Chapter 5 The Wrong Kind of Attention

Milena Lima

"All set," I tell Dora, closing the last drawer of the vanity as soon as I finish her makeup.

She and the other dancers are always asking me to help them get ready, and I do it gladly. Working at my mother’s beauty salon taught me how to do a lot of things, and modesty aside, I got really good at it.

My skills, combined with my willingness to help, ended up bringing me closer to the other women at the club. Even in such a short time, I’ve become friends with most of them. The environment here is hostile to us, and it seems designed to breed rivalry between women. But my mother, despite all her mistakes in hiding the truth about my life, always taught me something valuable: women should protect one another.

She used to say that we’ve fought too hard to earn space in a world dominated by men, and that it’s our duty to keep supporting that fight, not sabotage each other over petty reasons.

Unfortunately, I’m one of the few who thinks that way around here.

The others are always arguing over clients, money, or attention.

Stupid things, in my opinion.

There’s room for all of us.

Dora thanks me with a hug before leaving the dressing room, but she pauses at the door.

"Be careful, Mi. I’ve worked at gentlemen’s clubs before, and the men are... more intense. When they want something, they want it, and they don’t respect the rules the way they do in regular clubs. If some asshole tries to cross the line with you, say you’re going to call the Belinnis. They’re our ‘safe word.’ Everyone’s afraid of them because they know they’ll protect us, no matter how much money the abuser has in his bank account. The Belinnis are dangerous, but not with us. They have honor."

I thank my friend and stare at my reflection in the mirror, the red outfit molding itself strategically to every part of my body. It’s bold and sensual, but despite everything, I can still see in my eyes the innocent girl who used to be full of dreams back in Brazil.

But that girl is dead.

Now I’m just a dancer.

So I touch up my red lipstick, force a smile onto my face, and leave the dressing room.

Outside, the stage is waiting for me for the first performance of the night.

As soon as I finish, I smile at the audience and meet the lustful gazes of several men in suits. I ignore every single one of them and step down from the stage while sensual music continues filling the room.

All over the club, women glide along fabrics hanging from the ceiling to the floor, creating a hypnotic performance, almost like a circus act. Their movements are fluid and seductive, and the low lighting in the large, luxurious space adds an air of mystery and power.

"Milena, I need to talk to you," David calls, catching my attention. "Some clients want to meet you."

Meet.

I know exactly what that means.

I shake my head immediately.

"No, thanks."

"Think about it, girl. There’s a lot of money involved. It could change your life," he insists, but I’m not for sale.

I need to work to pay the bills and survive, but this job is temporary, and my body is not up for negotiation.

"It doesn’t matter. Some things are worth more than money," I answer, and David grimaces in disapproval.

"If you didn’t dance so well, I swear I’d fire you because of that mouth of yours."

I should back down at his threat, but I’ve never submitted to bullies, and this won’t be the first time.

"I thought you told me I wouldn’t be forced to do anything. When you hired me, I made it very clear that I wouldn’t sleep with anyone."

"The money they’re offering for one night with you is absurd. I’ve never seen anything like it," he continues, as if that’s supposed to change my mind. "They must think you’re a virgin. That’s the only explanation."

"And what if I am?" I snap back, and David freezes.

The dark smile that appears on his face makes me take a step back.

"Milena..."

The tone of his voice scares me. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. Damn it.

"If you keep pushing this, I’ll talk to the Belinnis," I cut him off, remembering Dora’s words, and when his smile vanishes, I realize it worked.

"Do you still have performances tonight?"

"One. Later," I answer.

"Fine. Find me afterward. I want to talk to you."

I have absolutely no desire to talk to him, but knowing my livelihood depends on this man, I simply nod and head back toward the dancers’ area, taking a deep breath.

I start wondering what would be worse: being engaged to a mobster chosen by my father or being treated like a piece of meat because I dance in a club for rich men.

"This is temporary," I remind myself, breathing deeply again, trying to stay calm. "I’ll find another job."

Now I just need to come up with an excuse not to meet David later.

Stomachache, maybe?

He wouldn’t try to throw me into some client’s bed if I had diarrhea, would he?

While my mind works to find a way out, a girl catches my attention on the dance floor. She’s beautiful and young, dancing with her eyes closed and a drink in her hand.

My eyes follow the moment a man approaches and grabs her by the waist. The discomfort on her face is so obvious that my instincts scream for me to step in.

Women protect one another.

I walk toward them with firm steps and a forced smile. I have no idea who I’m dealing with, and I need to put on my mask. I take the girl’s hand gently, but my voice is firm when I address the man.

"Excuse me, sir, Julia is late for her performance."

He doesn’t let her go. My smile stays in place, but my tone hardens. Fine, I’ll have to play my trump card again.

"If you don’t let her go, I’ll have to call one of the Belinnis."

The moment he hears the name that makes anyone think twice, he backs off.

I take the opportunity to pull her away without looking back, and when we reach the dancers’ access area behind the bar, she tries to stop me.

"I think you’ve got me confused. My name isn’t Julia," she says, her voice rushed. She’s anxious; maybe it’s the adrenaline.

"I know it isn’t. But I’d never mistake the look of a woman asking for help."

She swallows hard, and I see gratitude in her eyes.

"Thank you."

"You’re new, pretty, and judging by your clothes..." I gesture to her outfit, "rich too. But you can’t be naive if you’re going to dance in a place full of men. Especially men with money."

They think they can have and buy anything, including women.

She sighs, and for a moment, she looks even more vulnerable than before.

"You’re right. I just..." She pauses, as if trying to find the words. "I wanted to have fun. I’m tired of following rules and being stuck at home like a little dog waiting for its turn to go for a walk. So today I decided to grab my leash and take myself out."

My eyebrow arches, and I start laughing. I wasn’t expecting to hear something like that from her.

"You’re funny."

"And you’re not American," she points out, noticing my accent.

My blood turns to ice, the fear of being caught making my heart race, but I try to keep my expression neutral.

"I’m not."

"Where are you from?"

As innocent as she seems, I learned the hard way never to trust anyone. I take a deep breath, scanning the room before answering.

"I’m Brazilian, but my visa expired two weeks ago, and I can’t leave right now. There are people depending on my money, and that’s why I’m working here. The people at the club don’t require me to have legal status in the country to keep my job," I say quietly, making sure no one else can hear me.

I stick to Milena’s story, but I add a touch of drama to make the girl pity me. It always works.

People tend to be less harsh or cruel with someone who’s vulnerable, right?

"Wow! Your life is so interesting," she says, taking a sip of her purple drink.

Purple drink?

To protect her from herself, I end up taking the glass from her hand.

"What is this?" I ask.

"The bartender suggested it. I liked it, it’s sweet."

I throw the drink into the trash immediately. It’s worse than I thought.

"My God, girl! He could’ve put something in this. Never trust anything that’s too sweet or too good."

"Okay."

I grip her shoulders and look into her eyes. I need to make sure she hasn’t been drugged.

"Stay still."

"What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if you were drugged."

"You’re very suspicious."

"And you’re way too innocent. I can’t believe you came to this club alone tonight."

Once I realize she hasn’t been drugged, I step back and tie up my hair.

"Are you going to dance now?" she asks.

"Later."

"Can you teach me to dance before that?"

I frown, surprised.

"What?"

"I want to learn how to dance like you girls. You know, sensual like that." She points toward the dance floor, and I can’t help but smile.

"You’re so transparent I can’t help liking you."

"Then like me and teach me how to dance."

I laugh, shaking my head. She’s impossible. I glance at the clock on the wall and sigh.

Better to stay with her than risk running into David or some client who wants to "meet" me.

"I still have some break time left," I say.

"So?"

"You can consider today your lucky day. I’m going to teach you how to dance and be your friend."

My mother and I used to joke like that with each other, but now, saying it to someone else who doesn’t get the joke, it sounds way too arrogant.

Still, the blonde doesn’t seem to mind. She does a little jump of excitement, and I roll my eyes, but then I take her hand and lead her into an empty room. The whole place is red, with mirrors everywhere.

I step closer to her and hold out my hand for her phone. She gives it to me, and I choose a song on the app. "I See Red" by Everybody Loves an Outlaw starts playing, and I can’t help but smile.

The song matches the mood of the room perfectly.

"What’s your name?" I ask, watching her curiously.

"Amber. And yours?"

"Milena."

I step back and begin dancing slowly, smiling at her with deliberate sensuality. I see the spark in Amber’s eyes, the admiration for my movements.

She doesn’t say anything, but I know exactly what she’s thinking.

She wants to learn.

Because even if no girl wants to be treated like an object, every girl wants to be desired by the right person.

And to have power over them.

"Get ready, Amber, because once you learn how to dance, you’ll have any man you want at your feet."