CHAPTER 3: Aliv

KALE'S POV:

I never once hated what I did to survive. As long as no one was harmed because of my decision and my conscience wasn't beating me up, it was enough for me. No matter how degrading it might be, if it provided for my every need, then I wasn't complaining.

Being a stage performer for a private entertainment club had its perks and downs. Sometimes I didn't like complaining, knowing I had it better than most. I was no escort.

That's not me insulting those in the escorting business, just sharing my relief at not being vulnerable and out of danger. We, stage performers, were protected by the rule: look, but don't touch.

I was an object, except I breathed. A moving, beautified object for the wealthy to feast their hungry eyes on. Their gazes spoke volumes of the immoral and deceitful thoughts running miles around their minds. Some even licked their lips like they could taste the sensual energy being released in the expensive room.

While it felt humiliating to me, baring my body and sacrificing my energy for their pleasure, I never hated it. For the little time I spent on the stage, I got off on the power I had over them. Knowing that I was controlling their mind and bodily pleasure with mine was satisfying and self-fulfilling.

Now it was time for that power to fill me, even though I had no idea who the client was.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I let go of any semblance of Kale. Kale; the twenty-two-year-old undergraduate drowning in debt, working every day to cover the bills for his grandmother's treatment, the one with a love-hate relationship with his mum and a now-ex-boyfriend who cheated on him.

With careful strokes of the makeup artist's pencil, soft caresses of the blush brush, and the wet, sticky slide of the lipgloss, the sad expression of Kale faded. In came Aliv, the bold performer. My braids were perfectly styled, jewelry wrapped around the plaited hair, beads dangling from each strand.

I smiled. My reflection mirrored the same smile.

"Aliv, you're ready." Alyssa, my makeup artist, informed me as she stepped behind me to admire her work and check if anything was amiss.

From what I was looking at, everything was perfectly done. "Thank you, Alyssa. You did so good." I grinned brightly.

She wrinkled her nose in a poor attempt at evading my compliment. "You really have to stop complimenting me." She ducked her head, hiding behind the wall of her hair.

Alyssa had great artist hands, though she wouldn't accept it because she had no idea how to take a compliment. From what Axe once told me, she felt too pressured whenever someone complimented her or her work. I did understand, but it didn't stop me from appreciating her.

She was back at the table, packing up her makeup items, ready to move over to the next person who might need her, leaving me to continue admiring myself.

While everything was perfect, something was missing. I flinched, shifting back a little as a fabric appeared before my eyes.

My veil.

I smiled again appreciatively at Alyssa's perception, carefully taking it from her hand. Folding it a little, I rubbed the silk fabric on my face, feeling the soft texture slide over my skin.

Just like me, Aliv was invisible, only known for his great stage performances.

Alyssa leaned into my side a little. "Perfect," she murmured, almost to herself. "You look..."

"Like Aliv?" I offered.

She smiled. "Like you were born to be him."

I secured the fabric tightly behind my head and looked again at my reflection, now completed with the veil covering my nose and running down to my chest. White silky fabric embroidered with gold threads that twisted into lavender flowers, the design flowing across the material.

I was ready.

If the NDA files didn't tell me how important this unknown client was, then the room did. A perfectly hidden room reserved only for the extremely wealthy. The most poisonous people.

Think about the money, Kale. I told myself, repeating the mantra over and over again.

The room was dark, and I came in through the performer's entrance so they didn't see me. But I knew they knew someone had walked in. Even though I couldn't see them, I knew more than one person was in this room.

The suffocating air tightened my throat, making it hard to breathe. The smell of money mingled with the elegant fragrance wafting from the incense placed in the room.

I nearly shied away from the sudden light flooding the room. It wasn't bright and it set a sensual mood. A dim golden light allowed me to count the people in the room.

Five men, all tailored into suits like this was a meeting room.

I snorted at that perfection. Hiding their sinful nature behind glamorous attire.

The music started. A low, pulsing beat that vibrated through the floorboards. I took a deep breath, letting the sound settle into my bones.

Showtime.

I moved closer to the steel pole in the middle of the stage, closing my fingers around it as the lights hit me like a wave of heat. The room was a blur of shadows and glittering eyes, but I didn't look at them.

Like I said before, I didn't hate my work. I didn't hate dancing. Bending my body to the right proportion, lifting myself as I climbed the pole, twisting and turning around it like it lived in me. I ignored the pain flaring from my ribs as I fell into the magical feeling, shutting down every voice and living in Aliv's world.

The men were silent. No murmur, no whispers, not even a small applause. I would have lost my confidence to my nerves if it weren't for the feeling of their intense watchful gaze piercing me, slowly getting me into that high.

But something kept preventing me from reaching it. A very different gaze. This felt like it was flaying me open inch by inch, deeper and deeper. This unknown man watched my every move like a hawk that had seen its prey, ready to sink its claws. It tracked me as I moved across the stage.

I moved through the choreography, my body a blur of motion, the pole cold against my skin. My heart was pounding, not from exertion, but from the weight of that gaze.

The music swelled, and I let go, falling into a final spin. My body arched, my arm extended, my veil catching the light.

The music slowed to a final stop, and the lights brightened a little, as if bathing me in an afterglow before returning to the previous setting. Slowly, I dragged myself up, standing still, holding myself against the pole, afraid that if I let it go, I would fall to the ground. My chest heaved with every deep breath I inhaled and exhaled, my body slick with sweat.

It was a moment of silence. Then a loud clap that actually made me flinch, followed by another. Scattered but loud applauses now filled the room. And even though I didn't want it, I couldn't help the pride blooming in my chest.

My performance was great.

However, that gaze was getting more intense. Lifting my head, I saw him. The owner of such sharp eyes.

Dressed in a midnight black suit, he sat relaxed with a glass of wine resting on his lips. His hair, long enough to run down his shoulders, was as dark as the suit he wore. His face was unreadable. It was the most unsettling thing I'd ever seen.

Our eyes met, and it was a stare-down contest, though I suspected it was only a contest for me. For him, it was just observation.

I couldn't seem to move my gaze from his, so transfixed was I by his stare. My heart raged on, beating wildly against my ribcage.

Get a grip, Kale.

I mentally shook myself out of my frozen stupor and plastered on a fake, sweet smile. I was about to tear my gaze away when he set down his glass, his lips quirking into an infuriating smirk. Even before he spoke, I knew something stupid was about to leave his mouth.

"Repeat."

"What?" I asked, surprised by his unreasonable command.

"Hard of hearing, perhaps?" His voice was silk wrapped around steel. "Or just dumb." He leaned forward a bit, his eyes leveling mine.

"Repeat the dance."