Chapter 77

Chapter 77
Cindy's POV

One Year Later
I stared at myself in the mirror, and for a moment, I didn't recognize the woman looking back at me. Her hair was short and black, cut in a sharp bob that framed her face. Her eyes were lined with thick black makeup, and her lips were painted blood red. She wore a glittery black dress that barely covered her thighs, and her legs were wrapped in sheer pantyhose that caught the light.
This woman was Sasha. And Sasha was me now.
Cindy was dead. The girl with long hair who wore modest dresses and went to church every Sunday had died somewhere in Big Jim's office a year ago. What stood in her place was someone I barely knew, someone I had to become to survive.
I picked up my lipstick and added another coat of red to my lips. Tonight was the club's anniversary celebration, and I had to look perfect. I had to be perfect. Because that's what Big Jim expected from his top earner.
The thought made my stomach twist, but I pushed it down. I had gotten good at pushing down feelings over the past year.
"Sasha," Maria's voice came from behind me, soft and worried. "Are you ready?"
I turned around to see her standing in the doorway of my apartment. She looked older than she had a year ago, and there were lines around her eyes that hadn't been there before. Sarah stood behind her, holding a glass of water for me.
"Almost," I said, checking my reflection one more time. "How do I look?"
"Beautiful," Sarah said quietly, but I could see the sadness in her eyes. "You always look beautiful."
I wanted to tell her that beautiful wasn't what I was going for. I was going for danger. I was going for untouchable. I was going for the kind of woman who could dance on stage while men threw money at her and never let them see that she was dying inside.
But I didn't say any of that. Instead, I smiled and took the water from Sarah's hands.
"Thank you," I said, and meant it. Maria and Sarah had been the only bright spots in this dark year. They took care of me, cooked for me, and never once made me feel ashamed of what I had to do to keep us all safe.
I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a piece of gum, popping it into my mouth. It had become a habit over the past year. The constant chewing helped me focus, helped me forget where I was and what I was doing.
"The car is waiting downstairs," Maria said. "Big Jim wants all the girls ready by eight."
I nodded and grabbed my purse. Inside was everything I needed for tonight - more lipstick, breath mints, and the small knife John had given me all those months ago. I never went anywhere without it, even though I hoped I'd never have to use it.
As we walked down the hallway of the apartment building, I caught glimpses of the other girls getting ready. There was Luna, who had been here for three years paying off her brother's gambling debt. There was Crystal, whose mother needed expensive medical treatment. There was Angel, who had been sold here by her own boyfriend.
We all had stories. We all had reasons for being here. And we all had learned to survive in our own ways.
The elevator took us down to the lobby, where a black car was waiting. The driver held the door open for us, and I slid into the leather seat. Maria and Sarah sat across from me, both wearing simple black dresses. They would be serving drinks tonight while I performed.
As the car pulled away from the building, I stared out the window at the city lights. Somewhere out there, people were living normal lives. They were going to dinner with their families, watching movies with their boyfriends, and planning for their futures.
I used to be one of those people. But that felt like a lifetime ago.
"Do you ever think about them?" Sarah asked quietly.
"Who?" I asked, though I already knew what she meant.
"Your family. Your parents."
I was quiet for a long moment. The truth was, I did think about them. Every day. But not in the way Sarah probably expected.
"I think about how they never came looking for me," I said finally. "It's been a year, and not once has Big Jim mentioned them trying to find me. Not once has anyone called or sent a message."
My voice was harder than I meant it to be, but I couldn't help it. The anger had been building inside me for months.
"Maybe they don't know where to look," Maria said gently.
"Or maybe they don't want to know," I replied. "Maybe they're relieved that their problem daughter is finally gone."
The car went quiet. I could feel Maria and Sarah exchanging looks, but I didn't care. I was tired of making excuses for people who had clearly given up on me.
"And my father," I continued, the words pouring out now like water through a broken dam. "He's the reason I'm here. His debts brought me here, and the fact that he is acting like he doesn’t care makes me hate him for it."
I had never said those words out loud before, but they felt true. The sweet, forgiving church girl who would have prayed for her father's soul was gone. In her place was someone who understood that sometimes, hate was easier than love.
"Cindy," Maria said softly.
"That's not my name," I snapped. "My name is Sasha. Cindy is dead, isn't she? She died the day John left and never came back."
The mention of his name made my chest tighten, but I forced myself to continue.
"I waited for him," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "Even after everything, even after Fiona told me he was gone, I kept waiting. I kept thinking he would come back and save me. But he didn't. He left me here to rot."
I wiped away a tear that had escaped despite my best efforts. My makeup was waterproof, but I couldn't afford to look weak tonight.
"So I stopped waiting," I said, my voice steady again. "I stopped being the girl who needed saving. I learned how to save myself."
And it was true. Over the past year, I have become someone completely different. I had learned how to fight, how to shoot, how to drive. I had learned how to read people, how to spot danger, how to protect myself. I had learned how to dance in a way that made men throw money at me while keeping them at arm's length.
I had become strong. But I had also become hard.
The car pulled up to the club, and I could see the flashing lights and hear the music already starting. Tonight would be like every other night - I would put on a show, collect my money, and go home to my empty apartment.
But tonight felt different somehow. Maybe it was because it was the anniversary. Maybe it was because I had finally admitted out loud how much I had changed.
As I stepped out of the car, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window. The woman staring back at me looked confident, dangerous, and completely in control. She looked like someone who could handle anything.
I just wish I felt as strong as I looked.
"Ready?" I asked Maria and Sarah, straightening my shoulders.
They nodded, and together we walked toward the club entrance. The bouncer nodded at me respectfully - I was one of Big Jim's favorites now, and everyone knew it.
Inside, the club was already packed with men in expensive suits. The music was loud, the lights were bright, and the air smelled like expensive cologne and whiskey.
This was my world now. This was my life.
I popped my gum, checked my lipstick one more time, and walked toward the stage. Tonight, just like every night for the past year, Sasha would give them a show they'd never forget.
And somewhere deep inside, the ghost of Cindy would whisper a prayer that maybe, someday, she could find her way back to the light.
But for now, this was enough. This was survival.
And survival was all I had left.