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"Come with me," he says, gesturing toward a dimly lit hallway. "There's something you need to see."
Curiosity piqued, I follow him through the pulsating crowd, wondering what could be so important as to pull me away from our brothers.
As we approach a nondescript door, Ivan turns to me, his expression serious. "You've been working hard lately, Boris. Too hard, some might say. You deserve a bit of... relaxation." He winks, and I feel a sudden surge of apprehension. What could be behind this door?
I am hesitant and glance back at the chaos of the club. "I don't need any distractions right now," I say.
"Trust me," Ivan replies, placing a hand on my shoulder. "This will be good for you. Just one night, and you'll be ready to take on the world tomorrow. Now go on, open the door."
With a deep breath, I reach for the handle and push the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. The sight that greets me is entirely unexpected—and entirely captivating.
It’s a private room with plush velvet couches. In the middle stands a pole. It’s empty, for now. Ivan hands me a blindfold.
My pulse quickens as I survey the scene before me, my struggles momentarily forgotten.
"Put that blindfold on and make yourself comfortable. Enjoy, cousin," Ivan whispers, stepping back into the hallway and closing the door behind him. I'm left alone, my heart pounding in my chest, unsure of what to expect.
I do as Ivan said and sit back on the couch before putting on the blindfold. Just then, I hear the rustle of a curtain from somewhere behind me, revealing the presence of something—or perhaps someone—forcing me to catch my breath. This night just took a turn I never saw coming...
Chapter 4 - Robin
I slip in through the side door and remain hidden behind the curtains of the private room, a shaky breath escaping me while my fingers fumble to adjust the lace of my stockings. It’s my first night here, and I don’t know if I’m capable of telling apples from oranges.
The bra clings tight, too tight, against my chest, making me aware of every heartbeat. My fingers fiddle with the hem of my skirt—too short and too shiny for the likes of day-to-day Robin.
Dimmed lights cast long shadows, and slow music drifts through the room. The air is thick with the musk of expensive cologne, masking the remnants of the previous occupants’ cigars.
"Remember, it's all in the confidence," Tilly's words replay in my mind like a mantra. Jess’s cousin has been of utmost help all day, trying to teach me all the little tricks she’s picked up. She had found me backstage just moments ago and noticed my hands trembling, a result of my mind racing with every possible thing that could go wrong. With swift movements and a knowing smile, she'd demonstrated how to tilt my head just so, letting my straight, light brown hair cascade over one shoulder. "Eye contact," she'd insisted, even though he'd be blindfolded. "Pretend he can see you. It'll change the way you carry yourself."
"Use your voice like a velvet rope," she'd coaxed, her own tone dipping to a sultry whisper that seemed to caress my nerves, urging them to settle. "You're not asking him to follow; you're inviting him into a world where only you make the rules."
Sarah had laughed, light and breezy, as she mimicked a shy brush of fingertips along an invisible man's arm. "A touch can scream louder than words, Robin. Make him listen."
The advice feels foreign to me, but desperation for my little brother’s future has a way of pushing me past my fears. For Adam, I’d walk through fire. Or, in this case, seduce a stranger while pretending I’m not about to shatter from the nerves.
"Confidence," I whisper to myself, the word a fragile thread to cling to. Because if there's anything I've learned living under my uncle's roof, it's that sometimes we play roles we never auditioned for. And tonight, I'm the star of a show I barely understand.
I can’t fail at this because now I only have six days to pay off those wretched collectors. The problem is, I simply don’t know if I can do this.
***
I part the curtains and take in the view before venturing forward. He's a shadow in the corner, just a silhouette, surrounded by a thick air of mystery. The faint light casts half his face in a golden hue while the other half is lost in the darkness. His broad chest rises and falls under the crisp white shirt that looks like it costs more than I earned last month. A blindfold, stark against his lightly tanned skin, hides his eyes, but I feel them on me anyway. I feel like he’s following the sound of me through his ears.
I take a deep breath and scan the room. I note the red alarm button. If he’s dangerous or if I’m being forced to do something I don’t want, all I have to do is call for help.
My vision narrows as the animalistic part of my brain tells me to run. But the practical one tells me to stay. It’s too late to back out now, anyway. I have no other choice.
For Adam, I tell myself. I step out from behind the curtains.
"Hello," my voice slips out, quieter than I would like. I remember Sarah's advice and clear my throat, letting the next words roll off my tongue like honey, thick and slow. "I mean... hey there."
I mean, hey there? What the hell, Robin?
I wince at my goof-up.
The man shifts in his chair. His fingers, tipped with silver rings, drum a melody of his own making on the armrest. I wait for a sign, a shift in his demeanor, anything that shows he heard me over the roaring silence.
“I mean… hey there,” he teases back and raises his hand in a slow wave. A slow, salacious grin spreads across his face.
