Page 40 of Dancing with the Devil

“Everything’s fine,” I gritted out as I grabbed both shirts, heading to my dressing room.

I slammed the door shut behind me and threw my ruined shirt onto the couch. I quickly slipped on my spare shirt and straightened it out. Some alcohol had splashed onto my ends so I grabbed a towel to dry them too.

“What happened?”

The rough voice startled me and I subtly jolted, turning around. “You’re not supposed to be back here,” I said, dropping the towel to tuck my shirt into my skirt.

“What happened, Nirah?” Antonio repeated himself, his voice laced with growing frustration.

“What do you think? Sylvester happened,” I irritably shot back as I headed for the door but he grabbed my arm, stopping me.

“What did he do?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I shook my head, pulling out of his hold and made my way back to the bar. Hislittle bar friendwasn’t there. She must have realized how much of a pain in the ass he was.

I served some customers behind the bar and when my eyes trailed around the club, my stomach twisted into a knot of anxiety. Antonio seemed to be in deep conversation with Marco atmytable.

I brushed off the uneasiness in my belly as I focused on making the drinks. Marco eventually approached me, pulling me aside. “Baby, I need you to head to the back. You’ve been booked for a private session,” he said, making me sigh

“Marco, I’m sorry, but if it’s Antonio—”

“It’s not,” he shook his head.

With a gentle squeeze to my arm, he excused himself and after serving my last few customers, I headed back to my dressing room. I got changed, touched up my makeup and made my way to the private room.

My pulse throbbed in my neck as I entered the dim lit room. He was pacing up and down and when I closed the door behind myself, his head snapped up in my direction. Naturally, he grinned.

I’ve seen him with Giovanni a couple times, but that was it. “Hi gorgeous,” he smirked, approaching the sofa. He sat down, spreading his legs and I walked over.

“Nirah,” I corrected him with a smile, extending my hand and he gently took it, kissing the back of my hand.

“Leo,” he introduced himself as his lustful gaze stared me down.

I turned my back on him, swaying my hips as I strutted toward the pole, and got ready to perform. My heart raced but I tried my best to focus and give him a show. My heart dropped when he emptied some white powder onto the table before lowering his head, sniffing it up.Oh, fuck.

He groaned, throwing his head back and my stomach churned. When they’re on any sort of substance there’s no telling how they’d act or what they’d do.

I fought my fear, giving my best performance. After my dance, he waved me over and I smiled, approaching him.

“Have some,” he gestured toward the table and I shook my head.

“I can’t. I’m working,” I politely declined.

“Oh, come on,” he insisted.

He grabbed my hand, pulling me onto his lap and my heart leaped in my chest. He pressed his nose to my arm as he inhaled my scent and I shuddered.

“Take this off,” he instructed, nodding toward my top.

“But you only wanted a dance,” I reluctantly said, getting up but he pulled me back down.

He whipped out some cash, dropping in my lap. “Just a peak,” he pleaded.

“I can’t do that,” I shook my head, finally getting up and with a sigh of disapproval, he got up as well. I absolutely can, but with the amount of cocaine up his nose, I’d rather not risk it.

I grabbed my coat but he snatched it out of my hand, tossing it back on the table.

The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Take your top off.”