Chapter 77 Chapter 77
Chapter 77
Nina’s POV
Angel stepped back like nothing happened. Her smile came back sweet and easy. She clapped her hands once. Sharp. “Girls, get to work and make some fucking damn millions.”
The room moved again. Like someone flipped a switch. Makeup brushes picked up. Heels clicked. Laughter started up. The girl who had been kissing Angel wiped her mouth and grabbed a glitter bottle. The one on the floor stood up slow. Adjusted her top. Walked to the mirror like the last minute never existed.
I stood there. Hand still warm from where she pressed it. Thighs slick from her. Heart beating too fast. But I didn’t freeze long. I turned around quick. Reached for the cigar in the pierced guy’s fingers. He raised an eyebrow. I took it anyway. Brought it to my lips. Took a long drag.
Smoke filled my lungs. Burned. I coughed once. Small. Then exhaled slow. The taste was bitter. Strong. But it steadied me.
The guy chuckled low. “That’s the spirit. You can have it. Have fun.”
He walked out. Door clicked shut behind him.
I stayed standing. Smoking. Cigar between my fingers. Felt strange. Heavy. But good. Like I took something back.
Angel watched me. Smiled wider. “The wine will help more.”
She pointed to the corner. Small bar set up in the dressing room. Bottles of vodka. Red wine. Champagne. Glasses lined up clean. Ice bucket sweating.
I looked at it. Wanted it. Bad. The cold burn would calm my nerves. But I shook my head. “Okay. But I want to stay alert.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself. First night. You’ll learn.”
I took another drag. Smoke curled up. Watched it twist toward the ceiling lights. My mind worked fast. Angel talked about a “Boss” earlier. Vertical Boss. Whatever that meant. She knew things. And the way she threatened me. The way she touched me. She was my first suspect. Someone who heard whispers. Someone close to the money. To the drive.
I needed to talk. Listen. Blend.
Two girls walked in. Sweaty. Giggling. Makeup smudged but still pretty. One had green glitter all over her chest. The other held bundles of hundred-dollar bills. Stuffed in her bra. In her garter. They peeled them out. Counted quick. Laughed when they saw the numbers.
I stepped closer. Smiled. “Hi girls. I’m Sunshine.”
They stopped. Looked at me. Up and down. Slow.
One snorted. “Terrible name.”
The other said something in Russian. Sharp. Mean. I didn’t catch the words but the tone was clear. Insult. They laughed again. Turned away. Kept counting cash. Talking fast. Ignoring me.
I stood there. Alone again.
Angel and her friends were gone. Vanished into the noise outside. No one told me when to go on stage. No one told me anything.
I walked out of the dressing room. Coat left behind. Silver outfit shining under the hallway lights. Heels clicked loud. Necklace and earrings felt heavy. I knew what they were. Audio tracker. Tiny camera. Nikolai’s work. Every step I took. Every word I said. They heard. They saw.
I moved through the club. Past private booths. Curtains half open. Men laughing. Girls on laps. Hands under skirts. Money changing hands. I kept my face calm. Bored. Like Enzo taught me. Russian girls don’t smile like goats.
I walked deeper. Past the main stage. Dancers spinning on poles. Chandeliers swinging with girls hanging from them. Money raining. Green bills floating slow like leaves.
I turned a corner. Found a hallway. Narrow. Darker. Door at the end marked “Storage.” I pushed it open.
Inside smelled like cardboard and dust. Boxes stacked high. Old bottles. Broken chairs. Then another door. Exit sign above it. Red. Glowing.
My heart jumped.
I stepped closer. Pushed the bar. Door cracked open. Cool night air rushed in. Freedom. Close.
Then I heard boots. Heavy. Outside.
I peeked.
Two bodyguards. Tall. Wide. Guns on hips. Black vests. Walking slow. Patrolling.
Shit.
I pulled back fast. Door clicked shut. Quiet.
No running tonight.
I turned. Walked back. Cigar still in my hand. Almost gone. I took one last drag. Crushed it under my heel.
Kept moving.
Found a narrow path. Red carpet thick under my heels. Sign on the wall. “X.”
Curiosity pulled me.
I reached for the handle.
Door opened.
Angel stepped out.
She froze. Looked at me. Eyes narrowed.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
I smiled awkward. Took a fake drag on the dead cigar. “Just looking around.”
She grabbed it from my fingers. Threw it on the floor. “Follow me. You need to be on stage, you bitch. Must I teach you everything? No one even appreciates me around here.”
Her voice cracked on the last part. Angry. Sudden mood swing.
She grabbed my wrist. Hard. Dragged me back through the hallway. Nails dug in a little.
I didn’t fight. Let her pull me.
Backstage. Dark. Smelled like sweat and perfume. Girls rushing past. Music louder here. Bass shaking the floor.
She pushed me toward the curtain. Hard.
No warning.
Stage lights hit me. Bright. White. Blinding.
I stumbled out.
The stage looked like a cage. Black metal bars around the edge. Pole in the center. Chrome shining. Crowd below. Men in suits. Eyes up. Hungry.
Music changed. Slow beat. Heavy.
Spotlight found me.
I stood there. Heart in my throat. Legs shaking.
Panicking.
The lights were too bright. The bars too close. The men too many.
I started panicking when the stage started moving upwards and I lost my balance and fell on the floor and it was so embarrassing because I heard a collective gasp from the men.
“What the fuck was that ?”
“Is that some kind of role play ?”
“I will thrust my shaft behind her in that position. Raw and doggy”
“I hope Angel and the Boss are not losing their standards “
“This is going to be so fun “ someone brought out his phone but. A bodyguard appeared and collected it.
“No phones allowed”