Red and green lights illuminated the stage as three girls worked their poles expertly, swaying their bodies to the beat of the sensual jazz the dee-jay had decided on for this set.
Sofia, or Blaze, as was her name at the Encore Gentleman's Club, focused on walking the floor like she did each night, scouring for the customer who would pay her the most. The private dances paid less, 10$ for a song, but a trip to the champagne lounge upstairs was much more, 300$ an hour and that was exactly what she was aiming for.
She didn't know why anyone paid for those, though, when they could easily find an escort for half the price. But dozens of men put their hundreds down each night, and it was not unusual for them to buy more when the first hour was up.
Making eye contact with a lone guy in a suit, Sofia smiled at him. He smiled back, and she took that as an invitation to make her way towards him. She kept her gaze focused and her steps confident as the man took in her slim body with curves in all the right places clad in a black lace bustier complete with a matching opaque G-string and garter belts. She looked sexy as hell, and she knew it, too.
She'd been dressing that way for nearly a month now, ever since she had joined this club, in hopes that the man she was after would come and she would make him whisk her away.
However, each night, she gave up hope by one in the morning like she had tonight and resorted to focusing solely on making money.
She lightly touched the man's cheek once she had reached him before bending low to whisper in his ear, "Care for a private dance?"
He stared at her, seemingly dazed by her proximity when she felt a tap on her shoulder from behind.
It was Carl, one of the bouncers. "Raquel wants you upstairs right now."
Sofia's brows knitted but she knew not to question him. Raquel was the manager, and when the manager asked you to do something, you did it, no questions asked.
She nodded at Carl to let him know she had heard him before turning to the man in the suit again. "I'll have to go, sugar. Some other day perhaps," she said to him, shooting him a sultry wink before leaving.
As she made her way upstairs to where the Champagne lounges and the manager's office were, she noticed two burly men standing gaurd outside one of the rooms. Sure, there were gaurds outside each of the rooms for the girls' protection in case something went wrong, but these two weren't the regular ones and were much bulkier.
She frowned to herself but made her way towards Raquel's office anyway.
The door was already open, and some of the other girls she'd seen working alongside her stood inside as well. Three, she counted.
"Oh, you're here. Wonderful," Raquel smiled, showing his bright teeth, a stark contrast to his otherwise dark skin and shiny bald head.
"We have a few VIP customers here tonight and I'm sending the fresh new ones to them. You will be paid well, of course. You all know what to do," He told them, standing up before indicating for them to follow him.
Is this VIP customer who she thought he was?
Was he really here after all these days of waiting?
And was getting him to notice her going to be that easy, what with her manager practically offering her up to him on a platter?
Heart hammering in her chest, she followed quietly behind Raquel and the others.
The girls didn't talk to each other much, but they always cared about each other. It was a tight sisterhood and it was an unspoken rule that they always had each other's back as long as they were at the club. Most of them seemed to follow the conviction that it was Us against Them, Blaze included.
She steeled herself, schooling her features into a mask of indifference as they approached the room outside which she had seen those burly men.
Raquel stuck his head in, exchanging a few words with someone inside before opening the door all the way in and ushering the girls in.
Sofia stood in a line with the rest of the girls, her moss green eyes zoning in on the man of the night. He sat in the middle of the room on one of the luxurious single seaters, oozing confidence like no other. None of the numerous photos she had seen of the man could've prepared her for this moment- actually seeing him in the flesh in front of her.
Don Vincenzo Moretti, the King, cold, cutthroat, ruthless. It showed in the way his deep brown eyes scanned the girls, his gaze emotionless, not a single expression in sight on his chiselled face. For a brief moment, his eyes connected with Blaze', and she stared right back, unflinching.
She knew the game and played it well, too. She knew that confidence attracted men like no other but you had to be careful. Too much, and they'd think you arrogant, too little and they'd think you a wuss. It had to be just right.
A ghost of a smirk graced his delectable lips before he dragged a hand accross his 5'o clock shadow, letting his head fall back soon after.
"The one in the black bustier, stay. Rest, leave," came his heavily accented commanding voice, sharp and precise, just like the rest of him.
Sofia. Sofia was the one in the black bustier.
Checkmate.
Raquel appraised Sofia for a moment, giving her an appreciative nod before scurrying out the door with the others.
"Come," Vincenzo said, extending a hand, his eyes still closed.
Mustering up all the courage she could, she walked towards him, the sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood floor being the only sound in the room.
She took his hand. She always thought that someone who had killed and tortured as many people as this man had, his hands would be cold. But no, they were warm, comforting.
"What is your name?" He asked, his italian accent pronounced and sounding sexy as hell as he finally opened his eyes and looked straight into hers.
"Blaze."
"Your real name?"
"That's not something I share with strangers here," she said, keeping her tone light so he knew she was only joking.
"Let's get acquainted then, shall we, Blaze?" He smirked.
Sofia nodded. "Sure," she said, letting him tug her to him until she was seated right in his lap.
Did she mention that he smelled divine? Because he did. Like freshness, hedonism and seduction all rolled into one, a heady mix of coconut water and amber accord. It calmed her, made her want to close her eyes and get lost in it. In him.
She mentally shook her head. Focus, Sofia, focus. You have to make him lust after you, not the other way around, she mentally chastised herself before looking up at him just as his arms came around her waist, trapping her.
"What made you a become a stripper, Blaze?" He asked, his eyes assessing her every move.
To support my child and myself? No, she couldn't let him know that. Not now, not ever.
Instead, she shrugged. "It pays well and I can do whatever I want during the day," she replied, giving him a watered down version of the truth.
"And you? Who are you?" She asked him, toying with a button on his crisp white shirt.
He placed a hand on her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes when they talked. "You did not look away when I was assessing you earlier, do not start now. As for me, I am Vincenzo Moretti."
"And what do you do Mr Moretti?"
"I am a businessman, so to speak," he replied, his lips twisting into a wry smile.
Her own lips pulled up into a smile of her own. To the outside world, he was a businessman, one who owned chains of hotels all over the USA. But she knew it was only a front he put up to launder money and keep his name clean.
That was how the Mafia had always worked. There was no concrete evidence of their work, just speculations, conjecture. The government had tried to arrest them several times, but to no avail; missing witnesses, key pieces of evidence disappeared, other shady things like that.
In the eyes of the law, he really was a businessman.
But to those who knew, he was Don Vincenzo, head of the Moretti Crime family.
"Are you really just a businessman, Mr Moretti?" Sofia asked, wanting to see how he would react to it.
He raised a brow. Sexy. "What makes you think I'm not?"
"I've heard the name before, Mr Moretti. I don't live under a rock."
Much to Sofia's shock and amusement, he actually laughed. "Very well. But for you, I am a businessman. That is all you need to know."
Sofia was smart enough to not question it. She knew the power he held and definitely did not want to push his buttons, at least not tonight. So she simply nodded at him. "I can be whatever you want me to be, too, Mr Moretti. So tell me, what do you want me to be tonight?"
"Be my lover, tonight. Let me hold you close, gattina," his whispered words sent a shiver up her spine, warmth pooling in her chest.
For a moment, he wasn't the feared mafia Don she'd spent so long learning about, only a lonely man yearning to be touched, to be loved.
Her heart nearly melted as he pulled her close, cradling her with the care you would show an infant. He pressed her head against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her petite waist, pulling her flush against him.
She could feel the heat radiating off of him, only the thing fabric of his shirt and her bustier separating them, making her hot all over. She'd done this before, numerous times. It was what a trip to the champagne room entailed, a lap dance, a table dance, or this, being held onto.
But within the circle of Vincenzo's arms, she didn't feel dirty or disgusted like she had with others. Instead, she felt warm, safe. Like nothing could hurt her. It was an odd sensation, one she wasn't used to. One she liked a little too much.
Vincenzo gently rocked her back and forth, crooning softly to her an old Italian melody she didn't recognise.
She closed her eyes, letting the sound settle deep within her bones, c
alming her further. Everything else fell away.
She was held.
That was all she knew in that moment. That was all she needed.