While the eyes watching me don’t necessarily make me feel uncomfortable, I can’t allow my guard to slip.
There is too much at stake.
I just want to know who it is and why they are following me.
A part of me suspects that it is Victor.
Yet, that doesn’t feel possible.
He wouldn’t have followed me all the way to my home would he?
Surely not.
My jaw drops the second I walk into The Throbbing Knot.
Gone is the tacky red carpet that had been nearly devoured by carpet worms (it's a real thing, I googled it) and in its place is a black wooden flooring that elevates the look of the room.
The worn leather couches have been replaced with couches that look ridiculously comfortable. The main stage remains in the same spot but it is clear it has been renovated, making it actually look inviting.
Two new poles on smaller platforms have been added to either side of the main stage. Low lying leather couches surround each pole making it the perfect spot for us to dance while we are waiting for a private or stage set.
The bar has also received an impressive face lift. Rows and rows of shelves behind the bar are completely stocked with some of the best alcohol that money can buy. I have never been a big drinker but I know that some of those bottles of whiskey are priced in the hundreds.
What also comes as a shock is the fact that Ben isn’t the only security guard on the floor. Four more men, equally as big as each other stand around the room, watching each of us as we stand in a mixture of shock, awe and excitement.
I step further in the room, walking over to the stage that is clear of gouges and scrapes from years of high heel abuse.
It is a dream to work in a club like this. For the club to not make us feel like our job is dirty. To have a space to work that is clean and elevated. Where we can be respected for our work versus criticized.
“Afternoon, ladies. Thank you so much for coming in early. Welcome back to The Throbbing Knot. I hope you guys like the changes that we have made over the past few days.”
The familiar voice has me shooting around to where I hear it behind me. My mouth drops in shock as I stare in disbelief at the three men that have been haunting me for the past few days.
Victor, Conall and Olis.
The three Alphas that have consumed my every waking thought are my new bosses.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It all makes sense now as to why I stumbled into Conall in the hallway on Sunday night. I was too flustered to have given it a second thought but now I know better.
What is even more surprising is the fact that Olis is standing with Conall and Victor. It's clear that they are a pack. They have this airabout them that makes it clear they formed while they were younger. Like each of the men knows what the other is going to do before they even do it.
That kind of relationship is both fascinating and fucking insane to me.
I couldn’t imagine becoming that accustomed to having known someone that long that I would know each of their tells.
Although, there is a small part of my brain that wishes that I could have that. Even once.
I disregard the thought before I even allow it to blossom.
Pack life isn’t for me.
Those motherfuckers ensured that.
Victor continues to talk to the group as I continue to stare daggers into the side of his head.
The asshole knows that I am staring at him too yet he doesn’t give me the time of day, unlike his twin who is smiling at me, near begging for my attention.
