Chapter 16
The line outside seemed even longer than it had been yesterday at the grand opening. Despite the thousands of feet that had trampled across it the night before, the carpet still had that brand-new feel.
The girls were all working the poles, while I was stuck serving in the regular section. I slid into an empty booth, counting the few tips some customers had left on my tray. I recognized a few familiar faces, and they seemed relieved that, despite the club's new ownership, I was still around.
I couldn't shake the guilt gnawing at me, knowing that nearly all twenty girls had been ripped off.
And it was all Cloney's fault. I'd been calling him nonstop since yesterday, but he hadn't answered, nor had he returned my calls.
He was dodging responsibility, trying to shirk the accountability he knew was his.
He had sold us out, sold the business, and in the process, swept all the girls out with it.
"Can I get some help by the VIP section?
It's packed," one of the new girls complained.
Despite us all sharing the same dressing room, I kept to my own corner with my little locker.
Back when Cloney ran the club, we felt like a family.
Now, I felt nothing but discomfort and the constant need to watch my back—especially around Ethan.
He hadn't made any moves on me yet, but that didn't mean I trusted him. I'd seen him a few times around the club, his suit hanging awkwardly from his rose thorn frame as he strutted around like he'd built the place brick by brick.
"How much do you make for the boss?" the girl asked, hopping into the booth with me. My money wasn't for the boss, but I didn't bother explaining that to her.
"A few ones and a couple hundreds," I replied, shrugging.
I still dressed the way I always had, while the newer girls had gone for a much more exotic look.
The servers wore tiny plaid shirts that didn't quite fit their frames, paired with shorts that had strings dangling from the hems. They wore heels that made their legs stretch for miles.
Meanwhile, I stuck with my linen skirt and bra top—something that made me feel like a Hawaiian princess. It worked for me.
"And you?" I asked, nodding toward her tray.
"I've already brought in a decent amount," she said, still holding her tray as she glanced around nervously, probably on the lookout for Ethan.
If he saw any of the girls standing around taking a breather, he'd start barking orders.
He barks for everything. "It's around a thousand.
The boss isn't happy, though. He says I need to rake in more. "
I rolled my eyes. "You can't force these people to give money.
They'll tip what they want and what they can afford.
" Sure, most of the vampires who came here were loaded, but we couldn't act like entitled humans and demand cash.
That's bad for business. The key was great customer service and hoping for the best.
"Well, VIP looks promising," she muttered, glancing toward the section. "But those couple hundreds and ones aren't going to satisfy him."
Too bad I wasn't here to satisfy him—I was here to satisfy myself.
I glanced up toward the VIP section, but I couldn't make out much.
All I could see were red eyes peering down, and those could belong to anyone—likely Jager and Wade.
My eyes still hadn't adjusted to the purple and black theme of the club, and probably never would.
"Well, I'll see what I can do," I said with a sigh. "But Ethan needs to eat actual food. The blood isn't doing it for him, and he needs to fill out that damn suit."
The new girl and I crossed the packed dance floor and made our way over to the bar. I hadn't fully introduced myself to the bartender yet, but he seemed outgoing and professional. He didn't touch the wine or liquor he served, opting instead to sip on water.
With practiced ease, he slid two trays filled with blood wine and shots in our direction. The new girl and I pushed our empty trays toward him. He looked the part of a bartender, wearing a white shirt under a vest with jeans.
He had tattoos, though I wasn't sure what they were. They pressed through the fabric of his translucent shirt, tracing the lines of his beef lean frame.
"Thanks," I said, grabbing the tray. He smiled, nodding along to the beat the DJ was spinning. Just as we walked off, another customer approached the bar. We held our trays high above our heads, like we were rescuing a kitten from drowning in a flood of people.
"I heard the casino's empty tonight—everyone's here," the new girl commented.
"Really?"
"Yeah, this place has everything. They even set up a little gambling table for those with a gambler's heart. They're catering to all kinds of desires."
"Except for humans," I muttered, less than impressed. I wasn't fully familiar with everything this club had to offer. My routine was simple: walk from the bar to the VIP section and back.
I didn't know why I was scanning the room for Wade and Jager. They always had cash to burn on me, and I wasn't about to complain. I just needed to realize how much I was really worth.
The booth we'd shared yesterday was now occupied by a group of elite vampires—dead personalities with nothing behind their eyes. They looked like the type who kept humans locked away in their basements, feeding on them in private.
"Who ordered the blood wine and shots?" I called out.
They smirked in response.
"Is it deep pink or pale pink?" one of the guys in the middle of the group asked, his tone smug.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand." I smiled, feigning confusion.
"Your pussy," he said, smirking. "You're so pale, but is it roast beef pink or ChapStick pink?"
I smirked back, not missing a beat. "It's your mother's pink, how about that?"
The group gasped, their reactions a mix of shock and low groans.
"What are you doing?" the new girl whispered, her voice tense. "The boss will fire us! I need this job, so get it together."
I rolled my eyes, unfazed.
"I don't know why whores like you think you can act like that," the guy snapped.
"We're sorry," the new girl quickly apologized, giving me a sharp 'get it together' look as if we were suddenly on the same team. "She's just in a bad mood."
I lined up the blood wine, while she laid out the shots.
"You want to be tipped?" the same guy asked, clearly the loudest and likely the richest of the group.
He had that air about him—someone who grew up with privilege, probably from a family with a stable of white horses and a younger sister who never heard "no.
" His parents likely owned a huge company.
Born rich, spoiled rotten. His friends probably weren't far off, but from the way they followed his lead, it was clear he was in charge.
"Yes," the new girl replied quickly, gagging to please.
"What about you, ChapStick?" he sickly blustered, turning his attention back to me.
The new girl tilted her head, silently urging me to respond. I eventually gave in with a simple, "Yeah."
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" he shouted, and the rest of his friends cheered him on, feeding off his energy.
He was the type who made bold claims only when surrounded by his entourage.
From the looks of it, he couldn't stand on his own.
I silently wished those two mysterious vampire women were here—anything to avoid dealing with these rich boys playing grown-up in their diapers.
"You, horse face," he growled at the new girl. His insult lacked any real bite, especially since he resembled a horse himself. The girl flushed with embarrassment at the crude nickname, while I silently appreciated that at least mine—ChapStick—wasn't as degrading.
"Unbutton that top and show us those nipples, baby," he demanded, his voice dripping with entitlement.
The girl, clearly eager to comply, moved her hand to her chest, ready to unbutton her shirt. Before she could, I grabbed her hand, stopping her. She sneered at me, annoyed. "What are you doing?" she hissed.
"I should be asking you the same thing," I replied firmly. "You don't have to do this."
She shot me a confused look. "We're just showing them our tits. It's no big deal."
Despite everything, I felt a pang of guilt.
Yes, I had let two women make me squirt for a tip, but this felt different.
Those women had an air of power and mystery that made me want to give in to them.
But these boys? They were disgusting, their eyes gleaming with the kind of entitlement that made my stomach turn.
I knew if she gave in, they'd only exploit her, treating her like an object for their amusement.
I couldn't understand how "we" and "our" slipped into her sentence.
There was no "we" among us, and I was completely fine with that.
What I wouldn't do is stand by and watch these privileged people take advantage of us.
At the end of the day, we were all human, trapped in the same cage and abused by these filthy creatures—not all of them, but most.
"Don't," I demanded, glaring at the elites. They seemed to think that because they were in the VIP section, we should bow to them. But I had already had two women kneel to pleasure me, and I was pretty sure they were ten times richer than these leeches.
"But the tip goes to the boss," she whispered, fumbling with the knot of her blouse.
That was another thing—I didn't like that she was about to strip for a tip that technically wasn't even hers but was meant for a greedy boss.
Cloney wasn't any better, but at least he didn't force us into such degrading situations.
We girls were the ones who offered "extra" services, not because we had to, but because we chose to.
"You want to do this?" I asked her.
She nodded; her determination irresolute.
"Then put the money on the table," I commanded.
They chuckled. "You think we're some poor vampires who won't pay?"
"I'm not stripping. She is."
"And why not?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Because I don't want to. We're not at the end of the world yet, where you can force me to do things I don't like."
He downed a shot, followed by a quick sip to soothe his fiery tongue. "Yet, ChapStick. Alright then, horse face, take off your clothes."
I quickly stepped in front of her, blocking her from flashing her breasts. "Money on the table," I growled.
"Alright, ChapStick," he grumbled, struggling to dig into his jeans pocket.
I smirked, a hint of arrogance in my tone.
"What, are you too broke?" VIP wasn't cheap.
It wasn't like the Cloney days—just three days ago—when entry to VIP was free, and the only cost was the price of liquor.
The same drink downstairs could cost twenty bucks, but by the time a server made it up those stairs, it was two hundred.
"When the world ends, and we don't have to hire you fucking bitches, call it human, I'll buy you and drain your blood. And when that's done, I'll rip your chest open and lick the remnants of your blood."
"Are you trying to scare me? Because, let me tell you, my heart hasn't even skipped a beat. Just put the money on the table," I growled.
He sneered as he rummaged through his pocket, taking what felt like an eternity. Finally, he pulled out a crumpled wad of cash. "You couldn't find better bills for a 'rich' vamp?" I challenged.
"I'm not wasting my crisp cash on sluts like you."
"The last time I checked, your mother was the one slutting around to have you, because it doesn't look like you had a father, given that nasty attitude of yours."
The table erupted in laughter, but when they saw their leader fuming, they quickly silenced, all eyes narrowing on me. "You can show it if you want," I said to the girl.
She stepped up to the table and ripped her shirt open, their mouths agape with excitement. I rolled my eyes; they looked like a bunch of nerds who'd only ever seen their mothers' breasts and vaginas. From their appearance, they seemed like extremely young vampires. I despised them.
They reached out and roughly tugged at her nipples, causing her to tumble forward onto the table and spill the shots and blood wine. I smirked, silently applauding her misfortune. Then I reached forward to help her up.
"Clumsy," he growled.
"No. You pulled her nipples too roughly, skunk face," I shot back.
"Well, she spilled drinks, so she can't get a tip," he shrugged. "This is to buy back my table some drinks."
"No!" I growled, quickly snatching the money from the table. He stood up, his height towering over me, but my heart didn't skip a beat. "If you want to say something, say it to the boss."
"No, they can keep the money," the girl said, visibly frightened of the boss. She had just started working here two days ago, and she was terrified of Ethan. If she felt this way after two days, I could only imagine how she'd feel after a lifetime. She'd probably have nightmares.
"You showed your pride for that," I sneered.
"Pride?" The guy laughed derisively. "Once you decided to work here, all pride is gone."
"Well, if your greedy kind wasn't sucking everything from our world, we wouldn't be here wanting to spit in your goddamn face."
"Beat it," he growled, realizing he was losing the argument. "We're going to the boss. And send someone to clean this up!"
"Clean it yourself; you made the mess, you fucking bad-breed vamp."
I took the girl to Ethan's office. He was there, counting money, with a few girls around him. One was giving him a shoulder massage, while another was bobbing her head under the table.
"What happened to you?" he asked calmly, motioning to her bloodied clothes and skin. She was soaked from head to toe.
"Some kids in the VIP section—"
"I don't want to hear it. How much money did you make?" he asked flatly. She began to count, and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. I took the money from her hand; it, too, was stained with blood.
"You better wash that money before it comes to my table."
I rolled my eyes and marched up to his desk. "Count it yourself, pussy. Let's go," I grumbled, pulling her toward the bathroom.
"I'm going to fucking kill you when I get the chance," he growled.
"I'll be waiting!"