I’d been dancing for three hours straight, the bass from the speakers still throbbing between my legs like a second heartbeat. The Velvet Lounge smelled like sweat, perfume, and spilled whiskey tonight, and I was already soaked before the last customer even slid his hand up my thigh. My stage name was Jade, but right now I was just a girl who’d run away from a house that never felt like home.I hated my mother—her screaming, her belts, the way she’d look at me like I was the reason her life turned to shit. Stephan, my stepdad, had been the only soft thing in that house. Quiet. Kind. He’d sneak me money for school supplies, cover for me when I came home late, never once raised his voice. But kindness alone couldn’t keep the roof from caving in. So at twenty I packed a duffel and left without saying goodbye. Three years later I was twenty-three, topless, and grinding on strangers for rent.Tonight I’d taken a regular into one of the smaller champagne rooms—dim red lights, black leather
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