“The pleasure is entirely mine. . . Violet? Or would you prefer Alexis? Though I am rather fond ofgatita.”
Did he just call me a kitten?I blushed, unable to ignore this man’s magnetic pull. Heat crept up my neck, staining my cheeks. “Either is fine.” I paused, reconsidering. “Actually, Violet. I would prefer to reserve Alexis exclusively for my clients.”
Damien nodded, accepting my boundary without complaint. His amber eyes—and they were genuinely amber, like honey backlit by sunlight—surveyed the desk where my half-completed paperwork lay scattered. He made no comment about the unfinished state.
“You are welcome to use whatever name you wish while within these walls,gatita. I offer you my most genuine gratitude for choosing our fine establishment.”
I hung onto every word that came from his mouth. His voice had a timbre and lilt that set my core quivering, unable to look away. What was wrong with me?
I realized Iwasstaring at him and that he was waiting for me to say something. “Oh, uh. . . well, it wasn’t much of a choice. I simply need supplemental income.” The words tumbled out before I could filter them.
“Oh?” He tilted his head, curiosity sharpening his features.
And suddenly I was fumbling, scrambling to recover. “Not to imply this establishment is anything less than exceptional for employment. I’m genuinely excited to work here. Jules is amazing, and—"
As if summoned by her name, Jules swept back into the room and stopped abruptly upon seeing Damien. Her demeanor shifted from casual to deferential as she said, “I did not realize you had returned already. I would have greeted you properly.” Despite her precarious heels, her steps quickened as she hurried to stand beside me.
He waved a hand with elegant dismissal, continuing his assessment of my paperwork. “It is of no consequence. So, this Violet. . . she is the one you spoke so highly of?” His eyes found mine again, and I squirmed under that penetrating gaze—as if he could see through flesh and bone straight into my soul.
“Yes,” Jules said as she placed a hand on my shoulder. It was a maternal gesture that caught me off guard. “Honestly, her skill on the stage nearly rivals my own.”
I knew I was good—you didn’t survive years of forced performance without developing exceptional skills—and while the validation felt gratifying, I was stunned by her admission. I recalled from my first life how breathtaking Jules had been on the stage. Sheliterallytaught me everything I knew about the pole.
He acknowledged what she’d said with a slight nod, then placed my paperwork down with careful precision. “That is good to hear. As long as she is an employee of Oubliette, she will have my protection.”
The words settled over me like a weighted blanket—comfort and confinement in equal measure.
Jules squeezed my shoulder as she said, “I will ensure it is known throughout Oubliette.” She paused, something flickering across her features. “And the one she arrived with?”
Damien gave the smallest shrug. “Am I expected to be hiring him as well? Is he meant to serve as Romeo’s partner at the front door?”
Suddenly, I felt as if I were trapped in the middle of a negotiation—Damien as the boss, Jules as the consigliere, leaving Rowan and I as nothing more than assets being discussed like property. While I appreciated Jules’s support, I refused to let Rowan suffer any consequences for my choices.
I cleared my throat. “May I interrupt?”
Both sets of piercing eyes turned to me, amber and cerulean, and I willed myself to remain steady beneath their combined scrutiny.
“Given Shademore’s current predicament, Rowan—my friend—will want to accompany me during my shifts here.”
When he spoke, Damien’s voice carried a polite curiosity undercut with steel. “And this becomes a concern of mine. . . in what way, precisely?”
I pushed forward, knowing full well this could destroy my entire plan. But after Rowan’s stubborn display of protectiveness, I couldn’t simply discard him. He would march straight to Daddy, and then I would have much larger problems than negotiating with the proprietor of a gentleman’s club.
“It isn’t a concern. He is merely providing security.” I chose my words carefully, building my argument. “It will not interfere with my dancing, and honestly, since I have no intention of offering private dances, I anticipate my evenings will be relatively brief. In and out, efficient and professional.”
I was gambling everything on this negotiation. I knew from observing other dancers that one-on-one sessions were optional—an additional revenue stream rather than a requirement. After enduring years of assault in my previous life, I possessed zero interest in having strangers touch me, regardless of compensation.
Except with certain people, noting how neither Jules nor Rowan’s contact triggered my usual panic response.
I filed that observation away for later analysis.
Damien contemplated my words, his expression unreadable. Finally, he directed his scrutinizing gaze to Jules. “She is nearly on par with your skills, you said?”
Jules glanced at him and nodded, her fingers squeezing my shoulder once more. “With time and proper training, I believe she will surpass me.”
I gaped at her as my words tumbled out unchecked. “There is absolutely no way I could ever match you.”
She looked down at me with the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. “How would you know? You’ve never even seen me dance, girl.”
