Chapter 4
Chapter four
It’s irrational, I know, but I don’t give a fuck
Theo
“Couldn’t we meet this guy at our place instead?
” I grumble to Harrison, who follows a pretty half-naked blonde to the back of the club and over to a private VIP booth.
I swipe a drink off of the tray of another passing girl on my way over and down it like a fish to water.
Harris looks back at me and rolls his eyes.
“Yes, we need this deal to go smoothly, so don’t fuck it up, O.
Let me do the talking, and you can just sit back and enjoy the show.
” He nods his head over to the stage where a girl spins on a pole and grins.
He has a point. Might as well get something out of this.
We take our seats and I finally take a second to take in the room as a whole.
Club X is a nice club on the inside. The atmosphere is dark and shadowy, but the stage lights up with women all in bright colors and cute outfits.
It draws your attention to them and off the shady deals happening all around the rest of the room.
This place is the central hub for all the underground dealings in this city, using the women as distractions for anyone who comes here just for the show and not to do business.
I have to hand it to X and his men; they have built an empire here, and this just so happens to be the best strip club in town.
I’ve heard the women here are top-notch.
I haven’t been here myself, but the rumors are he has a dancer that does a special show.
The kind that sick, depraved little boys like me go crazy for.
I wonder if that’s why this place is packed tonight.
After I’ve made a pass over with my eyes, I notice the half-naked blonde is still standing in front of our table, making me quirk an eyebrow at her.
She bats her thick fake lashes towards me but isn’t looking me in the eye.
They never do. “The boss said to keep you comfy tonight. Can I get you anything?” she attempts to purr out as she runs her finger down my arm, and I sneer at her.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growl, making her jump back at the venom in my voice, almost tripping over her six-inch hooker heels.
She looks over at me with wide eyes and holds her hand to her chest. I didn’t touch her, but she is acting like I barked at her or something.
Harris places a hand on my chest, and I calm somewhat, still glaring at the woman.
“Sweetheart, go get a bottle of whiskey and two glasses,” Harris tells the woman but keeps his eyes on me.
“Calm down, brother. We can’t have you losing your shit before we close this deal with X.
” I simply nod my head but look away. I don’t even want to be here.
I’m not the face man; I’m the behind-the-scenes one.
“I hate when they think they can touch me without my permission.” I glare out at the room again, but I hear Harris whisper words.
“I know.” I keep my eyes pinned to the stage, watching a woman with dyed green hair pull herself up on the pole and do some crazy flip that makes her look like she is about to land on her head, but she catches herself at the last second. Impressive.
A few minutes go by, but instead of the girl bringing back our drinks, it’s a man.
He is tall and bulky, wearing a three-piece dark gray suit with a light gray handkerchief sticking out of his pocket.
He looks to be around his mid-twenties, similar to us.
He has tan skin and dark green eyes with a small scar above his right eye and holds himself with all the confidence only an Alpha can possess.
Must be nice to have only a small scar, barely noticeable.
Unlike mine. That bitter annoyance starts to build under my skin as memories begin to surface, but I slam those fuckers back into their box.
Instead, I stare at the new arrival with a look of boredom until he finally speaks.
“Gentlemen, you must be Harrison and Theo.” He outstretches his hand but I just stare at it.
“Sorry, let me introduce myself. You may call me X.” Harris kicks me under the table, and I shrug.
What? He’s the one who told me not to talk.
Harris takes X’s hand and shakes, but X keeps his eyes on me.
Assessing. I doubt he will find anything in my perfected emotionless expression, but then he grins as the lights start to dim and a single spotlight turns on.
Somewhere a fog machine kicks on, adding a dense cloud of smoke to the floor of the stage, giving it a sinister feel.
X’s deep voice sounds next, and I can hear the grin in his tone.
He is excited about something, and that puts me on edge.
“I think you’ll enjoy this show, boys.” He tells the two of us but continues to look at me with a smirk, tipping his lips up.
“I must go make this special introduction first. I will be right back to start our meeting.” He gives a small bow.
“Excuse me.” Then he is walking away and over to the corner of the room, stepping up next to the DJ.
X takes the mic before heading for center stage.
“What is this guy playing at? He didn’t introduce any of the other girls.” I ask suspiciously, but Harris just shrugs, keeping his eyes trained on the stage. Watching X’s every move. Always observing.
Could this be a trick? A distraction of some sort?
“No idea, but I heard rumors of a girl that does a special show once a week or something. Maybe this is it. It seems a bit more packed than a normal club night. Wouldn’t you say?” He finally responds, but then X is speaking.
"Gentlemen and naughty, naughty boys, do I have a treat for you tonight? Our very own Grim Reaper is in the house, and she wants to play.” He smiles before letting out a giddy laugh.
I instantly sit up straighter. I’ve heard of this show, but I’ve never had the chance to see it.
“Now for the ones who are not aware, this is a special kind of show. You see, our little Grim Reaper only performs once a week, and she chose tonight to give you all a treat. But this is not your typical sweet little striptease. Oh no.” X shakes his head as he chuckles.
“Grim gets to play with you.” He adds with another devious smile.
I’m on the edge of my seat now, but this bastard is prolonging the suspense.
Fucking alphahole. “Because this is a special show and harm may or may not come to you, this will also be a bidding war. You get the stage show and a private room for an hour.” He wags his eyebrows on the words "private room," making it clear what he means. “If you last that long with the reaper.” X adds after a second, and now I’m really intrigued.
“Now who wants to see what they are bidding on?” The entire room howls with excitement at seeing another half-naked woman, but I was not expecting what walks out on stage a second later.
My jaw practically hits the table at the sight of the woman who graces the stage.
She’s a curvy thing with black leather that wraps around her body, covering all the sexy bits, but it also wraps around her upper thighs and arms. Her chest has a thicker piece of leather covering her breasts, but I can see a bit of a tattoo peeking out the top.
She has straight, bright, fiery red hair that runs down her back and a lace mask that covers her upper face.
I can see she has dark makeup on around her eyes, but I’m too far to see the actual eye color.
Her lips are painted black to match her attire, but what really pulls my attention are her thick thighs that hold small leather sheaths on both and what looks like three thin silver shining blades tucked away in each.
I swear my heart picks up pace just watching her walk around the stage, but then anger starts to course through me at the fact these men are looking at her.
It’s irrational, I know, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Brother, are you alright?” Harris says, and I glance at him, but he isn’t looking at my face.
No, he is staring at my hands that are clenching the table in front of us.
“I want her.” Is all I say, and Harris’s face pales a bit.
I only ever interact with a woman when I have to, to fuck away stress, but none of them would be able to handle my crazy.
One look at this woman, and I just know she can handle it with ease.
“Is that a good idea? We really need this deal to go through; O. Rome will kill you if you fuck this up.” I snort.
Rome has threatened to kill me many times, but we are brothers and he needs me to do all the dirty work that he doesn’t want to do himself.
I shrug. “You can do business while I spend time with her, but she will be mine,” I say, turning back to the stage while a single black chair now sits.
“Let’s start the bidding at one thousand,” X says, and I hear multiple men call out. My anger grows with each voice that sounds out, but I stay quiet. “Three thousand?” X continues.
“Four thousand,” a man yells out, and I’ve started a mental kill list with each new voice and hand I see raised.
“Six thousand.” Sound from the other side of the room and I’m grinding my teeth at this point.
“Seven thousand.” Again. I look to the stage and see the woman looking right at me.
Our eyes meet and I can’t hold back any longer.
I stand to make a statement: “Twenty thousand.” I speak, and the whole room goes silent while I hear Harris choke on the drink he just took.
I keep my eyes locked on the woman, and she doesn’t back down from my stare.
No, this little devil smirks. I smirk back. To my surprise her smiles grow.
I finally look away and at my longtime friend. “I think I’m in love, brother.” I say just as I hear X call the bid to an end. He rolls his eyes but smiles up at me. “Go have fun but behave. Don’t hurt her, O. I mean it.” He features Harden, and I nod, but I don’t think there will be any issue.
I head over to the stage where X is waiting with a wicked smirk on his face.
“I knew you would enjoy tonight’s entertainment.
Take your seat, Theo.” He says and extends his hand towards the empty chair waiting on the stage.
As I step towards the stage, anticipation climbing, X calls back over his shoulder.
“Behave yourself, or Grim will play rough. You won’t like it if she is rough.
” I snort at his words but continue on up the stairs.
Taking my seat a bit eagerly. The lights are hotter up here than I expected.
Not just warm but exposing. They strip everything bare, not just skin.
My heart’s thudding so loud I swear it’s bleeding into the bass of the music.
I keep my head angled just right, chin tucked, shadows doing me a favor.
They always do, until they don’t. The scars pull when I tense.
They always do that too. A tight reminder etched into my face, pale and jagged against skin that never quite forgot what happened.
Don’t look up. Don’t let her look too close.
I’m regretting my decision now, but it’s too late.
I don’t know why this suddenly feels worse than standing in front of a gun barrel. Maybe because violence never cared what I looked like, but desire does. Want does. Want is cruel that way.
What if she flinches?
I’ve seen it before. That split second where eyes catch on the damage before the smile can settle. That micro-expression, people think I don’t notice. Disgust dressed up as pity. Curiosity edged with revulsion. Like my face is a cautionary tale instead of a man's.
The music shifts.
I swallow and force myself to breathe, knuckles white against my thighs as I hold myself perfectly still.
I tell myself she’s probably seen worse.
This place eats innocence for breakfast. Still, the thought of her gaze sliding over me—stopping, lingering—makes my chest lock up tight.
I don’t want her to look at the scars and see disgust.
I want her to look at me.
But up on this stage, under these lights, I don’t get to choose what’s seen. I just sit here, waiting, hoping that when she finally steps out and her eyes meet mine… she won’t look away. Won’t flinch.
I don’t hear her at first.
I smell her.
It slips under the heat of cheap cologne and sweat, threads through the smoke and heavy perfume until it settles low in my chest like a question I don’t know how to answer. Clean. Warm. Soft around the edges. Beta? At least that’s what my brain supplies automatically. But it doesn’t sit right.
She’s closer now. I feel the shift in the air behind me, the subtle displacement of space, the awareness that comes when someone steps into your orbit without asking permission. My shoulders tense automatically before I can stop them.
Beta scents should be… flat. Neutral. Background noise.
This is but isn’t.
There’s something threaded through it, sharp, almost electric, like ozone before a storm. It makes my pulse stutter, my nose flares despite myself, instinct betraying logic.
What the hell are you?
Her scent curls closer, brushing over me, intimate without touch.
Betas don’t usually make my instincts sit up and pay attention.
They don’t make something low and buried, shifting awake and restless.
This does. Whatever she is, whatever she’s hiding under that neat little label, it’s wrong in a way that feels dangerous.
And tempting.
My jaw tightens. I keep my eyes forward, heart beating harder than it has any right to. Behind me, she breathes slowly, steadily, and unafraid.
Yeah.
Something is definitely off.
A second later I feel her presence come up behind me. I brace for her touch, but then I hear soft whispered words that make this woman mine whether she likes it or not.
“Do you give me permission to touch you?”