Prologue

People have classified me as the beautiful untouchable daughter of a particularly evil man since the earliest time I can remember. I hated for people to call me beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, or any stereotypical name that means pretty. I didn’t feel pretty, not by a long shot. I grew up in an ugly world, and I never understood how I was supposed to feel as if I deserved anything representing beauty. I met and fell in love with an ‘employee’ of my father’s, and when he wouldn’t condone our relationship and killed the man I loved right before my own eyes, I bolted. I waited and waited until I found my chance to escape. I took all my savings and never looked back. Just one more reason I didn’t feel pretty.

If I were gorgeous, then why wouldn’t I have a beautiful life to go with my beauty? I left a cold trail to make sure he could never find me, and I chose a career that would put him to shame if he were to catch up with me somehow. I used my expensive dance lessons for something entirely new. That was how I found my pretty. I felt raw, wanted, and it felt incredible, but that was nothing compared to what I felt when I met him. The man who seized me from the moment my eyes locked with his. A man that lived the same world I was hiding from. I had run straight from one hell to another…and I didn’t know if I would make it out of this one alive.

1

There are only our bodies humming together in a beautiful dance, our pole acting as our man, nothing but the feel of pretty paid at our own expense. Hazel and I smile at one another, leaning back into our double stargazer. Her foot hooks with mine as we use our strength to spin us around, ending our salute to the never-ending f**ktards that come here to jack off to something they can never have. This isn’t your typical strip club. We are classy, and if you’re caught sleeping with cliental, you’re gone. You want one of us then you give up the rights to be in here. The boss does not do old men; never has and never will, or so that’s what Hazel tells me. I’ve been here for six months. Never seen any problems, so I’m just taking her word on it but then again, no one has caught my eye since losing Allen.

“They’re back,” Hazel whispers to me as we pick up our clothes and our tips.

I groan. Not this again. I’ve told them countless times no. I’m not doing it. They remind me of what I’m running from.

“Star, Hazel,” Pyro greets with a sexy nod.

“God… he’s so hot,” Hazel whispers.

I roll my eyes at Pyro and the few other club members staring at Hazel and me. We walk down off the stage and flop down in some chairs as one of the waitresses brings us our after dance drinks. Hazel is practically purring in my ear; she has this thing for Pyro, but he won’t have at her for some reason. She’s unbelievably beautiful in that exotic way. Hazel is tall and Hawaiian. I would consider Pyro g*y, but he’s the vice president of Breakneck or so his cut says, so I know he has about at least ten girls a week.

“C’mon Pyro, I ain’t got all night,” I say already exasperated.

Hazel throws a look at me. Great, she’s going to lay into me hard when we get home. She hates when I run Pyro off before she has time to try to charm him. Normally I would laugh, but the girl found me and took me in, showed me the ropes and has been my best friend and sister ever since.

“Star, babe, give me a break will ya; it’s for the Prez’s birthday,” Pyro drawls sexily.

Pyro had been on this kick since he saw me dance three weeks ago. Other girls take private gigs, but I’m not one of them. Besides, I know they have their own little gaggle of whores they could get to do a few pole tricks.

I lean on the table with my elbows and look directly into his green eyes. “The answer is still no Pyro. I’ve never done a private gig before, and I don’t wanna start either by getting some fat biker president’s dick hard.”

All four of them start laughing. I don’t see what’s funny about this. I just dissed their leader, and they’re laughing. Apparently, the jokes lost on me.

“He ain’t old, and he ain’t fat sugar,” Pyro chuckles.

What do they mean he ain’t old? He’s the president. He ain’t young, I can tell you that much. I feel Hazel kick my leg with her damn stiletto, and I grunt. She wants me to take this gig only if they allow her to do it too. Anything so she can get more of Pyro. I owe her so much that if she weren’t here beside me right now, I would decline again, but disappointing her is not something I wanna do.

Sighing, I give in. “I’ll dance for your fat guy if Hazel can dance with me too.”

I get a few happy grunts, an extremely sexy smirk from Pyro and a squeal from Hazel. Yeah, glad I could make everyone happy. What the hell about me?

“Babe, you just rocked my world.” Pyro smiles as he gets up from the table. “Tomorrow, ten pm at this address.” He hands me a card. “I’ll take care of your shifts here. Your boss owes me some favors.”

And just like that, they’re gone, and I’m left with my giddy best friend and a business card for their club. It’s an hour drive. They had better pay us well.

“Winter,” Lana hollers for me. I love how easy it is for us to fall into our real names when we’re away from the club.

“Yeah,” I say, flipping on our kitchen light.

“Can you believe this shit? We’re gonna be dancing at Breakneck tomorrow night. But I feel as your best friend, it’s my duty to inform you that he’s not old, and he’s not fat.”