Serena’s POV

I had one leg wrapped high around the pole, the cool chrome biting into my inner thigh as I leaned back,my hair sweeping the stage, with my chest thrust toward the ceiling.

I do the slow grind.

The deliberate roll. Every move was practiced. It felt easy until it stopped feeling like anything at all. Men shouted. Bills flying around the air. Phones flashed. I didn’t look at faces anymore. Then suddenly a cold weight settled between my shoulder blades. I spun–once, ...