His Exclusive Stripper: You Are Mine, Don

Evelyn’s POV.

“This man is just taking too long,” I grumbled while tapping my pen on the desk.

I was wasting enough time as it was, listening to a lecture I had already read a lot about, and the man had nothing new to offer.

When the professor said the last sentence, I was standing up. With my back strapped over my shoulder and my notebook in hand, I left the class of murmuring students through the back door. I was already late.

This professor for the semester's course was always so damned slow, I whined in my head. It was already 5 pm now, and yet I could not go grocery shopping or get my nails done... it was a long list of things I had to do.

I quickly reached the bus stop in time because the bus had just arrived. “Ticket, please,” the driver said, and I handed it to him. He punched a hole in it and handed it back to me, and I moved in to find a free seat at the back of the bus, where I wouldn’t be disturbed.

I was proud of being able to support myself through college. Now, I am in my last year as a business administration major. If only the job that I had was something I could openly talk about. Being a stripper was the only thing that could pay my bills in the way I needed them to, and it was where I met my boyfriend so that I couldn't be so ungrateful.

The bus stopped right before the grocery shop, and I hurried out. I had to be home within the next thirty minutes if I was going to be able to get my nails done on time. It was either that or I would have to ask one of the other girls in the club to do them for me quickly. They always did a shabby job, and I didn't trust anyone but myself to care for my things—makeup, nails, and hair.

I used the self-checkout counter and speedily scanned what I had picked, paying with my credit card and leaving the grocery store in quick strides.

Once I got home, I replaced my glasses with contact lenses, which amplified the glow of my eyes. My manager said they were gorgeous eyes and made me look exotic.

It increased the allure of my face, and I could understand why no one could ever link the idea that daytime me was a glasses-wearing, sweatpants, jeans, and hoodie-clad girl. Eve, my persona for performances, was anything but a quiet, introverted girl from college.

Before I had a shower and began to do my hair, I heated the frozen pizza meal I had gotten, grating extra parmesan cheese on it before eating two delicious slices. Usually, I did not eat until I got home after work, so this was the only chance I would have before then.

Contrary to what most people thought, most of us working at the strip club always stayed in our homes with a face full of makeup. It would be a dead giveaway to the neighbors, too.

I waved to Mrs. Dedrick, who watched me leave from the third floor with a polite smile. She always gave me those looks, and I didn't have the nerve to ask her why.

“Where to?” The taxI driver asked me as I boarded, and I gave him the address. How he hesitated after hearing it made me want to roll my eyes at him. If he wanted to judge a paying customer, that was his choice.

Seconds later, he shifted his car into gear and began to drive, muttering something I didn’t care to hear under his breath.

I was used to others' looks and whispering behind my back or under their breath about me and my work. Of course, they never dared to say such things to my face because most of them were cowards.

I had lost both my parents, who were only children of their parents and had been plunged into a world with no one to hold onto who would support me and care about me.

To me, keeping myself going this far alone was an accomplishment, no matter how I did it.

As the taxI rolled up to the strip club, I saw the neon signs loud and clear. Delight’s Strip Club, the signage said, along with the image of a woman in lingerie.

After paying the disgruntled driver my fare, I quickly exited the cab and rushed towards the back door. I passed the dimly lit entrance, with a short queue of about four or five men waiting for the bouncers to search their bodies.

I spotted my boyfriend's platinum blonde hair, though, as he searched the body of one of the men. As if I had called his name, Charlie raised his head and spotted me. Our eyes met, and I felt warmth and joy from seeing him.

“Hey,” I smiled at him, and he nodded and winked.

My boyfriend, Charlie, was a charmer. I liked everything about him; his six-foot height and bulk made me feel safe and protected. Even his crude humor, which I could only shake my head at with a rueful smile when he spouted jokes.

I often wondered if he cared that his girlfriend was a stripper, but once, when I asked him about it, he shrugged and replied that he had dated an escort once and was used to the life of girls like me. I didn’t want to think about that too much, but I was happy he loved me as I was.

But I had to take my mind off him, for I was shortly prepping for my set.

The other girls were loudly talking about one thing or the other, making good background noise. The music's bass pounded through the entire club, even in the dressing room. And it was igniting a fire inside me like it always did.

Gone was the sweatpants set, and I put on the black lace lingerie set and black platform studded heels for the stage performance I would be having. It also came with matching satin gloves and a mask. I applied dark red lipstick and liked how it put everything together. I was ready.

And I heard my name being called. It was time for Eve to dance.

Evelyn’s POV.

Immediately after my set, I performed on the lovely stage. I changed into a blue lace set with a leather harness that cinched my already tiny waist even more, and I joined the girls who entertained the regulars around the club.

The night was somewhat slow, but I didn't hate it. I immensely enjoyed easy days like this, especially with the regulars. It was the weekday, and most of the men who came were running on fumes from work and just needed some time to relax. They also didn't have much time to spend, as they would have to soon return home to their families. I was disgusted at these men with wives waiting for them at home. But I wasn't complaining because it got my bills paid.

I didn’t notice the commotion outside until I heard one of the patrons who sat at the end—closest to the strip club's front door —loudly curse.

My brows furrowed as I left another patron with my tips tucked tightly in my hand.

What was going on? I heard a thud and a groan that sounded like... Like my boyfriend.

Alarm bells rang in my head, and I rushed outside, moving quickly to be by his side. I saw it - he was lying on the floor with a man stomping on his head. And our manager was there?

I rushed to his side.

“Charlie!” I shrieked, grasping his face gently and glaring at anyone who would dare come close. I noticed that his hair was matted with blood. And my fury rose even more.

“What did you do to him?” I put steel behind my voice, not caring that the men looked down at me as if I were nothing. I longed to drag my long, fake nails down their faces for what they did to my boyfriend... How dare they...

“This one’s got a mouth on her,” I heard one of the men say with a smirk, and I glared at him. He shut up instantly.

“Eve, go inside,” the manager tried to calm me down. Even with the dim red lights, I could see sweat beads forming on his forehead. This has nothing to do with you, so go. You have a job to do.”

His words only annoyed me further, and I slapped his hand away, standing up straighter and leveling my manager with a defiant look. Charlie was still bowled over beside me, clearly out of breath and beaten up, and he wanted me to go inside?!

“I won't,” I replied coldly, turning my gaze to the tallest man in the place. He had a coat on and was dressed in all black, unlike the other men around him who wore suits. He was the Boss around there.

“What did he ever do to you?” I asked the man accusingly. “What crime did he commit?”

“That...” I was struck by the deepness of the baritone voice coming out of that youthful face. “Is between me and the man in question. Nothing to do with you... Eve, was it?” the last words were punctuated with a look up and down my body. I could practically feel how he looked at me, as if he was gauging if I was even good enough to be in his presence. And it annoyed the fuck out of me to quote Charlie’s favorite statement.

“So you dare to come here and attack one of the bouncers for what reason?” My anger knew no bounds. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“Eve, that’s enough. Go inside now,” the manager finally said, putting more steel behind his voice. I looked at him. He seemed simultaneously angry and afraid. It was a funny sight if his anger wasn’t aimed at me.

I opened my mouth to say more, but then the manager grabbed my arm and tugged me back into the club, muttering curses and shaking his head repeatedly.

The nameplate door of his office was the first thing I saw before I heard the manager shout, “You're such a menace, you know that?!”

I entered the office unwillingly, panting heavily. The manager was pacing the length of the office.

I was shocked at how angry he was. He usually wasn’t like this. He usually protected me and the rest of the workers with his life. Even the bouncers he was so kind and friendly to us that I never looked anywhere else for work.

The manager said, breathless, “Your relationship with Charlie aside, you have to understand that you nearly got yourself in trouble... if you haven’t already. Do you know who you were talking to there? That is Antonio Bernoti.”

I paused.

“Who? I don’t even know who he is,” I said by way of response. “All I know is that he has been rude and attacked one of ours. He attacked Charlie!”

“Charlie made a joke, and it wasn’t very well taken by the Boss,” he chuckled shakily. “Maybe you need to understand who the hell Antonio is. He owns half the bars and casinos in the country. He’s a boss who can tell his men to kill the president, and they aren’t going to bat an eye before doing it. And you, you stupid girl, just made yourself known to him.”

I swallowed.

If all these things he was saying were true, then that would mean that the handsome, tall man was a boss of some kind. A mafia Don?

A knock sounded on the door, and we both turned our heads. The manager walked over to the door but not before saying, “Better figure out how you’re going to apologize to him before he does something to hurt you. He could have killed Charlie, but now he’s spared him. Charlie’s going to have to find another job, though. I can’t keep him here if the Boss doesn’t want him here.”

It dawned on me that he was talking about firing Charlie, and I felt outraged as the spineless manager opened the door and saw one of the men from outside. One of that man’s guards?

“He is in the VVIP room now. He wants a performer,” the man was saying to the manager. “Alright. I’ll get one of our best girls to—“

“Not just anyone,” the man said, and I realized he was looking at me. "He wants that girl. Her,” he tilted his head towards me in a gesture.

Dread and anger filled my body. He wanted me to perform for him? After all of that crap he pulled outside?

No. Hell no.