Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Riley
Eden is supposed to be safe. That’s why I got the job here, that’s why I auditioned in the first place.
Even the backstage area of Eden feels less like a strip club and more like a high-end green room in a fancy theater.
But with Diana’s disappearance, I have to force myself to remember that I’m not safe here.
I know that Ezekiel and his brothers have nothing to do with the disappearances and for whatever reason, at least that feels comforting. I just chose to believe that they’ll find Diana and that she’s okay.
Earlier the detectives questioned the entire staff and a few of the dancers. Thankfully they didn’t want to talk to me. Considering how nervous I was, I’m not sure it would have done anyone any good.
I shake the thought out of my head, forcing a breath. I need to focus, tonight is my first official performance.
From across the lounge, , my eyes lock onto the main bar as I’m trying to calm down before going on stage.
Cohen is leaning over the marble counter, his upper body angled toward Mia in a way that feels entirely too intrusive even for a night club.
He is saying something to her, his lips curved into a smooth, practiced smile that makes the hairs on my arms stand up.
I watch as Mia laughs, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she leans into the conversation.
She seems completely charmed by whatever line he’s feeding her.
From the outside, it looks like they’re hitting it off effortlessly.
But for some reason, watching the deliberate way his eyes track her movements, makes a heavy unease tighten in my gut.
I don’t like Cohen.
“Riley,” Jena’s voice snaps me from my thoughts and I turn to look at her. She has a big smile on her face. “It’s your turn.”
“Now?” I find it hard to move my feet and climb on stage. It suddenly became too real. “I don’t know if I can do this, Jena…”
“Of course you can,” she reassures me. “There is nothing more beautiful than embracing your sensuality and owning it in a way that no one can take it from you. And you, Riley, your body transforms into pure emotion when you dance.”
I nod, taking a deep breath and then walk out onto the stage.
The bass is loud, shaking the floor under my heels. The red and blue stage lights instantly blur the room into a hazy mix of smoke and shadows, making it hard to distinguish the faces of the men in front of me.
My body starts moving on instinct. Just as I did in practice, I wrap one hand around the cold, slick pole and drop into a low squat. The metal slides against my inner thigh as I trace the line of my hip downward.
Every inch of my skin becomes hypersensitive. The air in the club is warm and thick with the scent of expensive cologne and liquor, but when I pull the tie of my robe and let the silk slide off my shoulders, the sudden draft feels sharp.
I wait for the humiliation to choke me. I wait to feel small and embarrassed.
But none of those things happen. Instead, my shoulders straighten as my hips continue to move sensually to the beat. I reach up, my fingers catching the hem of my top. The fabric scrapes over my face and clears my hair as I throw it to the side.
Someone lets out a loud approval and I smirk.
After stepping out of the tiny skirt and kicking it aside, I find myself in nothing but a thin strip of lace at my hips. The air grazing my exposed skin feels welcoming, like a caress rather than a walk of shame.
I wonder if he’s watching.
I look toward the side mirror, catching my own reflection through the neon glare. My chest rises and falls with heavy, even breaths. My body feels more alive than it ever has.
Jena was right.
In the heat of the moment, I grip the pole, arching my back until my hair brushes the stage floor, then pull myself up with the strength of my arms. Every movement is deliberate, heavy with the rhythm of the bass. For the first time, I’m deciding how to move and becoming one with my own body.
I slide down the metal again, dropping into the beat, entirely locked into the heat of my own skin.
I realize I’ve never felt more like the boss of my own life than as I do now, dancing naked in front of a room full of strangers. I almost wish it would last longer, but once the song ends, I receive a surprisingly loud applause.
Mia performs right after me and I stand on the side watching. She’s incredibly good at this. An overwhelming mix of feeling proud and completely captivated by my friend’s stage presence takes over me.
“You were so good!” I shout when she climbs off the stage and walks up to me. I pull her into a quick hug.
“You too, girl!” She’s grinning ear to ear. “I can’t believe we did this.”
“Me neither, but it felt fucking empowering,” I admit. “I’m kinda looking forward to the next performance.”
“Me too,” Mia replies as we’re both heading to the dressing room. “I don’t feel like calling it a night yet, what if we stick around a bit and maybe watch the rest of the show?”
“That sounds good,” I agree, a part of me hoping that I’ll run into Ezekiel again. Or maybe that he’ll come look for me.
“Girls,” Jena approaches just as we’re about to enter the dressing room. “Our boss wants to see you in the private room.”
“What for?” I ask before Mia’s excited shout permanently damages my left ear.
“There is a very important guest that requested a private dance,” Jena explains. “Another two girls will be joining you.”
“Oh my God!” Mia shouts. “That’s so cool! Can you believe we’re being asked to do a private dance for this VIP guest on our very first night?”
“I can’t,” I turn to face Jena again. “I’m not sure this is something that I signed up for. I thought that we’re under no obligation to do anything we’re not comfortable with.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Jena shakes her head with a smile on her face. “This isn’t very different from the stage performance. The only difference is that there is just the VIP guests instead of a full bar.”
“They won’t touch us and place tips in our panties?” I ask.
“Not unless you’re clear about allowing it before the dance,” Jena explains. “And the Kavanaghs will be present.”
A sudden rush washes through me. Ezekiel is going to be there too and I shouldn’t be excited by that thought, but the sudden pulsing between my legs would state otherwise.
“Come on, it’s going to be fun,” Mia says.
I nod and follow Jena before my mind can even catch up. The mention of Ezekiel was all it took. She leads us down a long, unfamiliar corridor where the lights are deep red, illuminating dark leather and erotic art on the walls.
Inside the private room, Jena introduces us to Leonardo Mancuso.
He’s lounging on a massive sofa right next to the pole, two stone-faced guards flanking him.
I instantly scan the room for Ezekiel. He’s sitting on another sofa with Malachi, further back, but still close enough that the heavy scent of his cologne fills the tight space.
Two other dancers, Roxy and Chloe, slip into the room right behind us.
“Let’s get this party started,” Mancuso raises his glass in the air, a big grin on his face.
“Did you miss me?” Chloe walks up to him and places a kiss on his cheek.
“It’s a torture being away from you, bambina,” Mancuso replies, sliding a dollar bill into her bra.
“She knows him,” Roxy whispers, noticing the terrified look on my face.
“Oh,” I sigh, feeling relieved.
“Chloe is the girl he always asks for and she loves hanging out with him.”
The music starts up, a slow, heavy beat that fills the small space. Mia follows Roxy and the two of them take the chairs, while Chloe handles the floor. I move to the pole, avoiding making eye contact with Mancuso, who seems captivated by me the moment I step in front of him.
I can feel Ezekiel’s eyes on me the exact second they lock on. I glance at him and notice he’s leaning back on the other sofa, looking completely relaxed but his jaw is tight. His gaze feels heavy as it tracks my hands sliding up my thighs.
From the outside, he looks totally bored, just a guy watching a show he’s seen a million times before. But my attention falls to the way his knuckles turn white around his whiskey glass, and I can’t help but smile.
He hates that Mancuso is looking at me. In fact, I would be willing to bet that he’s pissed, but he’s doing a pretty good job hiding it behind a blank face. Just knowing that he’s burning up inside makes me move slower and give him exactly what he’s trying not to look at.