Open Your Heart

Chapter 8

"Are you kidding me?" Chardenay lifted a brow at the hellhound, who huffed his response. "I was loaned out to you by Ruskov for dancing, which I don't even do, because you begged him. Private dances were not part of the deal." Turning, he started walking around the changing room, gathering his things.

"Please, please, please." The man followed behind him, his hands clenched together in front of him in his desperation. As Char grabbed his change of clothes out of the bag, he started moving to one of the vanities to take off his makeup. "Look... how about I..." The man looked around quickly as Char stopped and gave him a droll stare. "How about this: you do the this one private dance and I'll pay you extra." Char narrowed his eyes on the man. "Off the books. We don't have to tell Ruskov about it at all. How about that?" Thinking over the proposition, he bit his lip.

"How much is this dance gonna net you?" The man swallowed hard, so he crossed his arms. Pursing his lips, he thought over several things involving the club. It was in a decent part of the point, so it was nice but nothing like Valentino's studios. It was small, and not super busy, but it managed to stay afloat just fine. Mixing all of that with how desperate the man clearly was for him specifically for this private dance, meaning he'd been requested, he figured he had a fairly good guess for the price. "So, I'm guessing you're gonna make about two hundred off this private dance, which is a lot for what? Ten minutes? And then you were planning on giving me an extra ten bucks for it, right? Keeping yourself a nice one ninety." He watched the canine's face closely and smiled as the man's face fell. Barking a laugh, he shook his head. "Oh no, I'm more expensive than that if you wanna use me and not tell Ruskov. I charge half profit for that shit."

"Half?! Are you outta your mind?! You cocky son-of-a-" Char turned on the man and stood tall, easily staring down at the man since he was taller.

"You're the one begging here, Mal, not me. I'm ready to get off for the night, and doing a private dance wasn't in my plans. You wanna ruin my plans and not get in trouble with Ruskov, you pay me half." As he spoke, he made sure his tail was waving behind his shoulders, lifted high enough to confirm his threat. The hellhound growled lightly before huffing once more.

"Alright fine, you get half. But just... be really good to this client, okay? He's very important." Char narrowed his gaze on the man.

"Important? How?" With that, he started getting ready to do the dance, making sure what he wore was easy to get off.

"If this guy publicizes my joint, I could rake in so much dough... I might even be able to take you from Ruskov." With that Chardenay burst into laughter. The mere idea of anyone buying him off of the mosquito was a fantasy.

"That ain't gonna happen. Don't worry, I'll treat him nice, but get the notion that Ruskov would sell any of his whores to you out of your head." When the hellhound scowled at him, he shook his head. "It's nothing against you personally, it's just that he's too selfish, arrogant and controlling to sell any of us to anyone." Quickly fixing his makeup, he straightened himself and started for the door. "Which room is this big wig in, again?" The canine smiled and ran to lead him down the hall and out to the private rooms. The hall had several small rooms lined up, but the one on the end was the largest of them all, since it was the VIP room. Once they were standing outside the door, Mal grabbed his arm with a squeeze.

"Don't fuck this up. If you do, I'll blame it all on you when I tell Ruskov what happened." Char rolled his eyes at the threat.

"Yeah, yeah. And he'll believe you too." With that, the hound turned on the ball of his paw and scurried back to the front of the club. Taking a deep breath, Char slipped into the room and closed the door, his back to the client. "So, what were you wanting, hmm? Just a dance, or a little bit mo-" He turned as he spoke, starting to open the robe he had on over the very scant outfit he wore. The moment he laid eyes on the man opposite him, he stopped talking and closed the robe back up. "Hen. What the fuck?"