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Rosa's hand froze mid-application, the red lipstick pressed against her lower lip. She slowly lowered it and turned to look at Marie.
"What did you just say?"
"Mafia King Nolan," Marie repeated, shifting nervously. "He requested you specifically."
"He did, huh?" She said and turned her gaze back to the mirror.
Her expression gave nothing away as she applied the lipstick and smacked her lips together. She wiped the corners of her lips with a finger, tilting her head from side to side to make sure it was perfect.
"Should I let him know you'd be there soon?" Marie pressed when she said nothing.
"No," she said. She pulled open the drawer and placed the lipstick inside. "He should request another girl. I'm too exhausted after my performance for a private dance."
Marie’s jaw nearly hit the ground. "What? You’re serious. Franco said—"
"Tell Franco I said no," Rosa cut in, her voice clipped.
Marie's eyes widened. "Rosa, you can't just—"
"I can and I will." Rosa stood up, tightening the coat around her. Her pole heels made her significantly taller than the waitress. "I just finished a set. I'm tired. If he wants a private dance," she made air quotes with her index finger, "he can pick anyone else."
"But Franco said—"
"I heard what you said." Rosa's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "Go tell him."
Marie looked at her in disbelief, opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. She nodded instead and scurried away.
She watched Marie go with a frown on her face. He had no reason to request her. She didn't want to think about it but she knew better than to mess with a Mafia King.
She looked at her appearance in the mirror. She was likely not going to perform for the rest of the night so she could wear something less risqué while she helped the girls.
"Rosa." Franco's voice cut through the dressing room like a knife. He was quick.
She looked up to see him striding toward her, his red fur coat billowing behind him like a cape. His expression was unreadable.
"Franco," she said coolly. "I already told Marie—"
"I heard what you told Marie." He stopped in front of her, crossing his arms. Displeasure creased his face. "Have you lost your mind?"
She winced. "No," she replied. "Tracy is much more suited for private dances and after my performance, I don't think I would do well."
"I don't care what your excuse is. This is the first time Alpha Nolan has visited our club. He has only been here just before your set and he has spent more than everyone else in the club and you want me to give him someone he didn't ask for. Do you want me to lose my life?"
"I don't want to do it."
"Might I ask why?"
"Personal reasons."
Franco looked flabbergasted. "Personal reasons. Rosa, if you had personal reasons, you wouldn't be a stripper."
"I can decline, you know."
"Yes, but with legitimate reasons. You can't decline because you hate Alphas."
"This has nothing to do with him being an Alpha."
Franco sighed. "This is a client, a very important client. I don't care what your beef with him is; all I care about is the money he is worth. That's all you should care about too."
"Aren't you suspicious that he asked for me specifically?"
"No," he said with a stern look. "Your performance was spectacular. You already got at least twenty requests. He paid more."
"Shit!"
"Good to know you've conceded."
"I haven't."
"Go now, you've wasted enough time already."
"I need to change," she said in retaliation.
Franco had been bought; there was nothing she could possibly say to change his mind. Besides, he was right. How was he supposed to tell a Mafia King no?
This is why I don't want to be involved with him.
"No," he said and looked at her from her blue hair to her clear heels. "You're perfect. He may have made some requests."
Rosa blinked. "What do you mean?"
He grabbed her hands and pulled. "You don't have to change."
"Franco, you can't be serious. Under this coat, I only have my pasties and a thong that barely covers my coochie."
"That's perfect!"
"Franco!" She yelled. "How much is he paying you to sell me out like some sex worker?"
He turned to look at her, his expression more serious than she had ever seen. "Enough! Make sure to please him."
"You have no integrity."
"You're right. I don't. Now chop chop. You know how to find your way."
Rosa sighed as she stepped out into the loud music of the club. Three girls were dancing on the pole and the men were excitedly throwing cash at them.
"Rosa," a drunk voice drawled and one of the customers tried to talk to her.
He blocked her path, holding a glass of alcohol that looked about to spill. "Stephen," she said with a patronizing smile. "I hope you're having a lovely time."
"I am but it would be even more wonderful if you joined our booth," he said and gestured with his head to a section in the club.
Rosa didn't even look at the place he was pointing to. "Maybe later. Tell Franco and he will send me over." She winked at him and tried to bypass him but he stubbornly refused to let her through.
"Only a few minutes," he insisted. "Let me introduce you to my friends I brought to the club."
"I wish I could go with you but I am quite busy right now.” She kept her polite smile despite the fact that she was slowly losing her mind.
Rosa always did her best to be professional during work hours. Returning clients were important and how they were treated impacted how much they spent in the club.
"Rosa," he said and took a step forward.
She didn't step back. There was no need to. Just because she was expected to be nice and tolerable, didn't mean she couldn't do anything if customers crossed the line.
Franco approved of retaliation in self-defense. If you couldn't protect yourself, the bouncers were always close to take care of bothersome people.
"What's going on here?" A voice cut in.