Madeline's POV:
The infectious sounds of Jazz filled the room as the crowd began to cheer. "Dance Madeline! Dance!"
I looked over at my husband, who waved his hand dismissively as he smoked his pipe.
Rolling my eyes, I took my place on the dance floor amongst my friends. The man on stage certainly knew how to draw a crowd.
"Flash of ankle, flip of a skirt. Feel them excite, enflame and inspire! Come see me dance. Hey! What can it hurt?" I cheered, trying desperately to get the singer's attention.
The crowd around me erupted into a series of loud cheers and applause as I finished my dance and the singer finished his performance.
I watched as people flocked to the bar to get a drink. The man was packing his saxophone away after a wonderful performance.
"Excuse me, sir?" I whispered, catching his attention. "I just wanted to say you gave a wonderful performance up there."
He smiled softly. "Why thank you, Ma'am. I don't believe we've met before. Charles Milton, Jazz extraordinaire," he said, extending his hand.
I shook it. "Madeline Scotts," I said softly.
"Beautiful," he whispered, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles softly.
I blushed softly. No one had ever been so kind to me before. Most men were scared of me, or rather my husband, Robert.
"You truly are a wonderful dancer, Mrs. Scotts. I think the crowd enjoyed your performance much more than they did mine," he laughed.
I blushed once again. "Oh nonsense, Mr. Milton. You really are a great performer," I said. "And please, call me Madeline."
He nodded slowly. "Well in that case, I think you should call me Charles."
I nodded slowly, my smile quickly fading as I heard the stern voice of my husband. "Come, Madeline."
"Well that's my cue, I suppose. I should really be going," I muttered.
"Of course. I hope to see you again Madeline?" he asked hopefully.
I nodded slowly. "And I you, Charles," I said quietly, scurrying off in my husband's direction. I kept my head down as I approached him. "Yes, Dear?"
He rolled his eyes. "Lift your eyes when I'm talking to you woman," he spat, forcing my head upwards.
"Yes.. of course, Dear," I muttered.
"Now.. what were you doing talking to that other man?" he asked, anger flashing in his eyes like the flames of Hell.
"We were just talking.." I muttered.
"Lies! I know you were trying to seduce him!"
"I wasn't! I swear! I was just congratulating him on a wonderful performance," I said.
"It doesn't matter what you say, I know what I saw," he muttered. "You are mine, and mine alone."
The tone of his voice was dark and cold. I knew he meant what he said.
"Yes, Dear.. I'm yours," I whispered, keeping my head down as he grabbed my arm.
"Good. Now, let's go," he spat, pulling me forcefully towards the exit.
Charles smiled as he saw me, but his smile quickly faded as Robert dragged me away.
"Madeline, are you alright?" he asked nervously.
But before I could even open my mouth to respond, Robert had dragged me out of the club and into the Manhattan streets. "Mark my words, you will NEVER see that man again, not as long as I'm alive. Understood?"
I said nothing. I knew if I said what was truly on my mind, I'd be dead in a heartbeat. Robert was a very possessive man, and anyone could see he got jealous very easily. And trust me, it wasn't good for anyone when Robert was jealous.
He treated me like property. I was to serve him in any way he saw fit, and wether that be a housewife or a sex slave could easily change from one moment to the next.
"Since you disobey, I shall have no choice but to punish you," he muttered, slapping me hard across the face.
Of course he'd struck me before, it happened so often that I didn't even cry anymore. I was used to it.
But even in the company of my jealous husband, I couldn't stop thinking about Charles. How kind he'd been. His genuine smile and intelligent eyes.
Of course people had complemented my dancing before, but for whatever reason this felt different. His complements sounded sincere.
"I know you're thinking about him.." Robert's cold voice rang through the silence of the night, quickly snapping me from my thoughts and bringing me back to reality.
My sick, twisted reality...