Page 35 of Heart of Sin

Amaryllis shakes her head and walks away. The club hasn’t even opened yet. I won’t be hitting the stage for another hour. More than enough time to get my shit together. I thank Quinton with a wink when he provides the third shot and then head backstage.

It’s been a long day. It’ll probably be a long night.

My first one back on the stage in weeks.

To say I’m nervous is an understatement. I shouldn’t be—I’ve been dancing since I was seventeen (the club I worked at at the time looked the other way).

But something’s different about tonight.

I close my eyes and force thoughts of my breakup with Louis out of my head.

Bottom line: I did what I had to do.

He’ll move on and so will I. It’s not like our relationship was ever going to last. Deep down we both knew it. For a while, we might’ve fooled ourselves and pretended we could make it work, but that was nothing more than wishful thinking.

The reason I never do relationships in the first place. The feelings become too real. Too intense.

Now I’m stuck with a sick feeling in my stomach and it’s not from the Patron.

I blow out a slow breath. “Get a grip, T. You got this. You knew what it was. It’s for the best.”

There was no other option. Even if I wanted things to be different—and I’m struggling because my heart’s involved and it wishes it could be—I have no other choice.

My hand’s been forced.

Louis doesn’t need to know the truth. He’ll do the knight-in-shining-armor thing and try to rescue me from the situation. He’ll only make it worse, and it’ll put Zara and Mom in danger.

Nobody and nothing comes before Zara. So, if Louis has to hate me, then let him hate me.

I’ll be indebted the rest of my life if it means she gets to stay safe.

But there was one piece of information I told Louis that was correct—I really do have a new client. A multimillionaire named Kilroy, an occasional visitor at the club, went straight to Randall and requested me as his long-term girlfriend. They drafted up a contract and he reallyispaying more than Louis was.

Funny how I’ll be doing all the work and seeing the least money. After Randall’s cut, the money I send back home to care for Zara, Tiffany, and Ramon, and the cut I’m indebted for, I’m left with enough to pay my bills and that’s it.

Even the pay raises don’t matter because the cuts taken out simply go up.

Guys like Randall and Big D set it up that way. A hard lesson I learned a long time ago.

“There you are,” Randall says, flashing a grin. He’s wearing another cheap polyester suit that reeks of even cheaper cologne. “You’re not working the stage or VIP rooms tonight. Kilroy’s requested you start a little early. He’s sent a driver. You’ll be spending tonight at his suite.”

I almost protest. My gaze slides over to the stage entrance.

Minutes ago, I was dreading taking the stage tonight. A night with Kilroy sounds worse.

Nothing against him. From the brief time I’ve spent around him, he seems alright. But my mind’s not in the right place to entertain—I can’t fulfill whatever fantasy he’ll want. He’s paid out the ass to have me, which means he’s expecting my A game.

I’m D level at best right now. I can’t even imagine having sex with him when Louis is the only man I’m thinking about in that way. Before him, it never mattered.

This is exactly why I never let myself catch feelings.

“Tasha,” Randall says. “You’re not going to blow this, right? Kilroy asked for the best I had. I gave your name. Don’t fuck it up. He has a whole rolodex of associates we can pick up as customers. Got it?”

My insides do a flip, the sick feeling growing worse. Instead of answering, I nod.

“Good girl. Go get cleaned up. You’re looking a little sloppy.” He taps me on the ass before he walks off.

I wait for him to disappear down the hall before heading to the front of the club. He says I need to clean up, but what I need is another shot if I’m going through with tonight.