“Thank you,” I murmur, taking the shoes from her.
“Off you go,” Dylan says, annoyed with Maeve. “I’ll have Judy show you the ropes, Rodrigo.”
I didn’t give my real name tonight, nor did they ask for any identification. A place this shady doesn’t need a paper trail, especially when they have sex trafficked omegas.
Nodding, I follow Judy to a back area, put on the stupid heels, and swallow hard when I stand. My ankles are going to be so pissed with me.
Maldita sea.
“Think you’ll be able to hack those heels?” Judy snorts. She’s a tall, thin woman with tits that look as if they could topple her. Her lips appear to be permanently twisted in a sneer, and it makes me want to back hand her. “Let’s get you on a pole. Just don’t look like a baby deer caught in the headlights.”
Dear brown, baby Jesus. Please don’t let me have to run in these heels. Please.
Stealing my spine, I take a step forward as she begins to walk away. It takes some effort, but I’m able to walk better if I’m in motion. My butt jiggles with each step, and I can tell my calves will be on fire later.
I have to give all women in the world major props for putting these torture devices on their feet.
I can feel the stares as I walk across the main floor, and it makes my skin crawl. I still walk tall, pretending it doesn’t bother me. These are men who enjoy breaking people. My hands are all I have for weapons, and they’re considered a death sentence because I don’t fight by the rules.
I will cheat, break necks, and kill without fear. My job is to get back to Silva alive.
“Let’s see what you got,” Judy says, pointing to a small stage. Music begins to play, and there’s enough of a beat for me to dance to.
My poor mother would be very unhappy to know that all of her dance lessons in the living room are being used in this way, but I’m here to right a wrong tonight. Maeve never should have been taken while out with her friends.
This is for her.
Stepping up onto the stage, I pull off my shirt with one hand as I walk, tossing it away as I strut.
Eat your heart out, assholes.
Harlan
Watching Isidro dance on the pole, his stomach muscles contracting as he swings around on it has my dick very interested.
“Why are those heels so fucking hot?” Kyren grumbles.
“Focus guys,”Syrus says in my ear. We all heard Izzy’s conversation with the owner in the office, and Syrus also heard his sister’s voice and identified her for us.
Glancing at the stage where “Genevieve” is dancing, I ignore the fact that she’s completely naked.
“Do you see anything you like?” a thin woman with very red lips and huge breasts asks. She's a manager of some kind.
“I do,” I reply, turning slightly toward her. “The girl with all the beautiful brown hair. What’s her name?”
I’m playing dumb because no one is announcing names of dancers as they get up there. It’s obvious that Kyren and I have never been here before, and I’m planning to lean into that.
“Genevieve,” she murmurs. “She’s a favorite at the club. Would you like a dance, or perhaps a private room?”
“My friend and I enjoy darker tastes and enjoy our privacy,” I explain, my lips twisting into a cruel smile. “We’d prefer a private room please.”
“Of course. Let me check to make sure we have something open,” she says.
This is the same woman that led Izzy out of the back room. She doesn’t look very friendly at all.
She's also not very fast at her job. Genevieve’s set ends, and she winds through the different tables to mingle with the patrons. Others are already dancing on laps while naked, sucking cock nearby, or flirting.
Basically, they’re doing what they’re told to do.
