Rosa

Chapter 28

At 10:30 pm—sharp—Rosa approached the entrance to the Pigmalión. It didn't take her long to find Cristiano's man, Esteban. The great, burly man was the size of a mountain. Hard to miss. He welcomed her inside. Once Rosa entered the strip club, a sense of déjà vu drifted over her. The interior sights and sounds and smells reminded her of the clubs she used to work in.

Except on a much grander scale.

The vibe inside was dark and moody. Cigar smoke and perfume drenched the air. Sky-high ceilings on the first floor opened to a large second floor balcony, offering views of the dancers from every angle of the club. An array of bright neon purple, pink, and blue lights outlined the main stage with bars, tables, and chairs wrapped around it. Sultry electronica music thumped from the speakers while topless women in tiny G-strings, some with tassels on their nipples, shimmied across the stage and slithered up and down metal poles with the grace and athleticism of a gymnast.

Comparatively, Rosa was dressed rather modestly. She wore a long black trenchcoat and black knee-high stilettoed boots, similar to the outfit she had donned on her Lavigne assignment in Marseille. Underneath her coat, however, she wasn't strapped into the corset Cristiano had picked out for her in Afrodita.

A conscious choice on her part.

If their relationship wouldn't be going any further in its present state, Rosa felt no need to cater to Cristiano's whims and fancies. She would be a fool to waste any more time and effort—than necessary, of course, to collect her paycheck—on a man like him.

Only fools fell in love.

Because they could afford to fuck up.

Rosa was no fool, she couldn't afford to fuck up, and she had certainly never known love. Not even with Mesrine. Not real love, anyway. Yet, instinct told her that Cristiano was the kind of man a woman should never attach herself to too deeply.

In defiance, she skipped the corset and instead chose something else from her personal collection to wear: A rich burgundy balconette bra and panty set made of a lush velvet fabric.

Fuck him—for being such a fuckable yet stone-cold bastard.

Earlier in the day, Cristiano tried to make peace with Rosa. Yet again.

Please listen to me. I know what I said was not easy to hear, but I do care about you—

Rosa gave him the cold shoulder. Yet again.

I never asked for anyone to care about me.

Her woman's pride had already been stung. She wasn't one to let her guard down again after the shit he said to her. Disappointment and heartache seemed inevitable if she didn't heed his warning.

Cristiano left their motel room soon after.

She hadn't heard from him since then.

Rosa convinced herself that this was better in the long run. To detach herself from him. As she did with all other people in life. To be his partner in crime. Nothing more.

In truth, though, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were acting more like a pair of feuding lovers than anything else.

"Everything alright, señorita?" asked Esteban with a cough.

Rosa blinked several times, shaking herself from her stupor. "I am fine. Sorry. Please lead the way."

This wasn't the time to be distracted.

The giant man nodded. "They are waiting upstairs."

With a disappointed sigh directed mostly at herself, Rosa followed Esteban up the stairs to the second floor. He led her down a long corridor to a private VIP room.