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EMMA

T he girl doesn’t mean anything to me. She’s just convenient.

I didn’t see his face when he said that, but I heard him. I don’t want to believe it because it hurts so much, but it’s the truth. It’s his truth.

My worst fear had come true. Like always, I got too carried away. I got too invested in something that was never mine.

I didn’t mean anything to him. I was just a body to warm his bed.

My heart is in a million pieces, but I don’t let myself fall apart. I walk toward Mrs. Hendricks. She turns around to face me, startled by my sudden appearance.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I take off my bejeweled mask.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, moving toward me. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Someone told me that you were outside,” I say, swallowing. “So I came looking for you.”

The pain in my chest expands, squeezing down on my throat. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over this. I already know that I’m going to be replaying this moment in my head for years to come. I’m going to be haunted by one man for eternity.

“How much of that did you hear?” she asks.

“Enough,” I reply.

I want to be strong about this, but he really had a hold on me. And even though we weren’t anything to each other, it still feels like a betrayal.

The broken pieces of my heart are still scattered around my feet, and I’m not sure if I want to pick them back up.

“It hurts,” I say. “It all hurts so fucking much.”

Without another word, Mrs. Hendricks wraps her arms around me. She rubs my back in a soothing motion, but it only makes me break more.

“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I loved him,” I say. “I told myself I wouldn’t fall for someone like him, but I fell so fucking hard.”

“We don’t always get to choose who we fall for,” she says, rubbing my back. “It’s one of the travesties of life.”

“It’s not fair,” I say.

“I know it’s not,” she says.

“Are all men the same?” I ask. “Because I really thought that Klaus was different.”

“I’m so sorry, Emma,” she says, holding me like a mother would. She lets me break down in her arms.

After a moment, I pull away and ball my hands over my eyes, trying to hold it in.

“I really thought he felt the same way about me,” I say. “I really thought he loved me back.”

Because if our bond was all in my head, I don’t know what’s real anymore. I don’t know if I can ever trust my own judgment again.

“Sometimes we just see what we want to see in a person,” she says.

I see it all before me like a music video. The softness in his eyes when he thought I wasn’t looking. The way he held me in his arms as I fell asleep. I was such a fool to believe that it was love.

Something shuts off inside me.

All the tender parts of me harden, turning into metal.

“I can promise you one thing,” Mrs. Hendricks says. “There are plenty of fish in the sea. And you’re a gorgeous, smart girl with a lot to offer. Not to mention, you have your whole life ahead of you.”

It’s all the typical things people say after you break up with someone. Only, Klaus and I never even had a relationship. He wasn’t my man. I wasn’t his woman.

I was just...convenient.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m glad I learned the truth before it was too late.”

“Take the rest of the night off, Emma,” she says. “Go home. Rest.”

“That will only make it worse,” I say. “I’ll just end up spending the whole night mulling over what happened.”

“Are you sure you want to keep working?” she asks.

I nod.

She hugs me again even though I don’t ask for it.

I guess it’s something every woman understands intuitively. It’s something that most women go through at some point in their life, so they know what it’s like.

I was here before, weeping over a misguided love. And here I am again.

“Can I ask you a favor?” I say.

“Anything,” she says.

“I’d like to dance tonight.”

She raises her eyebrows. “You want to dance?”

“I know there’s a vetting process for the dancers, but I think I’d be good at it,” I say. “I don’t have the talent to be a stripper, but I’m flexible from years of ice-skating. I know how to move.”

“Are you sure?” Mrs. Hendricks asks, looking concerned. “If you don’t want to go home, I can arrange a room for you and your friends. I’ll send up a few bottles of champagne, and you can order room service. You can have a fun girls’ night.”

It’s sweet of her to offer, but I’ve made up my mind.

I’m not going to let another man make me live in fear and sorrow. I’m done hiding and making myself small so I won’t bother anyone.

“I want to dance,” I say. “I think it will make me feel a lot better.”

She watches me for a moment and then sighs.

“I guess dance is a form of self-expression for some,” she says.

Only it’s not about self-expression.

It’s about changing my narrative.

I’ve been the victim for too long. I let my life be controlled by the whims of the men in my life. I don’t want that for myself because it’s killing me slowly.

I can’t keep living that way.

We walk back inside the club. My friends are busy with their own stuff tonight, so I’m on my own as I get ready. I change out of the uniform and slip into a shimmery dark blue dress. It’s a tiny little backless thing that barely covers my ass. I pair it with black stilettos.

Before heading out, I look at myself in the mirror.

I barely recognize what I see. There’s a lifelessness in my eyes that should be alarming. But things have to die to be born again. It’s just how the world works.

Mrs. Hendricks walks into the dressing room.

“You look stunning, Emma,” she says, looking at my reflection in the mirror. “But if you change your mind?—”

“I won’t,” I say.

She must see the resolution in my eyes because she turns toward one of the makeup artists.

“Add more shimmer on her chest,” she says. “I want her shining like a star.”

They add the finishing touches before I’m taken to the dance floor.

The club has different types of dancers. There are the performers like the aerial dancers and the strippers, and then there are the entertainers. These girls are on the dance floor for the men’s enjoyment.

As I walk toward the crowd, I get that familiar feeling again. I’m going to be a part of this, but I don’t belong here.

I don’t know how I ended up here, but I chose this for myself.

So I’m going to embrace it.

I enter the roped-off section in front of the DJ booth. There are girls in various stages of undress dancing to the music. It’s some techno song with a trance-like rhythm.

The song itself is fast paced, but I dance slow.

I close my eyes and sway my hips slowly. The fabric of the dress brushes against my upper thighs, giving the men a glimpse of my panties with every little shake of my hips. A thrill runs down my spine.

The music flows through me like a warm liquor, hypnotizing me with the beat.

I drag my hands up my thighs, over my stomach, and around the curves of my breasts. I lift my hands up and shake my head as I start to feel the music.

The rhythm changes, turning more sultry.

I play with the hem of my dress, dragging it up just a little as I twirl my hips in slow circles. When I start to feel a pulse between my thighs, I pull the fabric down again.

I open my eyes.

I almost stop dancing when I see people watching me. It doesn’t exactly feel uncomfortable, because the energy these men give off is more curious than pervy. But it still doesn’t feel right. Because I only want to dance for one man. However, that’s irrelevant now. He doesn’t care about me.

I remember what Mrs. Hendricks said in the dressing room.

Don’t look at everyone. Focus on one man and keep your eyes on him.

I lock eyes with one of the men. I ignore the fact that he looks a little like Klaus. I dance for him, keeping my eyes locked on his.

He takes that as an invitation to step forward.

This is where I get to choose. I get to choose if I want this man touching me or not.

I nod at him. The rope is opened for him, and he strides toward me. My heart bangs against my ribcage.

“Hi,” I whisper when he’s close enough.

He can’t hear me, of course, but he reads my lips.

“Hey,” he mouths back.

This is the part where I’m supposed to act like I know what I’m doing. I’m supposed to wrap my arms around him, but it doesn’t feel right.

When I remain frozen, he closes the distance between us. He drapes his arm around my waist and tugs me closer so our bodies are flush together.

Everything’s wrong—his scent, the way his body feels against mine, the simple fact that it’s not Klaus.

I thought my heart couldn’t break any more, but it keeps breaking over and over again.

The man who’s holding me leans down to speak in my ear.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he says. “You’re so beautiful.”

He’s sweet. I rest my hand on his shoulder. When I look up, I find another pair of eyes on me. Eyes that have haunted every nightmare I ever had. His face is covered in shadows, but I recognize him immediately.

Adam .

Before I can react, a large hand grabs my wrist. I glance up to see Klaus tugging me away from the crowd.

For a split second, I let myself feel relief. I’m safe.

But reality comes crashing down on me like a bucket of ice water.

“Let go of me, Klaus,” I say.

His hand tightens around my wrist. His eyes smolder as they stare at me. I’ve never been on the receiving end of his wrath. It should scare me, but it doesn’t.

“Keep moving,” he orders. “Don’t test my patience.”

He takes me down some secret corridor I’ve never noticed before.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

He ignores my question and keeps walking down the corridor. It’s empty except for the two of us. The lights flicker as we pass by them.

I glance behind me, half expecting to see an armed man following us.

“Stop,” I say, tugging on my hand until he stops walking. “Just stop.”

“Where else do you want to go?” he asks. “To the man you were grinding up against? Do you think he cares about you? He’ll forget you by tomorrow.”

“You’re hurting me,” I say, glancing down at my wrist.

His jaw grinds before he steps toward me and scoops me into his arms. I’m several feet off the ground as he carries me to wherever he wants to take me.

Everything in me explodes.

I’ve been trying to contain it all inside me. I’ve been trying to pretend it doesn’t hurt. But it all hurts so much. I don’t have any fight left in me.

I cling tighter to him when we step outside into the cold night. A black G-Wagon is waiting for us.

The car looks familiar. I think I saw it following me as I drove to the club tonight.

He unceremoniously deposits me in the back seat before climbing in after me. The car starts moving immediately, heading toward the gates.

Klaus and I stare at each other, unsaid words hanging heavy between us. He looks absolutely livid as he takes in all of me. There’s glitter everywhere—his hands, my chest, the car seat. My skin sparkles like a million diamonds every time the light hits me.

He grabs a tissue and wipes his hands with it.

“So this is who you are,” he says, glancing over at my skimpy dress.

It feels like a slap to the face.

“Do you have a problem with it?” I ask.

“If you want to whore yourself out, that’s your choice,” he says, pursing his lips.

“Damn right, it’s my choice,” I say. “And besides, you’re one to talk.”

“Meaning?”

“There’s only one reason men like you come to places like Elysium,” I say. “It’s to see girls like me. After all, girls like me are convenient , right?”

His face is a blank mask. It gives me absolutely nothing.

A chill passes through me. It’s the middle of November, and I’m wearing a short dress.

Without a word, he removes his suit jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. It’s a sweet gesture, but not enough to make me forget the words he said about me behind my back.

“Adam was there,” he says.

“I know. I saw him.”

“Did you know he used to be a police officer?” he asks.

That piece of information breaks through my gloom. I shake my head.

“He’s far more dangerous than I gave him credit for,” Klaus says, resting his head back. He looks completely exhausted.

And despite everything that happened tonight, I want to reach for his hand to comfort him. But I don’t. There’s too much distance between us right now. It can’t ever be bridged.

“You said you were going out to meet your friends,” he says.

“And you said you were staying in for the night,” I counter.

We kept things from each other, and it’s going to be our downfall. There’s no going back to the way things used to be. Everything has fallen apart now. Nothing is fixable.

“Are you going to fire me?” I ask him.

He’s quiet for a moment.

“No,” he says. “We’re just going to go back to the way things were. We’re both adults here. We can pretend none of this ever happened and move on with our lives.”

I wish he had the guts to remove me from his life. That would be easier to deal with than whatever’s to come.

I stare out the window for the rest of the drive.

He’s sitting right next to me, but there might as well be oceans between us.