𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞

Chapter Four

..............

She didn't want to crumble or move; she wanted to sleep, wake up replenished, and in a safer landing. But the world owed Imani nothing, and therefore, she had to set aside what she considered unfair and go to work. Those bills had to be paid; caesar had to be given what belonged to him.

She had just left Jamie crying at the top of his voice. She had tried soothing him until Mrs. Fernandos shooed her away, telling her if she didn't go already, she would be late for work. Imani stood, then leaned down to kiss Jamie's forehead and left, her heart heavy and sad, running to catch the train. She was wearing blue jeans, a mustered knitted sweater, a checked blazer, and black canvas, but her change of clothes were inside the bag she carried. Black, laced underpants.

She wasn't sad or bothered about what she did; she never has. Life had taught Imani that shame was a luxury she couldn't afford.

When she got to the club, Ben was waiting for her at the door, pacing. He seemed agitated; for some reason, his forehead furrowed. "Where he have you been?" he shouted, staring down at Imani.

"Home, " She responded calmly, looking around to see whether anyone was around. She didn't want to be dressed down in front of an audience.

"What's the matter, Ben?" she asked in a low voice, taking a step towards him.

"He is already here." he threw her a strange look that she did not understand, then told her to go change as soon as possible.

"Im not late, Ben."

It was her only defense, and it was valid.

"It doesn't matter; if he gets here before you, you're late. He is not early. "

Well, she thought, running to the locker room to change. The world sure had different rules for the rich.

After changing, Imani walked to Matthew's room on shaky legs, her heart beating faster than usual with anticipation of what was to come. She was a nervous wreck. Terrified that she might do something wrong and not only lose this gig but her job for offending one of their biggest clients.

Entering the room, he had already turned on neon lights; the stereo softly played slow Italian music; she knew because there was a time she had practiced Italian music only.

"Welcome, Capri." his voice, exactly as she remembered it, timbre, strong with a hint of command, but it had an additional something this time, awareness or rather, recognition.

He was seated on his usual black leather couch, his coat neatly folded beside him, leg across the kneel, and his hands stretched out across the back of the sofa. It was the second time Imani had seen Matthew,  yet it seemed like the first time. He looked different yet the same.

"I'm well, Mr. Ocean," she said, even though he hadn't exactly greeted her, walking to the center of the stage. The pole beckoning her. She had done her hair the previous day; it was shiny and curled at the edges.

"Music, " he muttered. It didn't sound like a statement or a question, and she didn't know how to make of it. Suddenly spinning, her eyes a little wide in confusion, Matthew smiled. A slight smile transforming his face. Imani stared at him in wonder, not because he looked gorgeous with a smile but because she didn't think he smiled often.

"Choose a song, " he said in a low voice, almost in a whisper. If it were anyone else, she would have thought he was flirting with her.

But a billionaire with the choice of any woman in the universe wouldn't go for a stripper.

This time, the choice of music was different. She chose R&B, rock, and rap. She danced to love songs with longing and heartbreak, portraying the emotions in every twist and turn. Though she looked sexy as hell while she danced, Matthew could feel her emotions in her dance. He felt her sadness, her joy, the slight resemblance of a smile, and the seductive way she threw her hair when she crawled, the way she stretched her booty before swinging on the pole. In a way, she was communicating, speaking to him using her very elaborate dance. Matthew remained in his seat, mesmerize, baffled, and ensnared.