Two

ANGELA'S POV

With the first roll of my hips the mass of people below the stage went nuts. Hoots and whistles exploded through the club like thunder.

I tried desperately not to look at them, to ignore the forest of hands reaching up from the edges of the stage, fingers grasping at the air as if they could pull me down into their midst.

In my mind, i was in an empty dance studio, practicing my routine for the competition.

My moves were sharp and precise, as approached the end of the stage.

My hips moved in rhythm and my hands ran across my body seductively. I had no clue how to work the pole, but i had seen enough movies and had enough experience in dance to try it for the first time.

I wrapped my fingers around the thick metal pole, using the momentum to spin.

The world blurred for a second.

"More!"

"I want to see your ass!"

"Come closer, pet!”

My eyes squeezed shut as I twisted around the pole, graceful despite the fear clawing at my chest.

Ignore them. Ignore. Ignore….

Then i felt it.

A stare that cut through the chaos like a blade.

Steady eyes were watching me from distance, different from these horny patrons pushing past each other at my feet.

This gaze commanded attention. It demanded I look. And against every instinct, I did.

My eyes locked onto a pair of smoky grey ones across the room. They burned like embers rising from a wildfire that had already consumed everything in its path. The intensity stole the breath from my lungs. It felt like being stalked by a hungry tiger.

He stood out from the writhing crowd like a king among peasants. Walnut-brown hair slicked back perfectly, a sharp jaw shadowed with stubble, and an impeccably tailored suit hugging his powerful frame. His head tilted slightly, one hand resting against his chin as he watched my dancing figure, completely absorbed in his lust.

Two women draped themselves over him—one with her hand sliding up his thigh, the other pressing kisses to his neck. But he paid them no mind. His focus remained entirely on me.

Something about him sent ice sliding down my spine. He looked as dangerous as a stray bullet and as devastatingly handsome as a fallen god.

I tore my gaze away, but the damage was done. My rhythm faltered. Disappointed groans rose from the crowd.

I pushed through the rest of the routine, spinning and arching around the pole until the song finally crashed to an end.

I wished for nothing more than to get off of the stage sooner. But i couldn't help looking again. My eyes trailed over the crowd towards the lounge. The man was talking to someone, his eyes no longer on me.

Relief dropped over my shoulders.

He was unsettling, even more than the rowdy crowd.

"Strip already!" One of the patron demanded,

angered by the lack of show.

I was already as bare as the club allowed. I couldn’t give any more.

Grabbing the scattered bills as quickly as I could, I fled the stage in my towering heels. It wasn’t graceful neither was it seductive. I practically ran off as fast as my stilettos could allow me.

Katie waited backstage, her expression caught somewhere between a cringe and an awkward smile.

"That was...Never mind. First times are always bad," She assured, trying her best not to offend. "But you did good with the pole, I

actually was shocked. Perhaps we can still

make something from you,"

She looked down at the crumpled money in my hand. Barely sixty dollars.

“I won’t earn anything dancing like this,” she said. “ Besides, did you get distracted or something?” she asked.

“Uhmm..There was a man there,”

Katie chuckled softly.

"Honey, there are a lot of men here,"

"No. He was different. He looked really...rich," i stammered, unsure how to describe the stranger with silver eyes.

"A lot of people here are rich. Mostly spoilt sons of wealthy daddies or the daddies themselves,"

Katie explained the obvious, giving me strange look.

"Don't stress, It's your first day. The real money comes from lap dances. The show you put on there earns you clients. People will request you if they find you sexy. Simple," Katie shrugged, marching back into the changing room.

The idea of lap dances made my stomach turn, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

We had barely stepped back into the changing room when a short, bulky man blocked our path. He was chatting casually with Bliss until his narrowed eyes landed on us.

"Hey, Dog," Katie greeted, her voice leaking

hesitation.

My nerves spiked instantly.

Was it normal for random men to wander into the dancers’ changing area?

"Boss wants Angel,” the man, Dog said flatly.

He didn’t seem fazed by the half-naked women around him. His dark eyes locked onto me where I hid slightly behind Katie.

My heart slammed against my ribs with great force. My hands grew clammy, and all the color drained from my face.

Was I that bad?

Dread coiled in my stomach.

"W-what for?" I stammered, my voice broken by anxiety.

Katie was the first to catch up on my fear,

“It’s her first day, Dog…” Katie started.

“I don’t care. He wants to see her, so he will.” His tone left no room for argument. “Let’s go.”

The order rung loud and clear–i didn't have a choice. I could only hang my head low and let the man lead me through the club.

For his short form, he walked fast, creating

quite a bit of struggle for my poorly dressed figure on heels.

He led me into a private lounge.

The room mirrored the main club–deep red walls, dim seductive lighting–but smaller and more intimate.

A half-moon couch dominated one side, with a miniature stage and pole in the center.

Ferocious eyes met mine.

The same man who had observed my performance, sat on the long half-moon shaped couch. His one arm was draped over a beautiful brunette and the other hand held a lit cigarette.

He took a long drag of nicotine, eyeing me from head to toe.

"Hanzo, I thought you like your women busty," The brunette at his side purred, pushing her boobs against his arm.

The look in her eyes as she looked my way was poisonous. If it was up to her, i would be bleeding on the ground.

“Shut your trap,” he growled without looking away from me.

The brunette yelped as she was roughly

shoved to the side by the same arm she was snuggling against.

Hanzo slowly stood up, his imposing figure towering above everyone in the room. The suit jacket he had on earlier was now gone, the black shirt rolled up tightly around the bulging muscles of his arms.

“What’s your name?” Smoke curled from his lips with every word.

I stepped back instinctively as the distance between us shrunk.

Katie’s warning echoed in my head.

We never give out our real names.

“A-Angel,” I whispered, my voice high and strained.

“Your real name,” he demanded.

“Angel,” I repeated, cheeks burning, legs trembling like leaves in a storm.

He exhaled the last of the smoke through his nose, a small, taut smile pulling at his lips.

A nasty scar marked his left cheek, but it did nothing to diminish the dangerous beauty of his face.

"Angel," He prolonged each letter like he

was savoring the taste of that name.

He stepped closer, looming over my petite frame.

“I like that…innocence,”

His gaze traveled slowly down my body, lingering on my chest.

“Take off your bra.”

The command hit me like a slap.

“What!!? I won’t do that.”

My hands flew up to cover myself, but the movement only seemed to amuse him.

“Your father owes me a lot of money, doesn’t he?”

So this was him–the man who held my father’s life in his hands.

“I’ll pay you for everything you do. Take it off, and I’ll give you a hundred bucks. You’ll never make that that much dancing on the main stage.”

I gulped, insides twisting with dread.

He patiently waited, grey orbs drilling a hole in me. Like a deer caught in headlights, i felt frozen.

There was something raw about the man. The way he carried himself alone made chills run down my spine.

My fingers shook as they finally reached behind my back. The straps of the bra slipped down my shoulders, and shortly after the clasp came undone.

Oh, no! The boob pads!

As the piece of underwear fell to the ground, so did the jelly things Katie made me put into my bra.

I had completely forgotten about them.

For a split second, my mortification overrode everything else. My cheeks flamed lobster red as I stared at the pads lying pathetically at my feet. All my insecurities were on full display.

The brunette’s hyena-like laughter shattered the moment.

“Oh my God! How pathetic! The girl’s flatter than a damn plank!”

It stung deeper than I wanted to admit. I had always been slim, but I wasn’t completely flat.

“Get out,” Hanzo growled at the woman, not even glancing her way.

Her laughter died instantly. She shot me one last murderous look but didn't dare to speak against the man. Then she stormed out on clicking heels.

While i was glad that the bitchy girl was gone, a part of me almost preferred her here. Now there was just the two of us left.

He didn't touch me. He didn’t even need to touch me. His cold, appraising stare on my naked upper body made my skin flush hot and pink.

“Dance for me,” He suddenly demanded, taking a step back to give me some space. "If you do well, I will double your money. And…don't cover your boobs,"

My trembling hands slowly lowered from my chest. The cool air brushed over my bare skin, tightening it. Shame burned through me.

Under his cold, observing gaze, i felt small

and vunerable. I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye as i climbed onto the small podium.

My small palms wrapped around the pole. There was no music—only thick, heavy silence broken by the sound of my heels against the platform and the frantic beating of my heart.

I moved awkwardly at first as there wasn't any rhythm to guide me. Every motion felt exposed and vulnerable under his unwavering gaze.

From the corner of my eyes, I watched him lean against the couch, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching like a predator studying prey. He couldn’t have been much older than thirty, yet there was nothing youthful about him. His features were dark and hardened like a man who had walked through hell and returned on friendly terms with the devil.

He noticed when I glanced at him. Nothing escaped those eyes of his.

Suddenly he pushed off the couch and approached the stage with slow, deliberate steps.

I froze mid-arch, breathing hard. My wide blue eyes clashed with his steel-grey ones.

Without a word, he pulled several dollar bills from his pocket and slipped them into the waistband of my underwear. His fingers brushed intimately against my most sensitive skin, lingering just long enough to make me gasp.

“Good,” he murmured, voice low and husky, before pulling his hand away.

As if nothing had happened, he stepped back and lit another cigarette.

“You may go now.”

I could still feel the sensation of his fingers, as I scrambled off the stage on unsteady legs, the money still tucked against me. I didn’t dare look back as I rushed toward the door, his final words following me like a promise.

“We’ll meet again… My Angel.”