His For A Night

Maya

Silver Charm Strip Club – NOW HIRING. No experience required. CASH NIGHTLY.

Cash. The thing I needed most to find a place to settle down. Beneath the offer was an address and a note: APPLY IN PERSON.

My stomach twisted. I looked down at my barefooted legs. The cold was killing me, and my bare flesh only added fuel to the fire. I had nothing left on me. The best option right now is to get some quick cash and figure out what to do next.

I had been away from home for more than five hours. My father would kill me when he found out I was gone. No, my mother would be the one to do it. With all the preparations and invitations sent to her friends, I was sure the woman had turned the household upside down by now.

Just a week ago, my father had announced my engagement to a wealthy businessman. A man I had met once, who barely spoke to me and didn't care about anything other than my family's fortune. I was expected to comply, to take the place I was born into without question. But the suffocation of that future had driven me to the edge.

It's fucking crazy how they treat me like a toddler when I'm fucking twenty-one. I'm an adult, for crying out loud.

Well, they can find someone else to fill my spot. That is, if they have another daughter after me. I'm the one and only daughter of Alexander Hartwell. Chairman of the largest multifunctional corporation in the country: Hartwell Enterprises.

I prefer a life full of freedom and adventure, not one where people befriend me just for the benefit of my father's name. All my life, I've been in New York. Now, for the first time, I've taken a bold step to escape.

It felt surreal, finding myself making an escape from home with nothing but a backpack, my passport, and a wallet containing some cards and cash.

The same backpack I had that had just been stolen from me minutes ago, forcing me to look for a job to get some quick cash. Chills ran down my spine as I recalled how I was robbed.

I lost everything on my first arrival to Chicago. Doesn't this serve as a sign for going against my father?

Maybe this is what happens when I go against my parents. Perhaps my mother's curses were the reason I got robbed and left with nothing.

"Ahh!" I cried out as a sharp pain shot through my foot. Looking down, I saw the tiny flesh on my toe had torn. "This is fucking bullshit!" I shouted, not caring how my voice bounced back.

Maybe I would swallow my pride and eventually call my father, accepting my fate. Because there was no way in hell I'd stay in this unfamiliar, cruel city with nothing to take care of myself.

My heart raced in my chest, but I knew it was my last option. Cash was what I needed. No one know my face. I'd get the money and disappear without a trace. A smile tugged at my lips when I saw the sign: SILVER CHARM.

I pushed open the heavy door, and the muffled thump of music spilled out to greet me. Inside, dim lights cast shadows across the room, and the air was thick with perfume. I hesitated near the entrance, scanning the room for someone to talk to.

Before I could gather my courage, a sharp voice barked from the side.

"Hey! You're late!" A woman with a clipboard eyed me up and down.

I opened my mouth to explain, but she waved me off impatiently.

"Save it. Go backstage and get ready—we're short tonight."

Confused, I blinked, but she was already gone, leaving me standing in the chaos. My heart pounded in my chest as I followed the signs to the "Dressing Rooms."

Women darted around in glittering outfits, adjusting makeup and fixing their hair under harsh fluorescent lights. I lingered near the door, unsure where to go.

Before I could think, a petite woman in a sequined bra and leather pants grabbed my arm. "Hurry up, newbie! Costume rack's over there. You're on in five."

"I'm not—" I started, but the woman was already gone. Panic flared in my chest. Five minutes? I didn't even know what I was doing.

But when my eyes landed on a simple black outfit hanging on the rack, something inside me shifted. This was survival. I grabbed the outfit and slipped into it, my hands trembling.

A booming voice called from outside the door. "First-timer! Let's go!"

With no time to second-guess myself, I stepped out of the dressing room.

The music hit me like a shockwave as I stepped onto the edge of the stage. The lights were blinding. I hesitated, my heart pounding. I couldn't breathe.

The announcer's voice boomed, "Let's welcome our newest performer!"

I moved awkwardly at first, the reality of what I was doing hitting me like a wave. Whistles and cheers erupted from the crowd, but I forced myself to keep going, swaying to the beat as best as I could.

It wasn't graceful. It wasn't alluring. But it was survival.

And yet, as my body began to move more naturally, my gaze flickered to the VIP section. That's when I saw him.

He sat in the shadows, his presence undeniable. His piercing gaze was locked on me, cool and calculating, like a hunter watching its prey. Unlike the rest of the crowd, he didn't cheer. He just... observed.

My pulse quickened, my movements faltering under the weight of his stare. My heart hammered, but I pushed through, forcing myself to finish the routine. When the final note played, I froze in place, chest heaving, unsure if I felt relief or dread.

The applause was loud, but the stranger didn't clap. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he'd seen something no one else had.

He whispered something to the man beside him, who quickly stood and disappeared toward the backstage area. I had no idea what was coming next, but I knew one thing for sure: I hadn't just danced for a crowd. I'd danced for him.

I barely had time to catch my breath before a tall man in a dark suit approached me. His presence was commanding, and his eyes scanned me with quiet intensity.

"You're wanted upstairs," he said, his voice smooth yet commanding.

"Upstairs?" I repeated, confused.

"Yes." He glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting me to follow. "Don't make him wait."

My stomach churned. Him. The man in the VIP section? My instincts screamed at me to refuse, to bolt out the back door and never look back. But I couldn't. I didn't even have enough money for a meal, let alone an escape.

I swallowed hard, my feet moving before my brain could catch up. The man led me through the club's back corridors, passing rooms filled with smoke and murmurs.

The man opened a door and gestured for me to enter.

I stepped inside, and there he was.

The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single lamp on the table. He sat in an armchair, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. Up close, he was even more intimidating. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and eyes so cold they seemed to pierce right through me.

He didn't say anything at first, just looked at me.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hide my unease. "What do you want?"

He smirked, the movement subtle. "You're new here."

"Yeah, so?" I snapped. I don't know why I was getting irritated all of a sudden.

"You're either brave or incredibly stupid to talk to me like that."

He stood, his towering frame making me feel small. He took a step closer, and I instinctively stepped back, my back hitting the wall.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, like a predator luring its prey.

"Maya," I said, my throat dry.

"Maya," he repeated, the way he said my name sending a shiver down my spine. "Do you know who I am?"

"No," How would I know who he was.

His eyes narrowed. "Then let me enlighten you. My name is Roman Volkov. This club belongs to me." He leaned in, his face mere inches from mine.

I froze, my mind racing. Volkov. The name alone was enough to send a ripple of unease through me.

"I don't have time for games, Miss," he continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "I can offer you more money for one night than you've seen in your life, and in exchange, you'll spend the night with me. No questions. No strings. Just one night."

All my twenty one years of life, I have never encounter a man who speaks with so much powerful aura that gets my head spinning. Not due to his request but the way his deep voice penetrated through my body. It didn't quite settle well with me.

Did I forget to mention his eyes were as dark as my dress—dangerous and cold."

"Are you saying you want to have sex with me?" I found my mouth blurting out the question. A subtle smile occupied his face in return.

"Women don't usually question me. You're... unique."

What! Does that means he has slept with a lot of women? Maybe half of Chicago women. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my feet refused to move, locked by his gaze and the weight of my situation.

My feet felt glued to the cold marble floor.. Not to talk of how chills was running down my spine. From how the stranger was attacking me with his dangerous eyes.

Money is all I need not to sleep with a man I met on my first day in the city.

"I know what you need." He said cutting through my thoughts. I hadn't released my breathing when he added. "Money,"

I didn't try to hide away my shock to his revelation. His eyes met briefly with his wristwatch. "Time is valuable to me,"

"You're right money is what I need but I'm sorry, I'm not here for this kind of job," I proceeded to walk away when my breathing got caught in my throat.

A strong electric wave passed through my body. I almost could not breath when my body brushed against his. Something twitched in between my legs. How can I lose my sense of thinking just by the mere touch from this stranger?

"After tonight, your problems might just disappear entirely—if you play your cards right, Mi Amor," I don't know what he meant by what he said. However the only thing running through my head at that moment as I held his dark intense gaze, was how effective his touch would be when he had his hands on other sensitive parts of my body.

This is insane. I shouldn't even consider it. Every part of me screamed to leave, to run as fast as I could out of this suffocating room. But his presence was magnetic, pulling me in despite every alarm going off in my head.

His eyes bore into mine, dark and dangerous, like he could see through every layer of my body. My breathing hitched more as his hand brushed ever so slightly against mine—a touch so brief yet so powerful it sent a shockwave through my entire body.

What was I doing? What was wrong with me? This man was dangerous.

But one night wouldn't hurt right? After all, we won't see each other again. I will take the money and make a run for it. No strings attached.

I didn't even have time to make a decision whether to accept or leave when his lips crashed against mine. A spark immediately ignited in my chest, sending goosebumps down my skin. His hands gripped my waist, firm yet commanding, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

"Enjoy your freedom while you can, Maya," he whispered through my mouth. "Because tonight, you're mine."