HIS STRIPPER, HIS WIFE novel Chapter 4

Chapter four

Bianca

By the time I got back to the changing room, my hands were still shaking. I locked the door behind me and dumped my bag on the counter, staring at myself in the mirror. My makeup was smudged at the corners of my eyes. My lips were swollen like I had been biting them too hard.

I took a deep breath and started peeling off the costume, replacing it with my regular clothes. Jeans, a plain black t-shirt, my old sneakers. The transformation from Scarlett back to Bianca should have felt like relief, but tonight it felt wrong. Like I had left something of myself in that VIP room that I couldn’t get back.

I sat down on the bench and pulled out all the money from my bag. My fingers moved mechanically, counting each bill twice to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. One hundred, two hundred, five hundred, a thousand. The numbers climbed higher and higher until I reached the final count.

Thirteen thousand dollars.

I stared at the neat stacks in front of me, my heart pounding. He had given me an extra thousand on top of everything else. Why? Was it guilt? A tip for breaking my own rules? Or was it something else, like he enjoyed the session?

It didn’t matter, what mattered was that I had enough. More than enough, ten thousand for Emma’s surgery deposit, and some left over to keep Fred happy.

I separated the bills carefully, ten thousand went into one pile, three thousand into another. My hands hesitated over the ten thousand, Fred would expect to see all of it.

The cameras in the general rooms caught everything, but the VIP area was different, no cameras, no witnesses, just me and that stranger and whatever had happened between us.

Fred would never know.

The thought made my stomach twist with guilt and excitement. I had never stolen from the club before. Never even thought about it, but this was different, this is for Emma. And it’s my tip in the first place

I stuffed the ten thousand into my jacket pocket, zipping it carefully. The remaining three thousand went back into my bag. I stood up, checked my reflection one more time, and walked out of the changing room with my head held high.

The hallway back to Fred’s office felt longer than usual. What if he knew? What if the Iceman said something?

No. The stranger didn’t seem like the type to talk to anyone about anything, especially not Fred.

I knocked on Fred’s office door twice. His voice barked from inside. “Come in.”

The office was exactly as disgusting as always. Stale cigarette smoke hung in the air, mixing with the smell of cheap cologne and something vaguely resembling fast food. Fred sat behind his desk, his belly pressing against the edge, a half-eaten burger in one hand.

“Well?” He looked up at me with greedy eyes. “How much did the Ice King give you?”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the three thousand, placing it on his desk in neat stacks. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Three grand?” He whistled low, reaching for the money and counting it quickly with practiced fingers. “Not bad, sweetheart. Not bad at all.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. Say something, notice something. Ask why it’s only three thousand for a VIP room that usually brings in more.

But Fred was already shoving the money into his desk drawer, his attention already moving on to whatever other shady business he had going. He pulled out a few bills from the stack and tossed them across the desk at me.

“Your cut. Five hundred.” He grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “You did good tonight, Scarlett. Real good. I’ll send them a message at the front desk to get your regular pay ready too.”

I picked up the five hundred and stuffed it into my pocket without counting it. “Thanks, Fred.”

“That guy booked you again, you know.” Fred leaned back in his chair, said he wants you again tomorrow. Same time, same room.”

My stomach dropped. “He did?”

“Yep. Whatever you did there, he liked it.” Fred’s grin widened into something that made my skin crawl. “Keep him happy, sweetheart. Clients like that are worth their weight in gold.”

I forced myself to nod, “I will.”

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