Chapter 9 #2
My gaze flicks between the twins. Levi still looks amused while Koen stands with his arms crossed over his chest, tilting his head in a challenge.
I sigh and walk over to the wall, pressing the button to start up the music.
The familiar bassline kicks in, filling the room with a slow, pulsing rhythm.
Reluctantly, I turn back toward Koen, my body moving as if on autopilot, but this time, it’s of my own accord.
I hate the idea of dancing for them, but it’s not the first time I’ve done shit I hate to survive.
I reach for him, aiming to push him back onto the couch like I’ve done a hundred other times with a hundred different men. My hand gets close, but before I can make contact, Koen raises his palm and steps back, freezing me in place. “No.”
Levi takes that as his cue, sinking onto the velvet couch, his grin widening as he watches the tension coil inside me. “Me. Me, me! Take me!” I huff but move toward him, and he chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this.
Levi’s grin only widens as I straddle him and sink onto his lap, my hips moving to the slow rhythm of the music.
He smells divine—a zesty blend of citrus and green apple spiced with warm ginger.
“Damn, I’ve never had a lap dance.” He snickers, his voice vibrating through his chest, close enough that I can feel it under my hands.
“I always wanted to see the Chippendales, but this… this is way better.”
I roll my eyes, though a small smile ghosts across my lips despite myself. I’ve always liked him when I’ve seen him on television, unapologetic, never giving a fuck what anyone else thinks.
It’s a pity he’ll be one of the reasons I end up in jail tonight.
As I move against him, his hands slide to my waist, fingers pressing just enough to make their presence known. It’s almost automatic when I say loudly, “Look, don’t touch.”
The velvet curtain is ripped open, and when I turn to look, I see Carl’s eyes immediately locking on Levi’s hands at my hips.
“Hands off!” he barks, cutting through the music.
Levi immediately lifts his hands into the air in mock surrender. “Sorry!”
Carl’s expression doesn’t soften. “I don’t care if you’re a celebrity. Touch one of the girls again, and I’ll kick your ass so hard out of here, you won’t just be a star anymore… you’ll be seeing them.”
Levi’s grin is back with full force. “Yes, sir.”
His bulge grows unmistakably hard beneath me, and I smile to myself. “Chill, Carl. He’s not interested in what I’m offering, and honestly, I don’t mind him touching me.”
Right. I can’t lie.
“There’s no straight bone in this body, honey,” Levi agrees. Carl narrows his eyes for a moment, then huffs, stepping back and pulling the curtain closed again. The moment he’s gone, Levi bursts out laughing. “Holy shit, that was hot. I’m so into broody and bossy. Is he single?”
“I have no fucking clue,” I say, resuming the dance.
Levi’s hands come to rest casually on my thighs now, his fingers tracing small circles as I sway to the beat, letting my body move even as my mind races.
“So, why’d you alert him if you don’t mind me touching you?” Levi’s voice is light, almost teasing.
“Reflex,” I mutter, focusing on the rhythm beneath my skin, trying to lose myself in it.
If this is my last lap dance before I go to jail, I should make it good, right?
Levi’s fingers glide up to the curve of my waist, a gentle pressure, never pushing too far, not sexual but almost soothing.
“A reflex like the stealing?” Koen asks from where he hovers in my peripheral vision.
I close my eyes, desperate to block them both out, to let the music take over. “Yes.”
Levi chuckles lowly beneath me, his fingers now idly tracing the glitter dusted across my skin.
He follows a line from my collarbone to my right shoulder, but then his fingers pause over the burn scar hidden beneath the glitter, and I freeze.
He doesn’t say anything, just keeps tracing as if he’s feeling out the story instead of asking for it.
“Why are you stripping?” Koen’s voice pushes into the silence, dragging me back and making me open my eyes.
“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” The words come out flat, but they’re the truth.
“You really believe that?”
“Yes.”
Koen scoffs, and I can sense him stepping closer, his presence a shadow creeping over me. “You could steal your way through life easily if you just sold what you take.”
“I’m not selling anything.” I look up at him and frown. “Listen, I can give you your watch back, or you can call the police, but this game is getting boring.”
“You could do anything else.” Levi’s touch moves again, this time brushing lightly over the curve of my shoulder, fingers toying with the pink wig I wear while working. He gives a playful tug on a strand to make me look at him again. “You’re worth more than this.”
What is that supposed to mean? That strippers aren’t worth anything?
I know I’m not worth shit, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the girls here aren’t. I shake my head, that truth coming out in an angry breath. “I’m not worth more than this. I’m only good to be looked at or used.”
Levi shifts beneath me. “Used? Like in—”
“Fucked,” I snap, cutting him off, the words burning my throat as they escape.
Damn, this truth shit. It’s going to ruin me.
Levi’s hands stop me mid-motion. “Are you prostituting yourself?”
His tone is harsh, but it’s Koen’s voice that cuts through me as he asks at the same time, “Who made you believe that?”
I bite my lip, struggling against the truth that wants out. It wasn’t someone else. It was me. It’s always been me. My actions, my consequences.
So, I decide to answer Levi’s question and sidestep Koens.
“I’m not a prostitute.”
“You never wanted more than this?” Levi gives me an out while his hands stay firm on my hips, and his thumbs start to trace slow circles again. “A different life?”
I hesitate, the words barely making it past my lips. “A long time ago.”
“What changed?” Koen’s gaze sharpens, refusing to let me off that easily.
The chasm that opens up in my chest at his question makes me flinch.
I can’t seem to refuse to answer him altogether, so I stick to vague, to what’s safe.
“Everything.”
“Why are you even here?” Koen is so close now I can feel his warmth. “When you don’t want anything?”
“Because I have nowhere else to go.” A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it, the sound harsh even to my ears. I shift my weight, trying to put some space between us, but it’s useless. They’re everywhere. “What do you want? Leverage? Something to hold over me?”
“Yes.” His answer is sharp and steady as is the look in his eyes.
My pulse hammers against my ribs. Fuck.
I’m so fucking done with this. With them.
“Just call the fucking police,” I snap, my body tensing as if ready for a fight.
Koen doesn’t flinch, keeping his eyes locked on mine like he’s peeling away my layers one by one.
Fucking mentalists.
“What are you living for, Glitter?”
The truth slips out raw, unfiltered. “Nothing.”
It feels as if the word echoes back at me, and I see something shift in Koen’s expression, a crack in that cold exterior. “What does that mean? Do you want to die?”
I shrug, forcing myself to hold his gaze even though every part of me wants to look away. “It’s not that I want to die.” The fight leaves me as I exhale. “I’m just not keen on living.”
Levi’s hands on my hips tighten, his fingers pressing into my skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to still me. “How about you keep living in case something good happens? At least that’s what I do.”
My body stills beneath his touch, the warmth of his fingers so different from the cold feeling creeping up inside me.
I glance at him. His playful demeanor has faded, replaced with something more serious.
It almost makes me want to laugh—almost—but instead, I stare at him, wondering how I ended up here, tangled between these two men who seem to read me better than I can read myself.
This is fucking ridiculous. They are the Lane brothers, celebrities.
Here because I stole shit from them, not for a fucking therapy session.
I was afraid of them getting me locked in jail, but it seems, thanks to Koen’s little hypnosis act, the possibility of getting locked up in a mental health facility is getting higher by the second.
“What was your dream once?” Koen asks when I don’t say anything.
I take a breath, memories creeping in before I can block them out, and I hate Koen for the fact that he pulls me back to when I was happy, or at least the happiest I’ve ever been. “A villa in Tuscany. Driving a Mustang.”
Koen exchanges a glance with Levi, something unspoken passing between them. Levi shrugs casually and says, “We need you to steal something for us.”
I blink, trying to catch up. Steal? That is not where I thought this was going.
“If you give back the watch and help us with this…” Koen offers, “… we won’t call the police.”
“Fuck that.” I pull back, but Levi’s hands tighten on my hips, keeping me from bolting from his lap. “Call the police. You can’t fucking blackmail me.”
“We’re not blackmailing you,” Levi promises, but Koen’s smirk sharpens.
“You know who we are, right?”
“Of course I do. Everybody does.”
“Then you know we could buy you that villa and Mustang,” Levi says smoothly. “And give you enough to live happily ever after in Italy.”
The promises swirl in my mind, dangerous and glittering like broken glass.
I don’t trust them. But God, some part of me wants to.
I could start over.
I have nothing left here. Annabelle is off to a better life, and I fucked things up with my favorite club. And let’s be honest, I can’t strip forever. I’m so tired of this life. But as quickly as it comes, it’s gone, extinguished by the weight of reality.
What would I even do there alone?
I snort, shaking my head. “What could possibly be so important for you to offer me all that?”
“We’ll tell you…” Koen says as he studies me. “When you’ve proven you’re good enough to help.”
I raise a brow as tension coils through my body. “So, what? I have to pass some kind of test first?”
The twins share another glance, and then Levi grins. “Good idea.” His fingers press lightly into my hips as he lifts me off his lap and stands. “You know about our building?”
“The Lane Building?” I scoff.
It’s practically a Vegas landmark, right on the Strip with its black exterior and neon blue lights that demand attention, even amidst the towering five-star hotels flanking it.
People come from all over the world to see it, where they can see the magic shows and visit the magic museum all in one stop.
Before they took their break after their uncle died three months ago, tourists lined up daily for the chance to see the show, and the museum houses everything from Houdini’s old props to custom-made, high-tech illusions created by the Lane family themselves.
It’s almost untouchable.
“Exactly,” Levi grins. “Be there tomorrow at two p.m.”
“Bring the watch. And come sober,” Koen adds, giving me a look that lets me know he’s fully aware I’m not right now.
“And what if I don’t?” I ask, raising my chin.
I’m a lot, but not a fucking pushover.
Koen ignores that as he asks flatly, “You’ll come, right?”
“Yes.” Once more, the truth slips out of my mouth before I can stop it.
Goddammit.
I have no idea why I’m intrigued, but fuck it, I am.
They could ruin me or worse. Why does the idea of a villa in Tuscany, of leaving this all behind, make my chest ache like I might cry?
The thought claws at the back of my mind as I watch Levi’s grin widen.
“You’re allowed to leave now.” Koen sits on the couch and leans back, satisfied. “See you tomorrow, Little Thief.”
Little Thief?