𝐍𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋. ᶜʰʳⁱˢ ᵇʳᵒʷⁿ

𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆?

𝐕𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♥
𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

The silence in the suite was suffocating, a heavy, oppressive weight that Nasir couldn't shake. He sat at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, replaying the confrontation with Camille in his mind.

"You've disrespected me. You've embarrassed me. You're showing me exactly why I didn't want you buying that damn strip club in the first place."

The anger in her voice. The betrayal in her eyes. It was like a dagger straight to the chest. And the worst part? He couldn't even defend himself. Not really.

Because Camille didn't know the half of it.

The woman in the video—the one grinding on him, smirking at the crowd, stirring up all this chaos—was Aria.

His Aria.

He hadn't planned it. Hell, he didn't even know Jason was going to pull that ridiculous stunt, handcuffing him to a chair in front of the whole damn club. At first, it was just a joke. He'd laughed it off, even as the crowd whooped and hollered.

But then she walked out.

The way Aria's hips swayed, the confidence in her stride, the teasing glint in her eyes—it had hooked him instantly. And when she'd climbed onto his lap, her scent intoxicating and her movements deliberate, Nasir hadn't even tried to stop her.

Why didn't he stop her?

That question haunted him now. He could lie to himself and say it was because of the crowd, the pressure to play along, but the truth was far more damning.

He didn't want to.

And that night—what started as an impulsive moment in front of a crowd spiraled into something far worse.

Nasir scrubbed a hand down his face, guilt pooling in his chest. He should've walked away after the performance, thanked her for the show, and left it at that. But instead, he found himself lingering. Talking to her. Letting the professional relationship turn into something deeper, something dangerous.