What is Living?

[Briar's POV]

A smoky room with the lingering scent of cigarettes and alcohol. A single spotlight fixed on me, casting my silhouette across the audience. The smooth, sexy beat begins to play. And a single pole that will become my lover as I put on a show.

This place is my home and my place for digging. A small club called Claire Delune, fixed in the heart of the city, is the prime spot for gang lords, criminals, and dark characters alike.

It is because of the clientele that I work here. They are the ones who can give me the intel I need to solve the biggest unsolved mystery in my life.

Who or what killed my brother.

My name is Briar Atwood, and I'm twenty-one years old. I'm an orphan who lost her parents at the precious age of two due to a car accident. After that, my brother, who was thirteen years older than me, became my caregiver and my only family despite only being in high school.

He did everything he could to make sure that I lived a good life, even going as far as joining the underworld and becoming their dog who did all the dirty work.

At the time, I had no idea that was what my brother was doing instead of going to an actual job. It was only when he turned up dead and his identity as a hit man was revealed that I truly understood just how big of a burden I was.

Of course the police and news made my brother's death out to be gang-related, but I saw his body and the injuries he sustained. They weren't made by normal weapons. Honestly, they looked like they were made by some type of animal, but when I pointed that out to the detectives who were working my brother's case, they laughed me off.

After that day, I swore that I would find out what truly happened to my brother since the system wouldn't, and that was why I was here in this place shaking my ass and tits for all to see just so I could get information on the workings of the underworld. After all, it wasn't too hard to get these dudes speaking once they drank a few of my famous concoctions.

However, up until this point no one had uttered a fucking word of what I wanted to hear, and because of that I continued to endure.

“That's it, Stacy!” A man, a regular named Troy, yells from the audience. “Show me those tits.”

Smiling, I reach around my back while my hips swivel to the beat and pull at the string to my top. Once it is loose, I let it fall to the stage while all the disgusting bastards in the audience cheer. All except for one anyway.

He sits at the back of the room, his face obscured by smoke, but even then I can tell that his glowing golden eyes are watching me like a predator watches its prey.

Immediately, I know that he is dangerous, and yet, I want to get closer to him. Everything in me screams to get closer to him, and I can't help but wonder if maybe tonight is my lucky night. Maybe, just maybe, this dangerous man will help lead me to hell, where the answers I so desperately want are waiting.

“You,” I whisper, pointing at him and beaming so he knows I've noticed him staring. “Tonight, you're mine.”

Keeping my gaze locked on his, I continue to grind against the stage, putting on the most seductive show of my life until he gets up and starts moving.

No! I hiss inwardly, watching him disappear through the building's exit. Not yet! Don’t leave.

Cursing the fact that my show time was the longest of all the women here, I feel like I’m losing a great opportunity. And by the time I’m finally free, I’m ready to scream.

“Stacy!” Dave, our manager, calls before I can even take a seat in front of my vanity. “You’ve been requested.”

“Oh?” I ask, eyeing him and raising a brow. “Are they going to make it worth my time?”

“He,” Dave responds, his voice slightly pinched. “Is one of the most powerful men in the city.”

Eyes widening, I take in his words while trying to determine why someone like that would request me in particular when he could have all the women surrounding him this evening.

“Why don’t you send Emily or Talia?” I sigh, taking a seat and examining my reflection. “I already told you that I need to leave early today because…”

“He wants you.” Dave says, cutting me off before I can even speak. “And if you don’t go, you’re going to cause a lot of trouble for me.”

“Oh no,” I huff, my annoyance growing. “We wouldn’t want that.”

I didn’t give a shit if trouble came to this place, especially when it was where the trouble gathered for a relaxing evening. If Dave thought I was going to fall for that shit, then he…”

“If you don’t go, don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”

“Are you threatening me?” I hiss, swiveling around and eyeing him. “Really?”

“You heard me, beautiful.” He smirks. “Either do your fucking job and show that rich, young master a good time, or you’ll be out on the street, capiche?”

Opening my mouth, I prepare to tell him then he could kiss my beautiful ass goodbye before remembering that I needed this place to solve my brother's murder.

Fuck. He had me.

“Fine,” I growl, getting up and flicking my hair over my shoulder. “I’ll do it this once, but after today, I won’t be putting on private shows. I made it clear from the day you hired me that I wasn’t here for that kind of thing.”

“That’s what they all say, babe." Dave chuckles. “But in the end, they come to realize that they enjoy doing such things.”

They. He was referring to the whores that worked here. The ones who were all for fucking whoever offered them the most money in order to buy their next fix or live lavishly.

I wasn’t one of those. I had plenty of money from an inheritance since my brother’s death, and I was living comfortably. I didn’t even have to work for the rest of my life if I didn’t want to, and once I got the answers I was seeking, I would be out of this place and following my heart to my dream career as a PI in the city. Of course, I was already qualified to do such things, but I didn’t want to be associated with the police if someone caught onto what I was doing. That was why I held off on doing what I wanted.

“Get going.” Dave announces, snapping me out of my head. “You’ve made him wait long enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” I sigh, beginning to move. "Just remember you owe me."

"Of course."

Rolling my eyes, I don't bother looking to see what type of expression Dave is making; hell, it didn't matter to me at all anyway. Instead, I head out of the dressing room and toward the private wing of the club where all the raunchy shit happened, from hookups to orgies to drug parties.

I hated this portion of the club and avoided it as best I could, but here I was finally making my way there until I reach the room that is meant for VIPs.

"You've got this, Briar." I whisper, ignoring everything in me that screams to turn around and leave. "You're going to be alright. You're just going to serve him some drinks, keep him company, and then go home."

Settling on this, I plaster a smile on my face and knock, then wait until I hear a rumble that I can only assume means come in.

Not wasting any more time, I push open the door in front of me and feel my eyes widen in shock as I stare at the one waiting for me.