Chapter 2

I swiveled by inches, pleading with a silent universe for a miracle, but fate has always been cruel to me.

Standing there was the only man I've ever loved, and the last person who should find me in a place like this.

I didn't know how to react. I felt extremely ashamed that he had found me here until I remembered that I had a mask on.

I didn't dare meet his gaze even though I was convinced he couldn't have identified me.

A bitter, suffocating ache clawed its way back into my chest.

The man who had spanked me earlier sneered, stepping forward in defiance. “Why get so territorial over a club whore when we can all share happily?”

Club whore…

The insult turned my stomach.

“Exactly. She has enough holes for all of us.”

“Hold on, aren't you married?” He spat, narrowing his eyes at Alexander's expensive suit.

Someone in the VIP booth behind us gasped, pointing a finger. “Look closely, it’s Alexander Stone. He is a married man.”

“This is my first time seeing a married man fight over worthless scraps.”

Another drunk patron laughed, a nasty smile spreading across his face as he looked from Alexander to my bare skin. “Guess the news was wrong, or are strippers actually your type?”

My heart hammered with a fleeting, naive hope.

Because of the dialogue around us, I actually believed I was safe behind the disguise, convincing myself he was just a wealthy patron protecting a helpless lady.

So kind of him.

“She is mine,” he growled, and his voice jerked me upright. Mine? I must have heard the wrong words. He hadn't recognized me, right? Of course not. I have a mask on. “And I never share what is mine.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself believe a desperate lie.

I thought the molded plastic kept my secret safe, that he was just a wealthy patron intervening for a stranger.

But then, the illusion shattered completely.

His voice boomed over the fading music, ordering everyone out, and the authority in his tone emptied the VIP lounge in seconds.

The moment we were alone, he yanked the disguise away with a brutal tug.

“I was right, it’s you.” He barked in disbelief.

Our eyes met, and I saw the raw shock on his face. It was unmistakable.

His face became unreadable as the truth collided with his reality.

“Do I know you?” I asked, pretending he was a stranger.

He let out a humorless laugh.

“You ran away from me seven years ago, only to end up stripping? Given your current degraded status, you may as well submit to my absolute control.”

My heart hammered violently against my ribs, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin as the sheer weight of his fury hit me.

Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run.

I took an instinctive step back, my eyes darting toward the exit as my muscles tensed to bolt, desperate to put distance between us. But before I could even turn, his hand shot out and he trapped me to him.

I trembled under his intense gaze, utterly trapped and unable to defend myself.

The unfairness of it nearly broke me. I had survived a living hell to keep his child breathing, yet he stood there looking completely untouched by the fire.

Seven years had only made him more breathtaking, adding a mature authority to the face I used to know so well.

A treacherous fascination locked me in place, drowning out my desperate need to escape.

I shivered as he inhaled my scent.

It was the only thing I hadn't changed about myself.

This moment made me admit why.

A cold rage loaded in his gaze but beneath it was the intoxicating desire he once felt for me.

The moment he unhanded me, I thought I could bolt, but his following words utterly paralyzed me.

“Strip.”

“Alex—”

“Right now.” He insisted coldly.

“Alex, please let me go,”

His jaw pulled taut. “If those aren't off in five seconds, I'm ripping them.”

I shifted my gaze toward him, feeling a mix of guilt and excitement.

When he looked at me, his eyes were filled with passion but also brimmed with pent-up hatred.

A sharp pang of regret pierced through my anger.

I had put him through so much back then, breaking his heart and walking away.

So, I shouldn't expect him to be gentle with me.

Even now, I was still keeping the biggest secret of our lives from him.

But looking at his flawless face, a darker, heavier sorrow took over.

I’ve been through a lot too, I thought bitterly. More than anyone should ever have to bear.

A cold sweat broke out along the nape of my neck.

My heart hammered like a trapped animal.

The gold watch on his wrist ticked, and with every microscopic click, my mind sprinted back to the intensive care unit three miles away.

The clock is ticking.

Right now, our son was lying in a sterile hospital bed, hooked up to a tangle of tubes and monitors that beeped a terrifying rhythm.

His fragile lungs were failing.

”We can start advanced therapy immediately, but the hospital demands a ten-thousand-dollar down payment to initiate treatment. Every moment counts. If we don't start within 24 hours, his body won't have the stamina to survive.”

I was convinced they wouldn't start without the down payment.

That was why I was here, under the flashing neon lights of the VIP lounge, stuffed into a cheap crop top and a used thong.

I was running out of time.

I needed the cash.

I needed to be back at that hospital, clutching my boy's tiny hand before they rolled him under the surgical lights.

My breath shuddered.

Alex began to undress me, himself when I didn't move.

My skin tingled with every touch but I forced myself not to feel anything.

Alex removed his suit and wrapped my nude with a gentleness I was expecting.

I thought that was all he intended, but then he firmly placed his hand between my thighs.

I gasped when he found out how soaked I was.

“I’m at work—”

Alex cut off my words with a thrust.

“You’re currently working,” he whispered close to my mouth and pushed another finger inside me. “Isn’t that why you are a stripper? To get touched by strange men in public?”

The deep pain and anger in his voice shook me.

Tears began to fall from my cheeks.

“Alex, please don't do this.” I pleaded with him.

I swallowed down the guilt as he stared at me with an icy expression.

“Since you erased yourself to live the life of a whore, I will treat you exactly like one.”

Before I could react to his degrading words, he began to finger fuck me right there on the stage.

I grabbed the dance pole for strength when his rhythm became rougher and more merciless.

I sobbed harder but he didn't yield. His fingers went in and out of me until I was gasping for air and piercing his biceps with my nails.

“Alex, please…” I choked out.

I wanted to repel his touch but my body defied my mind. Seven years. Seven years without his touch. Seven years without any sort of intimacy. This was the ultimate torture. I had to actively bury the fervent desire we used to share.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned.

A muffled sob escaped me and I quickly shook my head. “Please… stop.”

“You missed this, didn't you?” He spoke as his fingers slipped out of my wetness and then pushed back abruptly. “Or do you wish it were my cock instead? Tell me honestly, and I’ll make your wish come true.”