I took a deep breath, readying myself for my performance at Desire Club.
The pounding of my heart rhymed with the music thumping through the dimly lit room.
I adjusted my mask on my face, the dark veil obscuring my vision.
It kept my identity safe but also reminded her of the double life I led: a masked stripper by night and a waitress at an upscale restaurant by day.
Both jobs were necessary to pay for my mother's cancer treatment and keep a roof over our heads.
As I took the stage, the spotlight almost blinded me, making my sequined two-piece sparkle like a constellation against the dark backdrop.
I moved fluidly, each motion in tune with the sensual music. The routine was second nature to me now, a carefully choreographed dance that allowed my mind to wander even as my body performed.
But tonight felt different. A prickle of awareness ran down my spine. I felt a pair of eyes on me, more intense than the usual drunken stares from the men leering loudly in the room.
I opened my eyes, scanning the room as I twirled down the pole, and then I saw him. In the corner, shrouded by the shadows, was a man whose presence dominated the whole room.
I didn't know his name or who he was, but his aura was undeniable. Dark hair, chiselled features, and an expression that spoke of power and danger. He was impeccably dressed, a stark contrast to the other men in the club.
Our eyes locked, and I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. His gaze was predatory, consuming my every movement, and for a moment, I faltered, missing a step in my perfect routine.
I continued my performance, but my mind raced. Who was this man? Why did his gaze unsettle me so much? I finished her routine to loud applause and dollar bills raining on me but it felt hollow. I quickly exited the stage, running to my dressing room.
I started wiping my makeup off almost immediately, anticipating going home to my comfy bed when I heard a knock on the door.
" Come in" I replied quickly putting on my robe.
The club's manager, Enzo walked in, a slimy look on his face
"Ruby, you have a request for a private dance," he said, his eyes fixed on my cleavage. There was something in his tone that made me wary.
"Who is it?" I asked, pulling the rope tighter around my body.
Enzo shifted uncomfortably. "A VIP. You can't refuse." He started with finality.
I quietly nodded, my heart sinking. I knew from his expression I had no choice, I couldn't refuse.
The private rooms were where the real money was made, and I couldn't afford to turn down a request, especially from a VIP.
I steeled myself, fixing my hair and makeup and walked to the designated room, my mind racing with thoughts of my mother's hospital bills.
The room was dimly lit, with plush red velvet chairs with a faint scent of expensive cologne and low-sensual music.
The VIP sat in the centre, his presence overwhelming the space as I walked in, my mask already in place.
I instantly recognized him as the man who was watching me on stage, He watched her approach, his gaze never wavering. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice low.
"Red" I replied, my tone guarded. I began to move, falling into the familiar rhythm of the dance, but my senses were heightened. Every step brought me closer to him, the tension between us almost tangible.
He leaned forward, his eyes darkening with desire. "No, I want your real name."
I ignored the question, focusing on my routine. But as I moved closer, I noticed his fast breaths and the entranced way he looked at me, making me more nervous.
He reached out, his cold fingers brushing against my arm. The contact was electric, sending an instant shiver down my spine. I froze on the spot, my chest beating rapidly.
I broke from a surge of anger coursing through me, there was a strict rule at the club: no touching.
"Don't touch me," I hissed, stepping back from his heat. But he didn't withdraw his hand. Instead, he stood wrapping his hand around my wrist, closing the distance between us.
"You're different," he murmured, his voice soft but insistent as he gazed down at me perplexed.
My pulse quickened, a mix of fear and fury bubbling inside her. "I said, don't touch me," I repeated, louder this time, pulling my wrist from his grip
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't move back.
"And I don't like being told what to do," he replied coolly, closing the little distance between us.
My hand flew up instinctively, as I slapped him hard across the face. The sharp sound echoed in the room, followed by a stunned silence.
His expression darkened, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"You have no idea who you're dealing with," he said, his voice low and menacing.
I felt a surge of adrenaline, my fear melting away. "And you have no right to treat me like this," she shot back.
"I'm not some toy you can play with."
I stormed out of the room, my heart pounding in my chest, I hurried to the dressing room, needing a moment to compose myself, changing out of my performance clothes into sweats and a hoodie.
My mind raced as I quickly grabbed my things from the dressing room. I shoved her costume into my bag and slung it over my shoulder, heading for the staff entrance.
As I reached the door, two burly men suddenly blocked my part.
" Wait," one of them said, " we need to search your bag".
" Why?" I asked, my nervousness showing, I had nothing to hide but alarm bells were already ringing in my head.
" Orders from above" he replied.
I sighed, handing over my bag to him watching with unease as they rummaged through my items.
Then one of them pulled out a small flash drive from the side pocket, my eyes widening in shock.
" That's not mine" I instantly stated, " I've never seen that before, I swear, I don't know how it got there".
They exchanged a secret look, their expressions hardening as they looked at me with suspicion.
" It's your bag" one of them muttered, closing in on me in the narrow corridor.
" Wait, This is a big misunderstanding" I tried to reason as they grabbed my arms with unyielding grips.
They grabbed away from the door, I tried to struggle but I could barely move between them.
They went down the stairs, opening a black door to the basement, cold stale air hitting my face.
I was still trying to convince them of my innocence when they tied me to a chair. Panic surged through me as I blindfolded myself.
" I swear, please don't know how that got there" I begged before gagging me.
I sat in silence for what felt like hours, my mind racing, worried I would miss visiting my mum in the hospital today.
Finally, I heard the sound of the door opening, the sound of footsteps slowly approaching, and a wave of strong cologne hitting me.
" Please I promise I didn't take that flash drive" I begged immediately the gag was pulled off.
" You have 10 seconds to tell me who you work for before I put a bullet in your head".
My body trembled with the threat, my brain swirling with danger.
" I didn't take anything I promised" My blood ran cold, my fingers shaking.
" You expect me to believe that'' A dark chuckle echoed through the hollow room." That flash drive contains very sensitive information that belongs to the mafia, now I'm ready to release you once you tell me the truth don't let your misplaced loyalty cause your death".
My breath hitched at the word 'Mafia', this was getting more dangerous by the minute.
" I'm not lying, someone must have planted it in my bag, you have to believe me".
He kept silent for a while before his cold hands grabbed the blindfold off my face, I blinked my eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room.
My breath caught in my throat as I saw the man from the private room standing in front of me, his expression unreadable and hard
" You!" I whispered in disdain "Is this your way of getting back at me for slapping you".
He studied me for a moment, his gaze piercing. " Red" he muttered under his breath in recognition.
He suddenly raised his gun, pointing between my eyes.
" You have 5 seconds, tell me who you're working for or
I'll blow your brains out".
" Please!..." I begged, my eyes widened, squirming in fear.
"5….4….3…."
The sound of the gun safety clicking echoed through the air. I closed my eyes tight, saying a prayer.
"2…1".
The sound of a gunshot pierced the air, a small puff of smoke emitting from the muzzle lingering in the air