Chapter 6: Uneasy Truce in a Viper's Nest

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Contessa stared at the wad of cash clutched in her hand, a triumphant grin splitting her face. Tonight. After six years of relentless grinding, stripping, selling her body and nights spent yearning for a life beyond the stale glitter and pulsating bass, tonight she was leaving. The escape fund – enough for a bus ticket to a city on the other coast, a small apartment deposit, and a few weeks of living expenses – was complete. Freedom, so close she could almost taste the unfamiliar sweetness of anonymity.

Tonight was her only off night for the month, a precious escape from the pulsing music, the leering eyes, and the suffocating confines of Mama June's Dollhouse. Except, Mama June always had a way of throwing wrenches into plans. As Contessa entered the dressing room, the air thick with cheap perfume and nervous chatter, Mama materialized in the doorway, her face a thundercloud.

"Peaches got the stomach flu," she barked, her voice laced with annoyance. "Need you to fill in. Full house tonight, big spenders. We can't exactly turn them away, can we?"

Contessa gritted her teeth. Peaches, the club's most "experienced" dancer, rarely missed a night. This "illness" was likely a well-timed hangover. The frustration bubbled up, threatening to spill over.

Contessa's escape plan felt like a sandcastle under a tidal wave. This was her only day off all month, the one sliver of time meticulously carved out for her grand exit. Panic clawed at her throat.

"But mama, I—"

"What?" Mama June interrupted, an eyebrow raised.

Contessa knew the rules. Saying no is not an option, it could easily become a complication she couldn't afford.

But another delay meant another month trapped in this gilded cage. So with a deep breath, Contessa countered. "Double pay, and I need another night off tomorrow."  She can't stay another month but she can wait for one more night. She could catch a later bus.

Mama June's painted brows shot up. "Double pay? Honey, you know the club's rates."

"Peaches doesn't get sick, Mama June," Contessa countered, her voice surprisingly steady. "Consider it an inconvenience fee."

Silence hung heavy for a moment. Mama June's eyes narrowed, but a flicker of something akin to respect flickered in their depths.  She finally sighed.

"Alright, alright," Mama June conceded. "Double pay and an extra night off. But you better make it worth my while tonight, Contessa. We've got some high rollers expecting a show."

Contessa nodded curtly, the taste of victory bitter on her tongue. Pushing down the disappointment, she grabbed her makeup bag. One more night, she reminded herself. One more night, then freedom.

...

The rhythmic clink of ice against glass was Marco's soundtrack to most evenings. Tonight, however, the familiar melody was drowned out by a discordant note – the sight of Contessa. Usually, on her rare off nights, she arrived in sweats and a messy bun, escaping the glitz and glam of the stage. But tonight, she was a vision in crimson. Her dress clung to her curves, its fiery hue mirroring the heat in her eyes.

Marco blinked, momentarily unsure if he was hallucinating. It was supposed to be her night off. The night they've been whispering about for months, the night that promised escape from Mama June's gilded cage.

"Contessa?" Marco stammered, setting the glass down with a nervous clink. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be...?"

A small, brittle smile stretched across her lips. "Hey, stranger," she said, her voice strained.

Marco's brow furrowed. "what's going on? I thought..."

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