My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113

“This isn’t working,” I said, “We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel. We need to up the stakes. Tomorrow, we’re not just dancing for whatever falls out of a drunk’s pocket.”

Mama D sighed, her hand moving from her ribs to her forehead. “Gianna, don’t start.”

“It’s not enough,” I said, “At this rate, we’re just buying ourselves a few more days of breathing. We aren’t winning.”

Mama D sighed, her hand trembling as she smoothed out a crumpled five. “We’re doing what we can, baby. We’re working the stage, we’re taking the shifts-”

“Then we change the stage,” I interrupted. I leaned forward, my elbows digging into my knees, the sequins of ray costume sparking. “We’re wasting our time in these basement clubs. We’re dancing for men who count their pennies. We need to go where the money doesn’t have a bottom.”

Mama D’s eyes narrowed, “What are you talking about, Gianna?”

“High society,” I said, the words f*eling cold on my tongue, “The private lounges. The nightclubs in the Diamond District where the entry f*e is more than a week’s worth of tips here. That’s where the real money is. That’s how we kill this debt before the month is up.”

“Gianna, no,” Mama D said, “Those places… they’re different. The security is tighter, but the men are more dangerous in a different way. They have power. They have lawyers. If one of them fixates on one of you girls, I won’t be able to hold them back. My word won’t mean a thing to them.”

I let out a long, frustrated groan, the sound vibrating in my chest. “Ugh, like anyone could anyway,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“And you?” She snapped, “You have too much on your plate already. You have your college classes. You have that fancy internship at your stepbrother’s office. You’re already running on empty, G. You can’t pull twelve-hour days at Orion Vector and then dance until four in the morning at a high-end club. You’ll tire yourself out until there’s nothing left of you,”

I looked at her, and for a second, I felt the weight of it all, the fraud models, the risk thresholds, the way Raphael looked at me like I was a bug under a microscope.

Then I looked at the purple bruise on her cheek. I looked at Morgan’s terrified eyes,

I felt something inside me lock into place. It was like a deadbolt sliding home. I wasn’t the scared girl on the park bench anymore. I was a woman.

“I won’t,” I said, “I’ll drink enough coffee to keep my heart racing. I’ll study in the back of the dressing rooms. I’ll do the filing at the office with a smile on my face while my muscles ache. I can pull all three, Mama D. I have to.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify