Daphne's POV
I kept moving with the music, my body swaying to the rhythm, but my mind was somewhere else. No… someone else. Him.
Even though he was surrounded by men in expensive suits, talking business like the whole club was his private office, his eyes never left me. I could feel them. Burning. Tracing every move I made. And it made my skin shiver in ways I wasn't ready to admit.
When the song ended, the crowd cheered, bills flying at my feet. I forced a smile, bowed a little, and picked myself up as gracefully as I could, walking off the stage like none of this got to me. But inside, my chest was racing.
I had just reached the back when the manager stopped me. His hand on my arm, firm. Too firm.
"Daphne," he said. "Table seven." The old man in the gray suit. He asked for you.
My stomach dropped. That man. I noticed his eyes earlier, the way he looked at me, like I was already naked. My skin crawled at the thought of sitting next to him, letting him touch me.
"I—I can't," I whispered, shaking my head. "Please, anyone else. Not him."
The manager's face darkened, his jaw tight. Before he could explode, Natasha slid in, her lips curved in that knowing smirk.
"I'll go," she said, brushing past me with a wink. "Don't worry, babe." I got this one."
I exhaled, relieved, but it didn't last long.
The manager leaned closer, his voice low and sharp. "You think you can refuse customers?" Don't get too proud, Daphne. You're still new. One more stunt like this and you're done.
I froze, my throat tight, but he wasn't finished.
"Sunday night," he continued. "Exclusive bachelor party." You'll be there. No excuses. And this time you don't say no."
My blood ran cold. I wanted to scream, to run, but all I could do was nod faintly. Because here, saying no could cost me more than just my job.
Backstage felt different when the music wasn't blasting in my ears anymore. It was quieter, almost peaceful, like the noise outside belonged to another world.
I sat in front of the mirror, slowly wiping off the layers of makeup… the red lipstick, the heavy eyeshadow, and the glitter that stuck stubbornly to my skin. Piece by piece, I erased the girl on stage until only me was left, the plain Daphne who most people wouldn't even notice in the daylight.
I slipped into my jeans and hoodie, comfort wrapping around me like armor. Then I reached for my bag and pulled out my notebook. My fingers turned the pages quickly, my eyes scanning the words, desperate to remember formulas, definitions, anything that might save me tomorrow in class. Nobody at the university knew about this life I lived at night. They only saw Daphne the student, the quiet one who kept her head down. And that's the way I wanted it.
"Babe." Natasha's voice snapped me back. She was glowing, her smile sly but soft. She tossed her purse onto the vanity and leaned against the table.
"Thank you," I whispered, closing my notebook halfway. "For saving me back there." Again."
She shrugged like it was nothing, but I could see it in her eyes. She worried about me more than she let on. "You gotta be careful, Daphne." These men… they don't always take no nicely.
Before I could answer, the dressing room door burst open, and the other dancers filed in, laughing, chatting, fixing their hair like they hadn't just been drenched in sweat and dollar bills. The air filled with perfume, cigarette smoke, and stories about customers who tipped well, who didn't, who tried to cross the line.
Then the knock came. The envelope slid under the door. Everyone scrambled for it like it was treasure. We sat in a circle, counting our bills one by one, the sound of crisp money filling the room.
I stacked mine neatly, my mind drifting again. Tomorrow, I'd sit in a classroom with my classmates, pretending I had a normal night's sleep, pretending I wasn't living two lives. Pretending I wasn't slowly being pulled into something bigger, something I couldn't escape.
Dustin's POV
The moment she stepped on stage, I knew she was different.
I sat back in my seat, whiskey in my hand, while my business partners kept talking about boring deals. Their voices faded the second I saw her.
She was small, with sun-kissed skin and dark hair that shined under the lights. She didn't need to try hard to be noticed. Every move she made…slow, smooth, and confident pulled me in.
I told myself not to stare, but I couldn't stop. She wasn't just dancing. She was holding every man's attention without even meaning to.
"Mr. Taylor," one of the men beside me said, but I barely heard him. I only nodded, eyes still locked on the stage.
Then it happened, she looked my way. For a short moment, our eyes met. Something sharp, something hot, passed between us. She looked away too quickly, but it was too late. I had already felt it.
I leaned back, studying her with a slow sip of my drink. She looked like a woman with secrets. Like she didn't belong in a place like this, yet here she was.
I've met a lot of women before. But this one? She's not like the others. She's going to be trouble.
And I want trouble.
I raised my hand and caught the waiter's attention. My eyes didn't leave her as I said, "Send that dancer a bottle of your best…and make sure there's a cherry inside the glass."
Third Person's POV
Daphne Cohens is a twenty-four-year-old nursing student at the university with dreams far bigger than the walls of the club she worked in at night. By day, she blended in with her classmates…quiet, focused, and carrying her books like every other student. Nobody knew that when the sun went down, she stepped into a world of flashing lights, heavy music, and men who stared too long.
She kept her secret locked tight. For her, the club was only a means to survive. School fees, rent, food. It all had a price. Dancing gave her the money she needed, but she never let it define her. Beneath the makeup and stage lights, Daphne was still just a girl fighting for a better future.
Across the room, Dustin Taylor sat like he owned the place because men like him always carried that air. At thirty-four, he wasn't just another man at the club. He was a billionaire bachelor with sharp suits, sharper words, and an empire of companies that bowed to his name. To everyone else, he was untouchable, someone too powerful to even look at twice.
But when his eyes followed Daphne on stage, it wasn't the CEO staring. It was a man who had found something that pulled him in without reason.
Their worlds couldn't be more different, hers filled with late-night studying and quiet desperation, his lined with luxury and control. Yet in that smoky club, with music beating through the floor, fate seemed to push them closer.
And when the waiter placed the bottle with the single cherry on her table, Daphne's life began to change in ways she never expected.