' I speak each word slowly. 

Silence lingers in the air as Xiomara stands rigid like a statue and searches my eyes. 

I have played this staring game millions of times with my pathetic-ass Emperor. I am a pro at it. I can not be defeated. 

'What makes you so desperate to sell your bodies to those hungry wolves, Darling? They are beasts full of lust and nothing else. They will rip you apart. Why do you want to ruin yourself? Why not give yourself to a man who would die in love for you rather than to those who worship the organ dangling in between their legs? You have a better destiny ahead of you. Don't burn!' 

At first glance, Xiomara seems to radiate an aura of a rude bitch who wouldn't take any shit from anyone, but a closer glance won't take twice before blowing one's mind away.

She cares. 

Senhora  Xiomara is not what I had imagined her to be. Instead of the old rag with an evil lust for money, she is a young she-wolf with captivating eyes and even a tantalising mouth. Her face is glowing with power and pride. She is ruthlessly stubborn and knows to get her way—as if she has seen it all, taken it all. 

I was here first…before you! Her eyes scream. I know better.

'Her grandmother is sick. We have been told that the guests with Luna pay handsomely. We are here for money, Ma'am. We will do anything.' I repeat the line like a well-versed parrot. I have been planning the whole scene for a month now.

I have figured out every minor detail. I am not reverting at any cost. No matter what, Luna is dying today. 

I will have to add the sobs and chokes to make it more believable and eventually, the Senhora would melt or so I had thought. 

Her ankles chime as eliminates the distance between her bed and the stairs where I, Sierra and Lily are standing. 

I rake my eyes around, meanwhile, to find various curious eyes pinned over us. The she-wolves were all dressed scantily with their hair let loose and heavy makeup to hide the scars life has left on them.

'What do you want, girl?' Xiomara repeats with humiliating sassiness. She uses her index finger to raise my chin and take a careful glance. I was standing a couple of paces away from both Murad and Lachlan and beside the comforting warmth of Sierra and Lily. Nonetheless, her presence made me gulp.

The she-wolf reeks of something that I crave every single day: fearlessness and painfully unbudging independence.

'Money!' Sierra whispers breathlessly. Even from afar, everyone can hear the shiver in her voice. The Khanum echoes with giggles and laughter of the workers. To mingle with noise, the clock struck with a gong of eight.

We only have two hours to convince Senhora  Xiomara to let us in. The escorts would be leaving at nine. Kathleen had told me that the guests were to be entertained after ten. It is how the brothels work, I figured. 

'I cannot take any of them. They are too pure to be part of this world. Take them away, Murad . I will pay for their grandmother's surgery. Shoo!' The refusal is slapped on our faces almost immediately. 

Xiomara  Senhora comes out to be a tougher nut to crack than I'd initially take her to be. Her face is stern and deprived of any emotions whatsoever. There is a certain sorrow in her eyes that almost melts my heart while it ignites the fire in my brain. 

I can feel her loneliness through the layers of mightiness she has pulled. There is something mysterious about the lady that wants me to hug her and assure her that everything will come out to be fine and that I am here for her as she is for me. 

'Please, Senhora ! We need the money we cannot return. We will do everything you say: strip, pole! Kathleen  has told us about all of it. We will satisfy your clients and make sure they visit us again. We can commission some of our tips too. Just let us in, please.' Lily pleads. The desperation in her voice not only surprise Murad and Senhora, but it also puts me in a trance too. For some reason, I could not come up to speak anything in front of the lady that Xiomara.

It is perhaps the first time I am overwhelmed and overpowered by someone's personality to the extent of being spellbound. I am tongue-tied. 

Whatever it is, it is going to cost me another year of misery and burn of revenge. 

Do. Something. I tell myself, hurriedly racking my brain for a way out of it. From my peripheral vision, I glance at Murad heaving a defeated sigh—he is about to give up. No! You cannot. 

I squeeze my eyes as I try to recollect everything bad that has ever happened to me. It's time, I exhaust everything I learned. 

I kick Ella in my head, and elbow Sierra Before I slump down on the ground with a loud cry, erupting from the depth of my heart.

'I thought you were like me, one amongst us…' I chose my words wisely, nailing the confirmation straight into Xiomara 's emotionless face.