CHAPTER 9
Nirah
“THE CLUB’S PACKED, don’t you think?” London asked as we headed to our tables next to each other.
“I wonder why,” I mused, making her chuckle.
“I’m sure they heard about your magical little body,” she teased, and I rolled my eyes.
“Or about the freakishly flexible girl.”
“Freakishly?” she narrowed her eyes at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Now, that’s just cold,” she whispered as we separated to serve our tables.
After my altercation with Sylvester last night, I put on a brave face and acted normal as Jordan drove me home. Thankfully, he didn’t suspect anything.
I handed the three guys their drinks, and Giovanni took a sip before stopping me.
“ Bella , you mind if I have a seat at the bar?” he asked, and I looked over.
“Sure,” I nodded. “Come on.”
Standing behind the bar, I placed my hands down on the countertop in front of him.
“Please, don’t tell me you’re one of those men who fall in love and become extremely clingy.”
He smiled. “I’m one of those men who fall in love and want to spend every waking moment with her.”
“So…” I trailed off. “Clingy?” I smiled, and he chuckled. He gestured his drink toward me—in confirmation—and took a sip. “You’re cute, Gio.”
My smile immediately faded as Antonio walked up to the bar with the blonde woman I saw him with last night.
He pulled the bar stool out for her—next to Giovanni—and she sat down, thanking him. He sat down beside her, and in response, my heart hammered in uncertainty.
“Excuse me,” I smiled at Giovanni, who simply nodded, waving me off. Why does the club have to be so full tonight?
With a deep breath in, I forced my most polite smile. “What can I get you?” I asked, shifting my eyes between them, and Antonio nodded toward the woman.
“Look at you being a gentleman,” she teased. “I’ll have a dirty martini,” she finally answered me.
I shifted my attention over to Antonio. His answer was surprisingly vague. Bourbon . “Bourbon.”
“Do you ever order anything other than Bourbon?” I finally questioned, tossing the rag over my shoulder, and he gave his head a slight shake. “Why?” The simple word made me sound way more interested than I actually was.
“I’m a man who knows what he likes,” he lowered his tone, and heat rushed up my neck. I slipped him a casual hum as I got to making their drinks.
“Hey, bella ?” Giovanni grabbed my attention, and I turned to face him. “I gotta go,” he almost apologetically said, looking down at his cell phone. “I’m sorry, I’ll miss your performance.”
“Gio, it’s okay,” I assured him. “You’ve watched every single one of my performances. Missing one won’t be the end of the world.”
“It will be the end of my world,” he heavily sighed, and I chuckled
“Go. It’s okay.”
“Can I leave a tip?”
“No,” I waved him off. “You don’t even know if tonight’s performance will be good,” I shook my head.
“Like you said,” he got up, digging into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “I’ve watched every single one of your performances, and I know you never disappoint.”
I thanked him, and he leaned forward, kissing my cheek before tossing a few hundreds on the countertop and leaving before I could protest.
I smiled, shaking my head at him as I gathered the notes before slipping them into my back pocket.
“You’re a dancer?”
My head snapped to the blonde Antonio came with, and I simply nodded. I turned until she spoke again. “Yeah, I can tell,” she muttered under her breath.
I faced her with confusion. “Excuse me?”
“I was just saying that I can tell you’re a dancer,” she replied, feigning innocence. Her eyes held a challenge, but it was her lucky night. The club was too packed for me to waste my time on her. Though, it took everything inside of me not to say anything.
I got to finishing up their drinks, placing both down in front of them.
I turned to another customer, taking her order. After going through a million orders behind the bar, I walked over to one of my tables when some guy called me over. We talked, and as I turned to leave, someone bumped into me, spilling their drink all over my chest.
“What the fuck!” I groaned, looking down at my shirt then up at him.
“Sorry,” he grinned—clearly not sorry—as his eyes lingered on my chest. I pulled my wet shirt over my head and I wiped the sticky alcohol off of my chest.
Walking behind the bar, I crouched down, grabbing an extra shirt.
“When did this become a whore house?” London asked and I stood up with both shirts in my hand.
“The minute you walked in,” I snapped back and we both chuckled. “Some guy walked into me,” I explained.
“Probably because his eyes were where they weren’t supposed to be,” she grabbed my ass, passing by me.
“Hilarious!” I called out to her and she blew me a kiss.
“Can I get a refill?”
I stopped walking as the blonde spoke up. With a deep breath in, I turned and she pulled her burgundy lips into a tight grin, holding up the empty glass.
“Sure,” I forced a smile. I grabbed her glass, making her a new drink that I almost slammed onto the counter. She seriously couldn’t wait until I changed my shirt?
“Thanks,” she winked, looking at my neck, then tilted her head to the side with false concern. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” I gritted out as I grabbed both shirts, heading to my dressing room.
I slammed the door shut behind me and threw my ruined shirt onto the couch. I quickly slipped on my spare shirt and straightened it out. Some alcohol had splashed onto my ends so I grabbed a towel to dry them too.
“What happened?”
The rough voice startled me and I subtly jolted, turning around. “You’re not supposed to be back here,” I said, dropping the towel to tuck my shirt into my skirt.
“What happened, Nirah?” Antonio repeated himself, his voice laced with growing frustration.
“What do you think? Sylvester happened,” I irritably shot back as I headed for the door but he grabbed my arm, stopping me.
“What did he do?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I shook my head, pulling out of his hold and made my way back to the bar. His little bar friend wasn’t there. She must have realized how much of a pain in the ass he was.
I served some customers behind the bar and when my eyes trailed around the club, my stomach twisted into a knot of anxiety. Antonio seemed to be in deep conversation with Marco at my table.
I brushed off the uneasiness in my belly as I focused on making the drinks. Marco eventually approached me, pulling me aside. “Baby, I need you to head to the back. You’ve been booked for a private session,” he said, making me sigh
“Marco, I’m sorry, but if it’s Antonio—”
“It’s not,” he shook his head.
With a gentle squeeze to my arm, he excused himself and after serving my last few customers, I headed back to my dressing room. I got changed, touched up my makeup and made my way to the private room.
My pulse throbbed in my neck as I entered the dim lit room. He was pacing up and down and when I closed the door behind myself, his head snapped up in my direction. Naturally, he grinned.
I’ve seen him with Giovanni a couple times, but that was it. “Hi gorgeous,” he smirked, approaching the sofa. He sat down, spreading his legs and I walked over.
“Nirah,” I corrected him with a smile, extending my hand and he gently took it, kissing the back of my hand.
“Leo,” he introduced himself as his lustful gaze stared me down.
I turned my back on him, swaying my hips as I strutted toward the pole, and got ready to perform. My heart raced but I tried my best to focus and give him a show. My heart dropped when he emptied some white powder onto the table before lowering his head, sniffing it up. Oh, fuck.
He groaned, throwing his head back and my stomach churned. When they’re on any sort of substance there’s no telling how they’d act or what they’d do.
I fought my fear, giving my best performance. After my dance, he waved me over and I smiled, approaching him.
“Have some,” he gestured toward the table and I shook my head.
“I can’t. I’m working,” I politely declined.
“Oh, come on,” he insisted.
He grabbed my hand, pulling me onto his lap and my heart leaped in my chest. He pressed his nose to my arm as he inhaled my scent and I shuddered.
“Take this off,” he instructed, nodding toward my top.
“But you only wanted a dance,” I reluctantly said, getting up but he pulled me back down.
He whipped out some cash, dropping in my lap. “Just a peak,” he pleaded.
“I can’t do that,” I shook my head, finally getting up and with a sigh of disapproval, he got up as well. I absolutely can, but with the amount of cocaine up his nose, I’d rather not risk it.
I grabbed my coat but he snatched it out of my hand, tossing it back on the table.
The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Take your top off.”
I swallowed a lump of fear down my throat and he grabbed my wrist with forced. “ Now .”
I politely smiled, nodding my head. Goosebumps rose on my skin as I lifted my hands to my bra. With trembling fingers, I unclipped the strap behind my back.
Satisfaction sparked in his eyes.
I lifted my hands to the straps on my shoulders, fighting the nausea that crawled up my throat.
Hesitantly, I pulled the straps down my arms.
I froze, hearing the door handle.
Our heads snapped toward the door and it opened. Antonio .
“This is a private session,” Leo irritably growled and I immediately fastened my bra. “So get out.”
“Not with my girl it’s not,” Antonio slightly shook his head, approaching us. “Go to your dressing room,” he said to me and I didn’t waste a second.
I stepped forward but Leo grabbed my wrist and my stomach dropped.
Within the blink of an eye, Antonio had his hand around Leo’s throat—squeezing so hard his knuckles turned white.
Leo’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head and the vein in his forehead protruded dangerously.
I left the room immediately, not daring to stay in that room any longer.
I entered my dressing room, clutching my throat. The walls were closing in on me again. I reached for my neck—to tug the object suffocating me—but there was nothing.