I resent how my sister has doubt about my line of work as she continues to interfere in matters unrelated to her. My pace quickens, pressured by the Mafia's potential retribution if I fail to show up at the club.

Despite my sister's wishes for me to quit, I can't help but chuckle, aware that my life is no longer my own. However, my thoughts was interrupted by homeless children who approach me on the streets, asking for money in exchange for faux magic tricks. I grin, remembering how my sister and I used to do the same, a rebellious act against our parents.

A small voice offers, "Want to see this coin disappear?" Instead of responding, I give the child a dollar, eliciting jumps of joy from her and cries from the others.

Panicking, I search for the girl I gave money to, hoping she'll share it. Failing to find her, I sigh and produce another dollar, making them promise to split it.

"Give it to George, ma'am. He'll ensure it's divided," a brave child suggests. The group agrees, so I comply before rushing to the club.

"Where the hell were you?" Daniella's voice booms when I enter through the private door.

"Apologies," I hurriedly respond, needing to avoid angering the manager with my tardiness.

"Hurry and change before the boss lady notices you just arrived, or 'I'm sorry' will be your fucking last words on earth. And just so you know, your pupils are dilated," she grits.

How on earth can she deduce my drug use from just looking at my eyes?

"Leave. I won't inform the boss lady," she dismisses me, and I rush to the elevator, silently praying Cecilia doesn't spot me.

"That boss lady is really getting on my nerves," Felicia exclaims as she storms into the dressing room, startling me.

"Damn it! You scared me," I shout, and she instantly notices me, approaching with a smile.

"You, bitch, where have you been? The boss lady has been asking about you."

"The 'boss lady' has a name, you know."

"'Boss lady' suits her better than Cecilia," she laughs, and I glare at her.

I vow never to refer to Cecilia as the boss lady after she forced me to become a stripper in this club three years ago. She also promised to make my life a living hell, and so far, she's succeeded.

A few months ago, she discovered that Jace and I were having an affair, and it infuriated her. She then turned Jace into her personal plaything and forbade me from having any kind of relationship with him.

"Jace has eyes only for you," Felicia said, applying even more makeup to her already glamorous face.

At least Cecilia hasn't taken away the only friend I've managed to make here. Felicia's skill in pole dancing is unparalleled, capable of enticing you to spend all your money on her exquisite body. Thus, Cecilia needs her to continue mentoring me, making me the only one who shares this exclusive dressing room with Felicia.

"I don't want to discuss Jace here," I whisper, fearing that Cecilia or her henchmen might be listening, despite the empty room.

"You should go, and don't forget the new step I taught you. I'll be watching."

I nod, quickly making my way to the backstage area, and adjusting my red mask, also silently praying I don't stumble in my red 6-inch heels during my dance.

"Megan,"

My favorite voice whispers behind me, and in seconds, Jace's hands are around my waist, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

I cherish the nickname he's given me; it allows me to remain unrecognized in and outside of this club. My happiness grew when Cecilia granted approval for me to use the nickname and even adopt disguises, like the mask I'm putting on. According to her, it's safer for the organization.

I smile and gently remove Jace's hands from my waist, resisting the temptation that lingers. "Jace Prescott, we can't afford to be seen together," I remind him.

He ignores my words and playfully traces my neck with his tongue, causing an inadvertent moan to escape my lips. I quickly cover my mouth, putting a reasonable distance between us.

"Thanks for the package," I say, referring to the cocaine he brought for me earlier. He nods, understanding the implication. Just then, the DJ starts playing my favorite song, signaling my time to take the stage. I offer a smile to Jace, and made my way to the spotlight. As the lights go off, the sound of enthusiastic shouts from the mafia members fills the air. When the lights returned, I began my pole dance routine.

My dance was captivating and distinctive, capturing everyone's attention, particularly the affluent individuals occupying the VIP section. Later, I catch Felicia's signal from a corner, indicating I should perform the flip move, and I comply. To ensure my safety, two armed guards are stationed nearby.

In a matter of moments, money is showered upon me as a reward for the captivating performance. The attention of most is diverted, however, as Cecilia makes her entrance, bringing my show to an end.

Once the performance concludes, I return to my dressing room, shedding my blonde wig, red mask, and heels. Before I can change from my red lingerie into my everyday attire, Cecilia enters, clad in her customary black leather jacket and trousers.

She adheres to the black attire because in the world of the Mafia, death is a constant, and it spares her the need to change for funerals.

Truth be told, she doesn't appear as imposing and fearsome as her father. In fact, she could be mistaken for a model, with her perfectly sculpted face and tall, slender figure.

"That was an impressive performance, I must admit," she remarks, standing in the doorway.

"I have to repay the debt somehow," I retort.

"Very true, and that's precisely why someone quite special requires a private dance," her words draw a glare from me because we both understand that a private dance equates to sex, a clear violation of her father's rules. I'm about to protest, but she beats me to it.

"Don't even consider arguing. Put on your disguise and be in the special room in two minutes."

"Does this settle all the debt?" I ask, although I know well enough that it can never settle it. She chuckles, closing the distance between us in just two swift strides. Without warning, fear courses through me, causing my body to tremble.

"Three years ago, your boyfriend brought war to this Mafia. My father lost a truck filled with tons of cocaine, do you have the slightest idea how much a ton of cocaine is worth, and you dare to question if a few minutes of sex can settle your debt?"

Her voice exudes terror. If I ever had any doubt about the similarities between her and her father, they're all shattered now. Tears betray me, streaming from my eyes, which only seems to amuse her dangerously.

"In this lifetime, you'll never manage to repay my father. Now get back to work because the mafia fucking owns you."