Chapter 1
Chapter one
Selene
I shouldn’t have indulged him. No matter how good it felt, how good he felt inside me…or how electric kissing him felt. I broke my one rule that has kept me safe since I fled Mexico to Manhattan: Never touch the clients.
But I didn’t just touch him, I slept with him. Till morning. And when I woke up, he wasn’t there. In his stead, a huge tip lay invitingly. I took it.
Thankfully, Jan didn’t hand me a query for not completing my shift on the floor last night. I feel like he—Mr. King—had something to do with it.
Gosh.
It was supposed to be a dance session for only half an hour, but how it translated to three rounds of sex and lying in each other’s arms till morning, I still can’t explain.
I am the kind of person who would do anything to hurt a man’s stupid ego at any chance.
The guy was obviously full of himself and probably sees women as nothing but objects of pleasure…
Yet, I submitted instantly, and that’s the first reason I regret what happened.
The second is his influence. I still don’t know who he is, but the guy is obviously wealthy…influential. What if he finds out about me?
Ugh. My reflection stares back at me through the mirror as I throw my jet black strands into a ponytail. I need to get my mind off him and do something that actually matters. Work.
I should double my hustle starting tonight.
I’ll do extra shifts, smile wider, and flirt harder.
I need the money as soon as possible so I can be done with this degrading job and get those crazy loan sharks off my neck.
I’ve already missed the due date twice now.
The third time, I may as well be rendered homeless and maybe even beaten up. Or worse.
I pick up the makeup brush as another wave of regret creeps into my chest. My life wasn’t supposed to play out like this.
Back in Mexico, I had a decent roof over my head, good food, and a clean bed that I didn’t share with cockroaches in a tiny room. Sure, my father’s words could skin flesh from bone, but I wasn’t struggling. I had a brother who cared about me.
But then I woke up one night to bloody screams and saw my sexist father lying lifeless in his own pool of blood.
The powder blends into my olive-tan skin as I dab my face. My dark brown eyes are dull, but they look a bit better when I force a smile. High cheekbones, full lips, and almond-shaped eyes highlight the light makeup I wear. The thin piece of blue lingerie I wear accentuates my curvy body.
Shoving other thoughts out of my head, I walk back to the stage, my heels clicking behind me.
I add extra sway to my dance, flirt to my actions, and indeed, it earns me a couple more dollar bills.
Hours later, I’m done and go back inside the stripper’s room.
I remit the cash from the dance floor to Jan, and he pays me my percent with a smug expression, which is a decent sum. Decent but not fair.
Changing into a t-shirt and a pair of joggers, I grab my duffel bag and slip out the back exit of the club. My boots crunch on gravel as I cut through the barely lit alleyway. It’s dangerous, but it’s the shortest route home. I’m not wasting money on taxis.
Cold wind bites at my exposed arm, but I ignore it. I’m thinking about how many shifts I still have to do to pay the loan sharks when I hear multiple footsteps behind me. Without hesitation, I turn around, fingers curling protectively around my bag, and I hear his voice.
“Selene.”
My feet stop cold. Hatred and anger collide in my bones as Ramirez steps out of the shadows like a lord of the night. He’s flanked by two bigger men hulking over him like bodyguards.
Shit. How did he find me?
My first instinct is to run, but when he lifts his shirt to show me the gun tucked in the waistband of his pants, I stay rooted in my spot. Ramirez is crazy; he wouldn’t kill me, but he would have no problem shooting me.
“Well…well. I must applaud you,” he starts in a cold voice. “You faked your own death and even managed to hide from me for six good months.” His receding hairline catches the dim light of the pole, accentuating the gleam of the ponytail packed at the base of his neck.
“But to think I would find you here…stripping,” he grumbles and shakes his head in disgust, pointing to the club. “That wasn’t smart of you. And your cover name…Ariel Smith, that’s not very—”
“What do you want?” I grit, tightening my fist against my bag. I know what he wants. There’s only one thing that can get him on my tail.
“Come on now, I think you know already, Princesa (Princess).” Disgust runs through me as I feel his eyes rake over me like he’s checking a prize at an auction. “I’m here to take my wife home.”
My stomach tightens. This bastard has made me hate that word so much that I feel sick when I hear it.
“I’m not your wife,” I snap, then take a step back, regretting taking this empty route.
He clicks his tongue as if to say, ‘Don’t you dare.
’ “Instead of whoring yourself out in another man’s club, why don’t you fulfill the promise your father made to me?
” His words snap something inside me…like they do every time.
“Be my whore. You’re strong, smart…but you’re nothing without a man to keep you in line. ”
His shoes echo until he stops before me, his thumb reaching out to brush my cheek. I jerk my head away from him, and he scowls. “You and your father owe me. And now it’s time to pay your debt.”
Holding his gaze, I lean forward, our faces barely inches apart. “I’d rather burn in hell.”
I spit in his face and turn, my legs hot as I sprint down the alley. It all happens so fast. The two men flank my sides and shove me to the floor. A heavy grunt slips past my lips as I hear Ramirez’s rapid steps. The men lift me, and before I know it, his hand collides with my cheek.
I feel blood in my mouth, but I don’t get the chance to spit at him when someone calls out from the dark.
“Leave the girl alone.”
The interrupting voice sounds awfully familiar, but my brain doesn’t register its owner.
His heavy footsteps echo loudly into the alleyway. Instantly, I perceive cedarwood, and I already know who it is. What a timely intrusion.
His tailored coat flares as he steps into view, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, even though it’s nighttime. Something about him is different. His aura isn’t kingly anymore. It’s now devilish. When he reaches us, Ramirez falters.
He’s scared of him. Good.
“Is there a reason you’re harassing a pretty young woman at such an ungodly place and time?” He sounds almost bored but dangerous.
Ramirez turns, eyes narrowing and doing his best to maintain composure. “This ain’t your business, senor. Go back inside your club and sit your rich ass down.”
My heart double flips and begins thudding wildly. His club? The occurrences of last night come rushing back before my eyes in a blur.
So this is the Cortez Donatelli? I mean, I’ve heard mentions of him here in New York, but it seems I’ve been in survival mode too long to have at least browsed what he looks like.
Mr. Devil tilts his head, then flicks his gaze to me. “How much does she owe you?”
Ramirez barks a laugh. “She’s not for sale. She’s mine by promise, and we’re going back to Mexico. You should go back home, too.”
That’s when the stupidest idea hits me with such force that I can barely resist. I suddenly lash out, landing two swift kicks between the legs of both guards holding me.
Two loud groans follow my attacks as I scramble away from them and scurry beside Cortez.
The two guys remain hunched over, holding their crotches where I’d kicked them, clearly in pain.
My heart is in my throat at what I’m about to do, but I don’t have a choice.
I just hope he’s willing to play along. “Ramirez, I’ve told you that the promise my family made to you means nothing.
Look,” I hold up my middle finger, flaunting my mother’s sapphire ring, “I’m engaged to him.
” I nod up at the man who doesn’t even know my name. “This is my fiancé.”
Cortez’s head turns slightly toward me, but his expression remains unreadable.
Ramirez snarls. “?Qué carajo? (What the hell?)”
He signals his men, and they reach for their weapons, but Cortez Donatelli is faster.
He draws a gun from the inner pocket of his jacket and, with just a single shot, one of Ramirez’s men crumples. Angling his arm, he shoots at Ramirez’s gun, and it clatters to the ground.
Ramirez curses, signals to his remaining guy, and they flee like cowards down the alley.
“This isn’t over! You hear me, Donatelli!” Ramirez yells when they’re at the other end.
There’s no time to catch my breath when Cortez whirls on me, taking his glasses off so I can see the cold fury in his eyes. “Are you insane?”
Oh boy…
“I...I didn’t know what else to do.” My saliva is suddenly thick as I take a step away from him. “I panicked. I didn’t even know who you were until now. I-I just...”
His eyes are fixated on me. Averting my gaze, I release a deep breath and gesture so he sees I meant no harm. “I’m sorry, okay? But you saw he wanted to take me and I just needed a quick esca—”
He cuts me off. “Name.”
“What?”
“Your name,” his jaw ticks.
“Ariel Smith,” I hesitate and stupidly wait for a reaction. There’s nothing in his expression except anger. Before I can continue, his words strike me in my chest.
“You’re fired.”
I blink, taken aback. “What?”
His jaw clench is accompanied by a tight fist this time. “I don’t like to repeat myself.”
Without another word, he walks away, and I’m left wondering, irritation replacing any prior emotions. This guy is a serious asshole.