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Prologue - Selina
The music throbbed in my ears as I stared at myself in the mirror. I could hardly recognize the girl standing in front of me, but I was going to have to get to know her soon enough if I was going to pull this off.
I could still hardly believe I was doing this, hardly wrap my head around the fact that I had come to this place tonight. The Devil’s Drop, that was the name of the club I had applied to. I had figured they would turn me away as soon as they realized how little experience I had, how bad I would probably be up on that stage. When I had come in to drop off my application, there had been a girl throwing herself around on the pole, grinding and turning and twisting and capturing the attention of all the men in the room. There was no way I could do something like that.
Was there?
I was only eighteen. I hadn’t even had sex yet—hell, I’d only had my first kiss the year before, an awkward encounter with a guy from my high school. I didn’t know how to move my body in a way that these guys would find attractive. I didn’t know what that meant, what that looked like. When I met with the manager, Horaldo, I felt him look me up and down as though trying to figure out if I was serious.
"How old are you?" he demanded.
"Eighteen," I replied at once. A smile spread across his face when I said that, though I couldn’t figure out why.
"Perfect," he told me. "You can start this weekend. Talk to some of the girls on the floor; they'll tell you what to wear."
I nodded, my hands trembling helplessly as I tried to gather myself. I couldn’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers. My family needed money and needed money fast. If I couldn’t come up with something, we were going to have to stop my father’s treatment, and I couldn’t live with myself if there was anything more I could do to help him, anything at all.
I could still remember the first time he’d started to show symptoms of his illness, coughing and hacking over dinner one evening while my mother looked on with concern. She had done her best not to show it on her face, but I could tell she was terrified. She knew as well as I did that he was the only one bringing in money to this family, the only one providing for me and my siblings, and if something happened to him, there would be no way for us to make it through.
And so, as the oldest one, I needed to step up and do something to make sure he didn’t have to worry right now. I’d told my mom I was going out to wash dishes at a local restaurant. If she’d had any idea of what I had really been doing, she would have lost her mind with panic and worry. She knew as well as I did how sleazy this part of town was, and just what was expected of the girls who worked in a place like this.
"You look great, hun," one of the other women remarked as she came in from her time on the stage—Jalia, that was her name, I think. She was a little older than me with dark hair that framed her face perfectly. She was so strikingly beautiful, and she walked with such ease in those dangerously high heels. I didn’t have her confidence, her cool, and I was sure it was going to be written all over my face as soon as I went out there.
"Thanks," I muttered, plucking at the red lace bra that was scratching at my skin. I had picked up the cheapest set I could find—the girls had told me to get something durable, because some of the guys got handsy during the private dances, which was, apparently, where most of the money was made.
They had helped me get all dressed up for my first night, brushing out my hair, applying heavy makeup—dark, smokey shadow around my eyes and a deep red lip gloss that made me look way older than I was. I didn’t know if I even looked good. I felt like a clown, but at least I matched with the rest of the girls here.
"You’re on," Horaldo yelled to me, making me jump, and I spun around, nearly teetering to the ground in my sky-high plastic heels. Pleasers, that’s what they were called, and that’s exactly what I was going to have to do if I was going to make it through my first night in this place. I ran a hand through my hair and inhaled deeply, promising myself that I was going to make it through.
No matter what.
I picked my way out onto the stage, and the bright lights nearly blinded me. I tried to smile, but I felt more as though I was grimacing against the brightness. I could hear the beat of the music, and I forced myself to start moving, swaying my hips this way and that. The light made it impossible to see the men sitting in front of me, thank God. I wasn’t sure I could have gone through with this if I actually had to look them in the eye …
I felt so damn awkward up there, swaying myself back and forth, trying my best to look sexy even though I was sure I looked completely insane. I had been told roughly how this would go, how the guys would book me for a private dance if they liked what they saw up on that stage enough. It was hard for me to believe any of them would want anything to do with me after this, but I had to try …
Finally, mercifully, the song came to an end, and I hurried down off the stage, pulling my hair away from my face where it had gotten stuck to my lip gloss. I wanted a drink, but I knew they wouldn’t serve me here; I was too young. I eyed the large tray of shots whisked past me by another girl who had a dazzling smile and the most perfect body I had ever seen. Would I ever look like that? Would it ever come that easily to me?
But before I could linger any longer on that question, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around, feeling utterly exposed in this outfit, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around myself and cover myself up.
A man, maybe in his early thirties, was standing in front of me. He looked, to my surprise, basically normal—like any of the guys I might have run into at my father’s office job when I stopped by to bring him lunch after he forgot it at home. He grinned at me, his eyes tracing pointedly up and down my body.
"You’re new, right?" he asked. I nodded, not quite able to get the words out.
"Good," he replied, and he jerked his head towards the private dance rooms. "I want a private show. Come on."
I followed him behind the heavy velvet curtain, into the quieter area that was reserved for private shows like this. I didn’t even know what to expect from all of this, but I knew I had to keep myself together. I had to just hold myself back from panicking or letting him see how much this was getting to me. He sat down on the large leather seat at the far side of the room and looked up at me expectantly.
I took a step towards him, and he reached out to grab my hip. I froze on the spot—they had told me that guys weren’t allowed to put hands on you when you were doing a private show, that it was against the rules of this place, but he didn’t seem to care. I wanted to push him off, tell him to stop touching me, but I didn’t have it in me. It felt as though every muscle in my body had just tensed, and I wasn’t sure how to stop it.
"How much for extras?" he asked, reaching towards his crotch. I could see something swelling beneath the fabric of his slacks, and my eyes widened.
"Extras?" I blurted out. I was pretty sure I knew what he was talking about, but he couldn’t be serious, could he? I wasn’t going to do anything like that. I wasn’t going to sell my body …
Even though I had already gone up on that stage to do just that, right? I had gotten up there and put on a show for these men in the hopes that one of them would pay to get me alone. Now he had me where he wanted me, was it that much of a shock that he clearly felt as though he had a right to more?
"How much?" he prompted me, raising his eyebrows, rubbing his hand over his erection. I hesitated. I could feel how big this moment was, feel how huge it had to be. If I made this choice, if I agreed to this, then there would be no going back. I would always be the kind of woman who had done that. The kind of woman who had sold herself …
Sold herself to look after her family, I reminded myself. There was a reason I was doing all of this. It wasn’t just so I could make some quick cash to spend on something stupid, I needed it—I needed to do this. I needed to make all the money I could. The more I made, the faster I did it the quicker I would be out of all of this mess, right?
