Page 2
Story: The Bratva's Captive
I’ll never catch up.With this additional rent to pay, I wasn’t even sure how long I’d be able to maintain staying afloat in this rut I was stuck in.
When I entered the back of the club and saw the bright red hair of a fellow dancer who was most friendly with me here, I approached her. It wasn’t wise to look at any of these dancers as friends. This business was too cut-throat. Too competitive. But Nevaeh was kinder than the others.
“Hey, girl,” I greeted as I reached her on her way toward the dressing rooms.
“Hey.” She turned, giving me a long face.
I laughed once. “Wejustgot here. How can you be so glum already?” She didn’t enjoy stripping any more than I did, but earning money was something that brightened our spirits. It’d make anyone happier.
“Nicky’s telling me that I gotta make more money.” She pouted with that response about her boyfriend. “He wants to cut his hours and doesn’t wanna give up his car, so now I have to take over his car payments.”
I raised my brows. With her, I didn’t censor my judgment. Unlike how I was careful not to wade into an argument with my neighbor, I felt free to give Nevaeh my opinion. “You can’t be serious.Youhave to pay forhiscar?”
She groaned. “I know it sounds bad?—”
“That is bad. He’s using you!”
“Not really.”
I shook my head, opening the door that led to the hallway of dressing rooms. “No. Itisbad. He’s using you for a place to stay. Food, now his car? Why is he cutting hours?”
“So he can play more on his gaming system.”
It was my turn to groan. “The gaming systemyoubought him.”
“Look, I don’t wanna hear it. It’s different with us.” She tipped her chin up, stubborn.
“How?” I gave her a dull, expectant look, curious how she could be this stupid.
“How?” She smiled. “It’s different cuz we love each other. Unlike you and Derick.”
If she wanted to try to compare her lazy, greedy boyfriend with my ex, she’d lose that argument in two seconds. The main difference was that I kicked Derick out of my life, whereas she’d never see the light and lose the guy who treated her like a sugar mama.
“I just need to make a little more money for a while,” she concluded, pulling her hair back into a ponytail so we could start on our makeup.
“You need more money?” Lenny, the manager in charge of this shift, asked. He slowed down in his stroll along the hallway, checking that all the dancers were getting ready. In reality, the beer-bellied old perv was busy eye-fucking us all, but that wasn’t anything new. “Because you know you can always get bonuses for extras, sweet pea.”
I shuddered at his sleazy voice. He’d mentioned that opportunity before, but I wanted nothing to do with the bonuses or extras he was suggesting.
Some of the dancers did private parties for those bonus shifts. They were primarily events here at the club or at party houses for VIPs. But since many of those VIPs were members of the Mafia or the gangs that held power all over New York, I never, ever got involved with them.
My goal was to never be controlled by a man again. Derick showed me how hellish that experience could be. And those VIPS wereallabout power and control.
“How about no thank you?” I muttered under my breath as I gathered my long, wavy hair back into a bun for my makeup.
Nevaeh laughed at my remark, knowing full well how cautious I was to avoid those VIPs. But she gave Lenny a sweet smile and shake of her head. “Ah, no. Thanks, but no thanks. Nicky doesn’t want me to take on those bonuses.”
See? He’s controlling you by expecting you to pay for his shit, and he’s more controlling to tell you what you can and can’t do!
Once Lenny shrugged and walked off, Nevaeh lowered the wattage of her smile. “Yeah, right. Nicky wouldn’t have to ever know how I made more money. But I’m not going to risk getting knocked up or sold.”
“Huh?” Confused, I stared at her for a moment. I’d heard—and seen—the dancers who thought they could make some good cash by letting someone fuck them in a private room. And then they’d get pregnant. But sold? “Who’s getting sold around here?”
Nevaeh shrugged as she got busy applying her makeup. “I still know some of the former dancers. The ones who used to work here, but they were sold to VIPs.”
“Like their permanent private dancers?” I got my things out, holding back a yawn at the daunting idea of having to go through all the makeup for another long night.
“No.” Nevaeh huffed. “Sometimes, I forget you used to be an innocent small-town girl.”
When I entered the back of the club and saw the bright red hair of a fellow dancer who was most friendly with me here, I approached her. It wasn’t wise to look at any of these dancers as friends. This business was too cut-throat. Too competitive. But Nevaeh was kinder than the others.
“Hey, girl,” I greeted as I reached her on her way toward the dressing rooms.
“Hey.” She turned, giving me a long face.
I laughed once. “Wejustgot here. How can you be so glum already?” She didn’t enjoy stripping any more than I did, but earning money was something that brightened our spirits. It’d make anyone happier.
“Nicky’s telling me that I gotta make more money.” She pouted with that response about her boyfriend. “He wants to cut his hours and doesn’t wanna give up his car, so now I have to take over his car payments.”
I raised my brows. With her, I didn’t censor my judgment. Unlike how I was careful not to wade into an argument with my neighbor, I felt free to give Nevaeh my opinion. “You can’t be serious.Youhave to pay forhiscar?”
She groaned. “I know it sounds bad?—”
“That is bad. He’s using you!”
“Not really.”
I shook my head, opening the door that led to the hallway of dressing rooms. “No. Itisbad. He’s using you for a place to stay. Food, now his car? Why is he cutting hours?”
“So he can play more on his gaming system.”
It was my turn to groan. “The gaming systemyoubought him.”
“Look, I don’t wanna hear it. It’s different with us.” She tipped her chin up, stubborn.
“How?” I gave her a dull, expectant look, curious how she could be this stupid.
“How?” She smiled. “It’s different cuz we love each other. Unlike you and Derick.”
If she wanted to try to compare her lazy, greedy boyfriend with my ex, she’d lose that argument in two seconds. The main difference was that I kicked Derick out of my life, whereas she’d never see the light and lose the guy who treated her like a sugar mama.
“I just need to make a little more money for a while,” she concluded, pulling her hair back into a ponytail so we could start on our makeup.
“You need more money?” Lenny, the manager in charge of this shift, asked. He slowed down in his stroll along the hallway, checking that all the dancers were getting ready. In reality, the beer-bellied old perv was busy eye-fucking us all, but that wasn’t anything new. “Because you know you can always get bonuses for extras, sweet pea.”
I shuddered at his sleazy voice. He’d mentioned that opportunity before, but I wanted nothing to do with the bonuses or extras he was suggesting.
Some of the dancers did private parties for those bonus shifts. They were primarily events here at the club or at party houses for VIPs. But since many of those VIPs were members of the Mafia or the gangs that held power all over New York, I never, ever got involved with them.
My goal was to never be controlled by a man again. Derick showed me how hellish that experience could be. And those VIPS wereallabout power and control.
“How about no thank you?” I muttered under my breath as I gathered my long, wavy hair back into a bun for my makeup.
Nevaeh laughed at my remark, knowing full well how cautious I was to avoid those VIPs. But she gave Lenny a sweet smile and shake of her head. “Ah, no. Thanks, but no thanks. Nicky doesn’t want me to take on those bonuses.”
See? He’s controlling you by expecting you to pay for his shit, and he’s more controlling to tell you what you can and can’t do!
Once Lenny shrugged and walked off, Nevaeh lowered the wattage of her smile. “Yeah, right. Nicky wouldn’t have to ever know how I made more money. But I’m not going to risk getting knocked up or sold.”
“Huh?” Confused, I stared at her for a moment. I’d heard—and seen—the dancers who thought they could make some good cash by letting someone fuck them in a private room. And then they’d get pregnant. But sold? “Who’s getting sold around here?”
Nevaeh shrugged as she got busy applying her makeup. “I still know some of the former dancers. The ones who used to work here, but they were sold to VIPs.”
“Like their permanent private dancers?” I got my things out, holding back a yawn at the daunting idea of having to go through all the makeup for another long night.
“No.” Nevaeh huffed. “Sometimes, I forget you used to be an innocent small-town girl.”
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