"What's your name?" His tattooed fingers tapped my knee, his tone was flatter and more insistent this time, I swallowed hard. "Juliette Larson," I wasn't supposed to be talking to him, I wasn't supposed to be alone with him, Naomi said he didn't bother with the dancers.
"When did you start working for me, Juliette?" His Russian accent was harsh but seductive, his crystal blue eyes gazed down my body as I squirmed on his lap desperately wishing I could run away.
"A week ago," I was nervous but did my best not to show it. Men like him could smell fear, and they preyed upon you when they did.
"Dance for me," I barely ever saw him crack a smile, but he did when I began to dance for him.
I never wanted to be a stripper, I never wanted to be this, but sometimes, you have to play the cards you're dealt even if it's a shitty hand. You do what you need to survive even if you don't like what you're doing or who you've become.
----ALMOST COMPLETE & EDITING -----
** MATURE CONTENT **
STEAMY, KINKY, TW, AGE GAP, SEX, BDSM, CONTROLLING, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, RUSSIAN MAFIA, 365 DAYS SIMILAR PLOTLINE, LIGHT CNC REFERENCES, SLOWISHBURN
#2 in Rough 8/15/2024
#2 in Toxic 10/21/2024
#2 in Rated R 11/04/2024
#5 in Mafia 11/10/2024