I already know that name is going to irritate the hell out of me. There’s just something about calling my bossBig Daddythat makes my skin crawl.
Mariah gives me one last wink, her full glossy lips gleaming as her nods her head. “Go own it, girl.”
I draw in a deep breath, my heart pounding in rhythm with the bass creeping through the floor. My heels click against the scratched polished floor, and the lights bright and hot against my skin. At first, everything feels too loud—the bass pounding so aggressively through the floor, I can’t even hear myself think.
It can’t be more than fifteen people here, but it feels like every single pair of eyes is on me.
I spot Lexi and Mariah front and center at the edge of the stage, waving stacks of bills like banners, their smiles mirroring proud sisters cheering me on. Their energy cuts through my nerves like a lifeline, a reminder that I’m not completely alone.
I take a tentative step, sliding my hand up the pole near the center of the stage. My hips sway lightly as I bend one knee, testing myself—each movement careful. My heart thuds so hard I’m sure they can hear it over the music.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the full mirror lining the back wall. I turn slowly and freeze for a second, caught off guard by my own reflection.
Damn, I look good.
The thought anchors me. I roll my shoulders back, arch just enough, and let my fingers slide down my thigh. The crowd whistles, and I realize—I’m not just surviving this. I’m steering it.
My body moves on its own—hips rolling, hair flipping back, fingers tracing the lines that used to be private.
I’m not performing for them anymore, I’m performing for her—the woman in the mirror who finally looks like she knows what she’s worth. The music wraps around me, the bass thumping through the floor, through my veins, until I’m not following the rhythm—I am the rhythm. The crowd reacts with every move, voices rising, bills fluttering toward the stage like confetti. All ten of them is somehow making it feel like the place is more packed then it truly is.
For once, I don’t shrink from the attention. I feed off it. Every glance, every cheer feels like proof that I belong here.
I let the thin fabric slip from my shoulders, my chest catching the heat of the stage lights. I toss my top aside, tilting my head back as I roll my body, making a show of it. The song fades, blending seamlessly into the start of the next track. That’s when the manager’s words hit me again—fully naked by the second song.
My breath alters for just a second, but then I exhale, remembering last night—how Cairo watched me undress, his eyes never leaving mine. I mirror that memory now, channeling the same confidence, slipping my fingers under the thin string of my thong and easing it down inch by inch.
The cheers continue as I let the lingerie slide down my legs, holding it in my hand for a beat before tossing it to the side with a flick of my wrist. Now, under the blinding lights, with nothing but my heels and my dignity, I move effortlessly, my body syncing with the beat without hesitation.
Lexi and Mariah scream my stage name like I’m a celebrity, tossing their bills into the air and letting it rain down around me. A group of men break from their tables, crowding the edge of the stage, bills ready in their hands. Money hits the stage floor, followed by eager smiles. Everyeye stays locked on me as I bend to scoop up the money, turning every motion into part of the show.
My heart races, the nerves dissolving into something warm and electric. Control hums through my veins, power buzzing beneath my skin as I move. Every cheer, every shout wraps around me, filling the room and my chest until I feel larger than myself.
I turn, catching the mirror behind me one last time, tossing my hair over my shoulder as the crowd erupts louder. As the second song builds to its end, the cheers chase me down to the last beat while I crouch to gather the scattered bills, my heels clicking proudly against the floor. With the money tucked in one hand and ego burning hotter than the lights, I step offstage and head straight for the locker room.
The room is buzzing the second I step inside, my heels clicking against the tile, my hands full of my lingerie and crumpled bills.
“Lolli!” Lexi practically hollers, clapping so hard, I know her hands will be red for the rest of the night. “Girl, you killed it! I was ready to throw my whole stack up there.”
Mariah’s right behind her, scooping a few stray bills from my arms. “Don’t play—if that was your first time, I’m retiring. You moved like youbeenrunning this stage.”
A couple of the other dancers crowd around, their outfits glittering under the vanity lights. One slips a folded bill into my hand with a grin, another fanning herself dramatically. “Baby, you sure you ain’t lying? That was smoother than half the regular girls here.”
“Mm-hmm, she came in here acting all shy and now she’s about to leave with everybody’s rent money.” Their voices blur together and for once, I let myself bask in the limelight. My cheeks stay flushed, adrenaline still coursing, but my confidence is settling in.
The door opens, and the same woman I saw behind the bar earlier steps in. “Manager wants to see you,” she says simply, giving me a quick once-over before the door closes behind her.
I grab the white silk robe from my bag, slipping it on and tying the sash tight. Like it even matters—he already saw me naked out there.
I head toward his office, the click of my heels echoing off the hard floor. When I step inside, he’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, studying me with that same sharp, unreadable expression he had earlier.
“You did good, Lolli,” he says, with a lazy grin that sends chills down my spine. “Really good. Didn’t expect a rookie to move like that.”
Relief rushes through me, my shoulders loosening as I exhale. “Guess I’m a natural,” I say, giving him a slight smile.
His eyes flick lower, to where the robe ties loosely around my waist. “That tattoo on your lower back—what’s it mean? Infinity sign, right?” That mean you got endless energy… or you’re endless trouble?”
I laugh under my breath, tilting my head. “Depends who’s asking.”
