Chapter 55 The Damn Match.

Chapter 55 The Damn Match.
~SCARLETT.

I shoved the front door open and stepped into The Velvet Fang, the cool air hitting me square in the face. The lights were low and moody, the bass a slow, steady heartbeat under my feet. A haze of smoke and stage fog filled the air, and the place smelled like cheap cologne, cinnamon vodka, and secrets.

It was barely 3 PM.

Too early for the club to be alive, too late for me to be running on fumes.

My body was wrecked: tired, hungry, and still humming with adrenaline. I hadn't breathed properly since I left my goddamn house with Liam's voice still echoing in my skull.

Who the hell did he think he was?

Showing up like that. Breaking into my house. Demanding answers he had no right to ask for.

Goodbye?

He thought he deserved a goodbye?

I knew he'd show up eventually. I just thought I'd have time, time to build some armor, time to prepare.

Instead, I got a home invasion and a ruined appetite.

And now I had to come here and pretend everything was fine. Smile, sparkle, seduce, while I was running on empty and one wrong word away from a breakdown.

I stepped through the backstage door. A few girls were scattered around, stretching or rehearsing. Blair was on her knees, fixing a strap on her stilettos. Ivy was sipping something green out of a thermos. And Rose, of course, sat on the makeup table like she owned the entire strip club.

Their heads turned the moment I walked in.

Three sets of eyes. Three smug smiles. Like they could smell weakness and were already circling.

Perfect.

"Rough day, princess?" " Rose's voice dripped sugar and venom. "You look like shit."

I didn't even glance her way. Just rolled my eyes and walked straight down the hallway, ignoring the snickers echoing behind me.

My dressing room door opened with a low whine beneath my hand. Stepping in, I exhaled like my lungs had finally been given permission to work.

The room was quiet, still carrying the faint scent of jasmine and lingering perfume. In one corner, a vanity cluttered with makeup kits glowed under round bulbs. A wardrobe stood along the back wall, and my velvet chair waited beside the full-length mirror near the entrance, just like always.

Dropping my bag on the floor, I collapsed into the seat, kicking off my sneakers and resting my face in my hands. My head throbbed. My limbs felt like they were made of wet sand.

I just needed a minute.

Just one goddamn-

The door shoved open.

Of course, it did.

Raising my head, I watched as Rose and Ivy slipped in like they were entitled to be here. Rose's hip cocked out, earrings glinting in the light. Ivy leaned back against the wall, arms folded, her dark braids swinging over one shoulder, neon nails tapping against her bicep like she was bored already.

I let out a sigh. So much for peace.

"What do you want?" I muttered, not bothering to hide my exhaustion. "If you're here to gawk, I'm not on the schedule until later."

"Wow. Grumpy and delusional," Ivy said with a snort.

"She thinks she owns the place now," Rose added, stepping further into the room. "Just 'cause a few geriatrics throw cash at her."

I got up and walked over to the vanity, deliberately turning my back to them. My hands braced against the table, head lowered. I wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Not today.

But silence only fueled Rose.

"Poor little Scarlett," she cooed. "Or is it Red now? Trying so hard to rebrand. Shame you brought the same attitude with you."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Just ignore her. Let her yap.

"She must think those clients keep coming back because she's talented," Ivy chimed in, but her voice was already fading.

I turned, confused for a second to see Ivy gone.

Weird.

But I didn't have time to dwell on it. Because Rose was still there. And now she was stepping closer, her perfume cloying, too sweet and too strong.

"You know," she said with a tilt of her head, "this used to be my club. My spotlight. Then you showed up with your tragic green eyes and sad, homeless vibes, and poof... suddenly, I'm invisible."

I gave her a slow, venom-laced smile. "Oh," I said softly. "That's what this is about."

Her expression faltered.

"You're not mad at me. You're mad no one wants you anymore."

Her jaw clenched so tight, I could see the muscles twitching beneath her flawless skin.

"Don't get it twisted, Rosey. I don't steal clients. They just prefer not to pay for cheap tricks and silicone lies."

"You b!tch!" she snapped, and lunged.

She actually lunged.

I didn't flinch, just stood there with a raised brow, half-daring her to try it. My hands hung relaxed at my sides, the kind of relaxed that only seemed to rattle insecure girls like her even more.

"Go ahead," I said coldly. "Let's see if your hands work better than your mouth."

She was two seconds from losing it when-

"Ladies." Rick's voice thundered through the room like a judge slamming down a gavel. Rose went still. 

He stood in the doorway, wearing a murderous expression.

"She started it," Rose hissed, pointing a manicured claw at me. "She thinks she's better than everyone-"

"Because I am," I muttered without missing a beat.

Rick ignored me. His glare was focused on Rose. "She brings in more cash in one night than you make in a damn month. You think I'm about to let you fight her in her dressing room?"

Rose flinched. I didn't even bat an eyelid because I already knew.

I was untouchable.

Rick ran a hand down his face like we were all just bad choices personified. "Next time you start drama in my club, I dock your pay. Rose, you're already on thin ice."

She opened her mouth to protest.

"Don't test me," he growled, and just like that, silence fell.

Then he looked at me. "A group of college kids came in early. Not packed yet, but they asked for Red. Told them no, you only perform once, at night."

I smirked. He knew the drill.

"One of the boys is celebrating a birthday. Wanted to feel special. Rose, go. Warm 'em up until the real show starts."

Rose blinked. "College kids? Seriously?"

Rick gave her a look that could bend steel. "You want me to call it charity work?"

Ouch. 

She bristled. Her lips parted.

"You're lucky you have a spot here," he snapped. "Try being grateful."

Rose looked like she wanted to scream, but instead, she gave a tight, fake smile and turned to storm off, heels clanking furiously on the floor.

That's when the idea hit me.

She really thought she could walk in here, throw punches with words, and then slink away, like that was the end of it?

Nope.

I leaned against the vanity, casually twirling a strand of red hair around my finger.

"Actually..." I said.

She stopped, already halfway out the door.

"...since Rose clearly doesn't want it, I'll take it."

Both of them turned to me at the same time. Rose looked like she'd been slapped.

"What did you say?" she hissed.

I smiled. "You heard me."

She wanted a fire?

I was the damn match.