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Because the first time those cold bars failed to click shut—I soared.
CHAPTER ONE
NIKOLETTA
Goosebumps bloom on my skin as I glide the cool satin along my forearm and over my elbow. The cuff of the fitted glove settles along the bottom edge of my biceps with a firm tug. I wiggle my fingers until the seams of the fingertips settle along my long nails.
Curling my fist, I let out a calming breath and study myself. Warm lights framing the dressing room mirror bathe my dark hair in a shimmering glow, twisting and turning with every wave rolling over my shoulders and down my back.
Dancers in varied states of undress breathlessly flit back and forth behind me, snatching makeup and costume pieces from one another as they prep for their sets. Despite their flurried movements, I catch the occasional narrowed side-eye they aim my way.
Because I’m the new girl, with no experience on the pole, and I’ve convinced the owner to highlight me on a crucial night where he’s fully booked with Manhattan’s powerful elite. When I did, I put an immediate target on my back.
Secrets rumble discreetly from dangerous men over the din of ice tumbling in crystal glasses, their indistinguishable echoes weaving through tendrils of smoke in the air. Politicians, power players in secret societies, the mafia, they all converge here, at Illusions Cabaret.
Concealed in shadows, they’re almost impossible to recognize. Their calculated perusal captured only by the occasional muted glow of a strategically placed sconce. They’re interest will be impossible to gauge from the vantage point.
Armed with my intuition and my years of dance on much different stages, I have one shot.
One product to sell.
My virginity.
I have to make it count.
And then when it’s gone, it’s one less bargaining chip for my father.
“Rich bitch cunt.”
The whispered barb snakes through the air over my shoulder in the wake of three dancers clustered together, sailing past me. A flash of temper streaks through my blood, lighting my veins on fire. Female or not, the Romanoff need for retribution pumps heavily through me. Years of watching my family rule with an iron fist, instilling respect through brutal power, fear, and a promise of retribution lives deep within despite the circumstance of my gender.
There will come a day where everyone will pay. But to attain that future, I have to be smart and in control now. Like my brother Nikolaj as he builds an army in the war against our brother Vlad.
Vlad—my tormentor. The one who haunts the darkness to this day, despite being thousands of miles away.
Bile bubbles to my throat when I think about what he—no. No. If I let those memories in, I won’t be able to do what I need to do.
I’ve convinced the owner, Silas, to give me one night to do this my way. One night to earn the price I set on my innocence.
Half a million dollars.
He laughed. Not just a chuckle. The smug bastard practically split a gut wheezing like a fucking hyena on crack.
Resolve fills the space where shame should be. I will show him. Half a million for one night, then get gone before the buyer realizes just who they have in their clutches. Success is the only option. If the buyer figures out he sullied Maksim Romanoff’s Bratva princess while I’m still in his grasp, I’ll never get away. Because possessing me is the ultimate in leverage with one of the biggest power players in the game.
My father.
How hard could it be in a place like this where bottle service starts at ten grand? Increments of a hundred don’t exist here. Four figures and up only. The tamest of lap dances starts at two thousand. Private dances ten thousand. A room for the night with one of Silas’s elite girls, be ready with twenty-five grand minimum.
And the elite menu? A night of indulgence, priced by kink or—in my case—virgin, begins at fifty thousand.
Patrons frequent this place with a private army of men in tow just to carry the cash they spend here between the price tags and the hefty damage deposit. That’s right… Silas likes to protect what’s his. Not that the money down does anything to shield his women. It only guarantees Silas will have an unexpected windfall to help lessen the blow to his supply while his dancer is out of commission waiting for the bruises to heal.
A shudder rocks through me. I’ve tried to ignore that part. I’ve tried to forget that while there are powerful men out there who just want to add the claiming of one’s virginity to their list of conquests, there are others for whom that’s only the beginning.
Men like Vlad.
Claiming a virgin’s innocence only feeds a dark power within. A frenzy is born for more power, more control, and to make sure that virgin never forgets who destroyed them.
