Chapter Four

Evelyn’s POV

I was silent and unmoving for moments in the face of his threats. How dare he, I raged inside my head. How dare he threaten me when I am already this angry at him? Did he think he could intimidate me?

Then I remembered the manager’s words.

I had to please Antonio Bernoti, or I would be in danger. My job would be busy, and I would have no source of income anymore. On top of it, I didn’t want to think about what effects angering a mob boss more than I had already done would have.

But Antonio acted first, and I was at his mercy.

The way his thumbs slid over my nipples, so calloused and rough, sent sparks of heat shooting down my abdomen.

I hissed, arching my back into his touch unwittingly. It just felt good despite my not wanting it to. My body felt like it was trembling, and I struggled to keep myself grounded by remembering the bruised face of my boyfriend. This man was dangerous, I thought. More harmful than any other man I had ever met. More hazardous that Charlie couldn’t even protect me from.

“Continue dancing, Eve,” the man said, his hands still roving over my body. I tried to move but found myself only able to grind lewdly on his lap. It was so damn embarrassing, and I hated it. I slowed down a bit, glaring at him as he smirked, and his eyes were so unreadable. “I said continue. Don't stop for a second. You are here to serve me, are you not?”

I began to move, or more like, grind myself on his lap. Unfortunately, his grip on my body didn’t allow for more. I tried to withstand the way his touch brought shivers to me.

Then, it was his mouth.

“Oh,” I moaned, despite myself. The feeling of a warm, wet tongue teasingly touching the peaks of my breasts was too much to bear. My desire was awakened.

“Hmm, I love the way you sound, Mi Cara.” His hands over my waist tugged me to rest on him even more, and I began to feel an ache between my thighs as he caressed me. I was reeling; I was dizzy with his touch.

“Very good,” he said and then chuckled. I was immediately taken back to the front of the club to how he chuckled at me when I snapped at him upon seeing my boyfriend, who was bruised and on the ground due to his men’s beatings.

I felt cold wash over me, and I jerked away from him, hissing as his teeth grazed over my nipple and shifted back. I could see more clearly from his grasp and his hands now.

“What do you think you are doing? Are you insane?” I snapped at him this time, my rage rising. Had he just tried to sleep with me?

“We have a no-touching policy in this club,” I said.

The man only laughed, shaking his head.

“Of course, you would say that now that I have already done so. Tell me, Eve. What do you want? Money? A car? A house? I can give it to you.” His voice was smooth and pleasing, but it didn’t faze me.

“There is nothing you can give me that would let you sleep with me,” I retorted. “I am not a prostitute,” I raised my voice. “Just because you think you can throw money at me doesn't mean I will sleep with you. I’m not that kind of girl. This is a strip club, not a damn brothel, Mr Bernoti. And you would do well to remember that.”

I stormed off, not caring anymore. I rushed to the dressing room, feeling eyes trail on me. The skin around my nipple still stung in such a way that it left tingles down my back. Even in the excellent air of the dressing room, I felt it. I palmed it, trying to ease the feeling.

“Damn it,” I cursed in the empty dressing room.

I tried my best to calm down, standing there in nothing save for my panties and nothing else. I realized too late that I had left the bra of the set in the VVIP room with that... that monster. And it was an expensive set, too; I mourned silently before walking over to my locker and removing my regular clothes. I will leave for home early tonight. I didn't care what else happened. My main performance was done anyway. Whatever tips this man would leave me, if he would even leave any for me, wasn't worth the shame and humiliation he had brought upon me.

I left the dressing room, wanting to go through the back door as usual, when one of the girls called out my name.

“Eve?” I turned to her, and she handed me an envelope. “A man asked me to give you this.”

I took the envelope, turning it over. It felt complete, and I thought it was full of singles. “Who gave it?” I asked her, but she only shook her head and shrugged.

“I don’t know who the guy is. I only followed instructions. He gave me a good tip, too,” she smirked and flashed the wad of cash in her hands.

I huffed, tucking the envelope into my bag and thanking her before leaving.

I opened the bag to check the envelope only in the early morning hours when I got home.

I gaped at its contents.

These weren't $1 notes.

I took out one of the $100 notes with a gasp.

After I finished counting everything, my head was dizzy.

Fifty thousand dollars!!

This envelope that had been given to me was full of more money than I had ever seen in one place. Even for a stripper like me, the most I expected to make in a day was about three to five thousand dollars. Not freaking fifty!!

My heart pounded in my chest as I sat on the floor limply, still holding the envelope in my hand.

Despite my low upbringing, one of the things I learned a long time ago was that nothing was gotten for free in this world. Whoever had given me this was wealthy enough to give away that amount without blinking.

Who had given me this? And what did they want in exchange?