Chapter 2 Elara's POV

I pointed my toes and arched my back gracefully in the hands of Lucien, my ballet partner, as we danced together to the rhythm of the calm music playing in the studio. Beads of sweat covered my forehead, and exhaustion tugged at my body.

Sleep had been elusive the entire night, knowing that some ruthless crime boss would come for his money soon. With the frequent letters we received, I had a gnawing feeling that he would arrive any day now.

As if that wasn't enough, those piercing, ocean-blue eyes haunted my dreams, sending shivers down my spine.

"Ouch!" Lucien exclaimed suddenly, releasing me as he twisted his foot.

My face flushed as I realized I had accidentally stepped on his toes.

"I'm so sorry, Lucien! That was a mistake," I said quickly, guilt washing over me.

Lucien winced, his face contorting in pain as he rubbed his foot.

"Elara, what's going on?" Cassandra, our ballet instructor, asked as she walked over.

"I'm so sorry, Cassandra. I didn't mean to hurt him," I apologized again, mortified.

The soft music came to an abrupt halt. Cassandra sighed and gestured for a break. "Everyone, take five. Lucien, come with me-I'll get you some ointment for your toes."

I watched as Lucien limped away with Cassandra. Guilt prickled at me for my clumsiness. I really needed to control my spiraling thoughts during practice.

I slumped onto the wooden studio floor, letting my back hit the cool surface. The sounds of chatter and laughter filled the air as my fellow dancers reveled in the much-needed break.

"Elara, you look so stressed," Tessa, my best friend, said as she sat beside me, concern etched across her face.

"I'm just tired. That last routine was a tough one," I admitted, wiping the sweat from my temples.

"You need to relax, hun. Go to a club or something-have some fun," Tessa teased with a lopsided grin.

If only she knew how often I went to the club-but not for fun.

"Anyway," she continued with a sly smile, "I heard Ryan likes you!"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not interested."

Tessa gasped dramatically. "Oh! Wait-it's because you like Ethan, isn't it?"

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I looked away. "I do, but I've been so busy. Besides, I'm way too shy to tell him how I feel."

Tessa grinned, poking my side. "Well, make time! You never know-he might like you back."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. The idea of Ethan reciprocating my feelings seemed far-fetched, but it was nice to dream.

"All right, everyone, back on your toes!" Cassandra's sharp voice cut through the chatter. "We have a performance this afternoon, and I don't want to see any mistakes."

With a sigh, I stood and joined the others. We moved back into formation and began the routine from the top.

---

Before I knew it, the sun had set, and the city was once again cloaked in darkness. I stood at the entrance of the club, exhaustion pulling at my every step. I felt like a bee-constantly busy, with no time to rest.

The familiar buzz of the dressing room greeted me as I pushed open the door. The chatter of women preparing for their performances filled the air.

"Elara, you're early today!" Amara's cheerful voice called out as she rushed over to hug me.

I smiled, hugging her back. "Of course. I need to get ready for my performance."

"How could you not, with the crazy amount of money you made last night?" Violetta scoffed, glancing at me as she applied mascara.

"Give her a break, Vilu. You made just as much on your first day," Amara shot back.

Violetta muttered something under her breath but didn't press the issue.

"Anyway, the boss wants to see you," Amara added, turning to me.

I blinked in confusion. "Why?"

Violetta sneered. "We've been here longer, and he's never asked for us privately. You must've sucked your way to the top."

"I didn't do anything!" I protested, though my voice trembled with uncertainty.

"Don't mind her," Amara said reassuringly. "It's probably a good thing. The boss pays well."

Amara handed me a revealing dress and guided me to a chair. Within twenty minutes, her magic hands transformed me. I barely recognized myself in the mirror-I looked older, sexier.

"Don't worry," she said with a wink. "You'll do great. Just do your thing."

A bald man stepped into the room, his sharp eyes scanning the space before landing on me.

"She's ready," Amara told him.

"Good. The boss is waiting," Bruno said curtly.

My stomach churned as I followed him down the dimly lit hallway. My thoughts spiraled as we neared the private lounge.

Would the boss be a middle-aged man? Hairy and rugged?

Bruno opened the door, and I stepped into the lavish room. The marble walls gleamed under the soft glow of a chandelier, and a podium stood in the center of the space.

Seated on a velvet sofa was a man whose arm rested lazily around a blonde woman puffing on a cigarette. My breath caught as his cold, blue eyes locked with mine.

It was him.

The man from the other night.

Now, up close, he was even more striking. His silver hair fell in soft waves over his broad shoulders, and his chiseled jawline could cut glass.

"Leave us," he commanded the blonde, his voice dark and commanding.

She scowled but didn't argue, sauntering out of the room.

"Elara Quinn," he said, his baritone voice slicing through the silence.

"Yes?" I stammered. "How do you know my name?"

He chuckled, leaning back. "I know much more than just your name."

"You have a debt to pay off," he said, his tone dripping with menace.

"How-how do you know?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I am the one your father owes," he replied, his tone husky and dark.

My stomach dropped. Matteo DeLuca. The man my father had gambled with-and lost.

"You can't pay back my money with the chicken scraps you earn," he mocked. "But I can make this simple for you.

Get naked for me."

I swallowed hard, panic clawing at my chest.

"I can't do that," I said, my voice trembling as I tried to sound brave. But my shaking hands betrayed me.

Matteo chuckled, low and cold. "Do it. You can't pay back my money otherwise. Consider this a down payment."

He leaned back into the velvet couch, his icy blue gaze sweeping over me like I was his prey.

With a shaky breath, I began to undress, my hands trembling as I pulled off each layer. I couldn't believe what I was doing-what this man was forcing me to do.

When I was completely exposed, his eyes raked over me with an intensity that made me want to crawl into a hole. He didn't touch me, but his gaze alone was enough to make my skin crawl.

"Now," he said, his tone commanding, "go to the pole and dance for me."

I hesitated, shame burning through me as I walked toward the stage. Gripping the cold metal pole, I closed my eyes, willing myself to imagine music as I began to move.

The room was silent except for the faint rustle of my movements. I could feel his gaze, sharp and unyielding, watching every twist and sway of my body.

"You can stop," Matteo finally said, his deep voice breaking the silence.

Relief flooded me, and I immediately let go of the pole, breathing heavily.

"Come here," he ordered.

I hesitated but obeyed, my feet dragging as I approached him.

"Sit," he commanded, patting his lap.

My stomach turned, but I did as he asked, perching awkwardly on his thighs. He shifted me closer until I was sitting directly over his hard arousal.

"Grind," he said, his voice a low growl.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I moved my hips, my body trembling with humiliation. I hated this. Hated how powerless I felt under his control.

"Harder," Matteo groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.

I bit my lip to keep from crying out, my movements mechanical as I did what he wanted.

After what felt like an eternity, he exhaled deeply and said, "You can stop."

I scrambled off his lap, tears still streaming down my face. Matteo stood and towered over me, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a checkbook.

With deliberate precision, he wrote a check and handed it to me. My eyes widened as I saw the amount-three hundred thousand dollars.

"Till we meet again, dear Elara," Matteo said, a mischievous smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

He walked out of the lounge without a backward glance, leaving me standing there, trembling, with the check clutched in my hand.