Chapter 3: Two Nights

Nyra didn't stay back.

The moment that scream left her mouth, she spun on her heels and ran. Her heart pounded like a war drum in her chest. 

She breathed out panicked bursts as she ran through the hallway, nearly colliding with a dancer on the way. 

She ran into the break room, where Madam Vexa sat counting cash and scribbling on a note.

“What the hell happened to you?” Vexa asked, raising an arched brow as Nyra stormed in, cheeks flushed.

“I need to leave.”

“Excuse me?”

Nyra went straight to her drawer, fled it open and yanked out her bag.

“I said, I need to leave. Tonight and right now. I can't put up with that.”

Vexa's expression darkened. “Nyra, what are you talking about? You were requested by a top client. VIP. Big spender. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful?” Nyra snapped, tossing her stage heels into her bag. “He touched me twice. And he wouldn’t stop. He pissed me off.”

Vexa rose slowly from her seat, as if realizing what her words meant. “What? You sprayed a VIP guest in the face? Do you know what kind of shit storm that could’ve caused?”

“I don’t care. I don’t dance for men like that.”

“You dance for anyone who pays.”

“Not anymore.”

Vexa’s jaw ticked. “You're not thinking clearly. Do you know who that was?”

Nyra slammed the drawer shut. “I didn’t care if he was the King of Hell. I said no. And that should’ve been enough.”

“You can’t just walk out every time a man looks at you for too long. This is the Crimson Veil, sweetheart. Men look. They pay. You tease. That’s the business.”

“It’s not a business when I feel like prey.”

Vexa narrowed her eyes but said nothing as Nyra flipped her bag over her shoulder and stormed out of the club.

Alpha Kael walked out of Room Nine moments later, blinking against the hallway light, still blotting the pepper sting from his eyes with a handkerchief. 

“Alpha?” Alaric met him near the entrance to the VIP section. “Are you alright?” 

“She ran,” Kael muttered without thinking. He hadn't even known how Alaric appeared when he'd instructed him to stay outside.

“She?”

Kael didn't explain. He adjusted his collar, pulled himself together and walked toward the reserved table where his business partner waited.

“Everything okay?” The man asked as Kael sat down.

“Yeah. All good.” 

“You sure?” 

Kael took a sip of whiskey. “I’ve just found something worth chasing.”

But even as the meeting progressed, and territory lines and cargo routes were discussed, his mind wandered. Her scent still lingered in his head. That laugh when she slipped from his grasp. 

He'd had women squirm under him, beg for him, try to trap him.

But none had ever escaped.

At that moment, he didn't want a new deal. He wanted her.

**

Three days passed.

The buzz in the Crimson Veil hadn’t died down. Whispers of the dancer who sprayed a VIP had spread like wildfire, but no names were mentioned. Madam Vexa kept her lips sealed, though her eyes scanned the place more than usual, wary of any fallout.

Nyra suddenly returned

She walked through the doors like she hadn’t disappeared three days ago, with seductive confidence.

Some other dancers threw her curious glances.

“Thought you quit,” one whispered.

“Thought you got fired,” another muttered.

“You got balls coming back here,” a third said.

Nyra just smirked. “I needed a break.”

She took her place on stage that night, her body slipping into muscle memory, the rhythm of the music guiding her hips. The lights glowed red again, casting her in the familiar shadow-play of lust and power.

She twirled, her leg hooking the pole with effortless grace. The room roared.

But halfway through her performance, she met his gaze.

She felt it before she saw him. Her eyes skimmed the crowd until they found the spot near the end of the VIP.

There he sat.

Leaning back in his seat like he owned the place. Dark suit. Unreadable expression. But his eyes glowed.

The heat in his stare made her thighs clench around the pole. Her breath caught. Her hips faltered, just a beat, before she found her rhythm again.

“He’s here again,” she muttered to herself.

Nyra looked away, refusing to acknowledge the wetness building between her legs. But it didn’t stop. Her body reacted without permission. A slow burn and an ache.

She spun again, dipped low and rolled her hips.

His gaze followed every movement, ravenously.

She could ignore the others. The men licked their lips. Nonetheless, it seemed impossible to ignore him.

Later, as she slipped off the stage, her heart still racing, she caught a whisper in the back hallway.

“The man in the upper deck back seat is freaking hot.”

“Kael Draven?”

“Yeah. That’s him. He's fucking handsome.”

Her blood ran cold.

Kael Draven.

She’d heard of him. Ruthless and freaking rich. Feared at every border. The type that didn't ask twice. Nyra recognized him.

She clenched her fists.

She suspected he was the one she'd been looking for all along.

A week passed in a blur, and Alpha Kael returned every night.

And every night, he sat in the same seat.

And every night, she danced like his eyes weren’t stripping her bare.

But she felt him. Every time.

Until one evening, Madam Vexa called her into the back room.

“You’re up for bid.”

Nyra frowned. “What?”

“Private weekend for two nights. The offer came in this morning. One of the highest bids I’ve seen in months.”

“No.”

“Nyra. Listen–”

“I said no, Vexa. I don’t do weekends.”

Vexa sighed softly and simply held out the envelope.

“You might want to see who placed the bid.”

Nyra hesitated before taking it. She opened it and saw what it was and whom it was from.

Alpha Kael Draven.

Her throat tightened.

“He bid for me?”

“Two nights,” Vexa muttered quietly. “No strings. It's just keeping company.”

“You honestly believe that?” She scoffed.

Vexa exhaled slowly. “I believe if you turn this down, he’ll still come back. Again and again. Until you say yes.”

Nyra looked down at the paper, she bit her lower lip hard.

Two fucking nights?!