Semua Bab Dirty Shifts: Bab 11 - Bab 20

~ Emma ~*Twelve years ago*I work in one of the fanciest rich clubs in town.I walked in with my crew — three bad bitches moving like we owned the whole damn place. I was twenty, fresh out the streets, already stacking money faster than most niggas twice my age.This wasn’t no regular job. By day I played hostess at the club. By night? I moved heavy weights. Not that weak shit. Hard weapons — clean Glocks, ARs, custom pieces that could make problems disappear nice and quiet. Illegal as hell, but the money was quick and fat. The kind that let a bitch like me breathe easy most of the time.Bella was right behind me that night like she always did. My girl. My right hand.I pulled her into this life six months back when she was broke, stressed, crying over rent and that deadbeat stepmom on her neck. I told her, “Come with me, let's make quick money. Easy moves and we will look out for each other.”She didn’t hesitate, she humped in headfirst.At first, i

Later that same damn day, we was still posted up in the living room, notebooks everywhere—names, plans, half-finished schemes scattered like straight-up crime scene evidence.I took a slow breath, eyes locked on the floor, then let it slip out before I could punk out.“I’m thinking about going to see my mom.”Sophia froze mid-sip, real still. Emma paused with the blunt halfway to her lips, eyes cutting over to me like she already knew this wasn’t about to be simple.“The fuck?” Emma snapped, eyes narrowing. “After everything that bitch did? She really picked Evan’s lying ass over her own blood… and you tryna spin back and give her another chance?”I shrugged, but my chest was tight as hell, like it didn’t wanna let the words out.“I know how it sounds,” I muttered. “I ain’t stupid. But that’s still my mom.”I dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling slow.“Ten years locked up? That shit change you. Make you sit with everything… over and over. And if I

The weekend hit us fast as hell. One minute we sitting around the apartment plotting like some cold-blooded generals, next thing you know the clock spun and it’s go time. No more talking. We got our shit together—hair laid, bodies oiled up till we glowing like fresh sin, makeup beat to perfection. We locked in on this plan like it was life or death, ‘cause for real… it was. One slip-up tonight and everything we built in that prison hellhole go up in smoke.We rolled up to R.M Club already posted in the VIP section, exactly where we needed to be. Lights low, bass thumping through my chest like a second heartbeat. I leaned back against the plush booth, crossed my legs, face calm as a church lady on Sunday. But inside? My mind was moving a hundred miles a minute, calculating every angle.Then they walked in.Mr. Gabriel Mason stepped through the velvet curtain first, moving like the whole damn city was under him. A couple big-name suits trailed behind his ass

Vicky Gavin walked right in swinging, that same cold smirk on her face like she knew she was about to fuck up the whole moment.She stopped short when she saw us—me naked on the pole edge, fingers still buried deep, Ryan standing there with that massive hard-on tenting his pants. Her eyes narrowed, flicking between us fast.I froze mid-grind, breath catching, but I didn’t pull my hand away. Ryan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away from me.This bitch had the worst fucking timing.Vicky stood there in the doorway, arms crossed tight under them fake-ass tits she always pushing up. She didn’t even try to hide the hate on her face.“Well, well,” she said, voice dripping that fake-sweet poison she always saved for me. “Didn’t mean to interrupt the little private party. But I got a message for you, new pussy. A very important customer downstairs been asking for you specifically. Said you taking way too much time up here playing around. Time to bring your ass down.

~ Emily ~My head felt like a damn construction site when I finally opened my eyes. Heavy-ass headache pounding behind my temples, the kind that comes from too much cheap club liquor mixed with all that stress from last night. I groaned loud, rollin’ over in the soft sheets, my body ache in places I ain’t even know could hurt. Thighs burnin’ from all that grinding and twerking. Ass still tender from that drunk nigga gripping it so damn hard. Pussy low-key throbbing from the naked dance I put on for Ryan by the pole and then switching straight to lap-dancing on the floor like my life depended on it.Clock on the nightstand said 12:17 p.m. Noon? Fuck me. I slept half the damn day away. The apartment smelled good as hell though—onions frying, spices in the air, something savory bubbling on the stove. My stomach growled loud, reminding me I ain’t put nothing real in my body since yesterday.I sat up slow, rubbing my face, then stood up on shaky legs. Grabbed t