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“What are you doing?” There’s confusion in her voice.

I check myself out in the wall mirror, spinning to get a look at the bit of bum peeking out from under the skirt.

Perfect.

I want to test him, but I don’t want to push him too much.

“You minx.”

The boom of the music carries from the main floor, the quiet chatter and giggling from the girls filling the room—and I soak it all in.

For the final time.

“Good luck.” Corrine winks before I hug her one more time. Then, taking a deep breath and admiring myself in the mirror, I make my way to the back of the stage, where the crowd is already rowdy.

The tech guy smiles at me, as if he too knows that this is the last time I’ll be on the stage.

But this doesn’t feel as constraining as I thought it would. It feels liberating—giving myself over to someone willingly. That someone being Xander.

All The Time by Jeremih floods through the speakers, and the screen lifts slower than usual—just like I asked.

From this angle, I can already see Xander tensely sitting in the middle chair in front of the stage. Jacques is next to him, an amused smile resting on his face as he watches Xander.

The screen rises fully, and Xander’s eyes are locked on mine.

Filled with fury. Just as expected.

But he’s as still as a statue as Jacques smacks him on the arm, finding this entire situation amusing.

There are no other chairs around the stage. Just Xander’s, with Jacques perched on the armrest. Everyone else occupies tables and VIP booths further away. Jacques’ ordered it that way, like I asked him to.

I begin my slow walk up to the pole, a small smile playing on my lips as I mimic the routine I danced when Xander first laid eyes on me. Only more covered up.

Xander’s shirt looks like it’s about to rip open with how his chest heaves, fingers pressed to his jaw, nostrils flaring, and the whisky glass in his hand close to shattering.

This is torture for him.

I make a show of grinding, touching, and shaking my ass. All the while maintaining eye contact with Xander. Jacques has a smirk plastered on his face, but he keeps his attention focused on his phone as Xander squirms in his seat.

My chest burns with the satisfaction of him wanting to rip me off the stage, knowing that he can’t. He knows this is a test.

The song ends. No money flies in the air, but the crowd cheers. Less rowdier than before. Also Jacques’ orders.

I lock my eyes onto Xander before sauntering off stage, soaking in the last of the cheers.

My heart races as I sit on the edge of the bed inside DL with my green bodysuit now on display, the low hum of music from the main floor of the club still prominent.

City lights illuminate the room, accompanied by the low glow of the viridian light above the pole Xander had installed for me.

Have I pissed him off?

Why isn’t he coming up?

A bitter taste forms in my throat, squeezing at me. I thought this would help us move forward. Maybe dancing on stage in front of everyone was a grave mistake. Maybe I did take it too far.

The chains rattle in my hands as my leg bounces nervously, the metal now warm from how long I’ve been clutching it in my hands.

Then the handle to the bedroom clicks open, and my heart stutters. Xander’s formidable frame steps into the room, locking the door behind him. With only the green glow, it’s hard to make out any of his features, but the weight of his gaze on me is always luculent.