Page 151 of Toxic Kiss

“Then…I’m sorry. Truly. But…you need to go back. Mr. Vale can be very…grumpy when he doesn’t get his way.” Brett rubs the back of his neck.

“Grumpy?” I laugh. “Just say it. He’s a raging, motherfucking prick, shit head, asshole, arrogant and rude, with a cruel streak, and an ego bigger than a state.”

Brett laughs. “Sure, all of that.”

Despite my annoyance, Cy’s not wrong about the social media opportunity. God, I hate how he knows exactly how to manipulate a situation. With a heavy sigh, I pull out my phone and head back to the band. They are allowing the women to come in one at a time for photos and autographs.

The closer I get, the harder it is to keep my emotions in check. This is why I don’t stick around after the show and watch this ritual. The self-esteem I’ve worked so hard to repair takes it on the chin while the green-eyed goddess that lives in me raises her head.

Managing to keep my expression blank, I film the ever-growing line. The club’s bouncers have maneuvered it into a snake shape so they don’t block the view of the stage. Moving among the women, it becomes obvious that their hormones are amped up and their brains are turned off.

I go to every show.

I’d blow any of them right now, but Eren is my soulmate.

I buy all the merch and have made a shrine in my home.

I bought a sex doll and painted Ash’s face on it.

I’m twenty grand in debt for VIP tickets, but so worth it.

I would kill my husband to have Ledger, and they’d never find his body.

I want Vex to shove his cock down my throat while on a cliff overlooking the sea, just like my favorite book.

What in the ever-loving fuck?

Toward the front of the line, I snap some photos and then turn on the band’s live feed. Within seconds, there are thousands of people tuned in to see Venomous After Dark.

“Would you like a drink,” one of the waitresses asks. She is holding a tray of jiggly shooters.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” I say, giving her a small smile.

Earning a living in a place like this is not all that it’s cracked up to be. It’s extremely hard work. But as much as I hate the stereotype that comes with the word stripper or exotic dancer, I still don’t want to watch my man fantasize about another woman.

Guess it’s a good thing Cy is not my man.

My eyes drift to the devil himself and the latest girl fawning over the guys for a photo. I raise my arm so everyone on the feed can see what’s going on from a better angle.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink? It might make this easier,” the waitress says and nods at the band. “I get used to reading people and I know you like the one that carried you in.”

Great, I’m now transparent on top of the humiliation.

“Apparently, I’m very obvious tonight.” She gives me a little smile. “Thanks, but nothing will help this. I appreciate the offer.”

“I’m Kandy with a K.” Kandy holds out her hand for me to shake.

“Haven. Nice to meet you, Kandy.”

“If you change your mind, it’s on the house,” she says, giving me a wink.

Before I can disappear into the crowd, Cy spots me, and I cringe as he calls my name. I don’t turn.

“Haven,” he calls out again. Shit. With a sigh, I pivot to face him.

Cy is smiling and waving me over as the next groupie in line is let in to get their photo. The girls at the front turn as a unit and scowl at me. I’m almost able to hear them mentally hissing. Lovely.

“Hi, I’m Mellanie,” the pretty woman says as I cross into the VIP area. “I love you so much, please marry me.”