Camilla's POV

I couldn't believe it. After two years of dancing in the open floor downstairs, I was being moved to the VIP suite.

It felt like a blessing and a disaster at the same time. On the open floor, nobody was allowed to touch you. You were the club's property.

But in the VIP suite, you were responsible for your client's pleasure. Whether carnal or another kind of pleasure.

“You have twenty minutes to prepare. Twenty minutes, or I'm kicking you out for good." The assistant club manager bit out at me before slamming the door of the costume suite shut.

I let out a tired sigh. The other ladies eyed me with envy as I rose from my chair to start getting ready for the inevitable.

Tatiana, one of the girls who danced in the VIP suite, had been involved in a fatal road accident that affected her spine. And I'd just been picked to take her place. Not temporarily. Permanently.

“It's not even like she is that great. Plus, she's thick. I wonder if tonight's client likes stretch marks, because there'll be plenty of them for him tonight." I heard one of the girls say to the girl whose hair she was braiding.

She hadn't even bothered to lower her voice, but I had heard worse. And overtime, I'd grown used to their crude and snide remarks.

They didn't like me because Bossman Mike had hired me despite my weight.

As I got ready for what would be the biggest night of my life, I thought about everything that could go wrong. Everything that would go wrong.

What if tonight's client wanted sex? What if he was a violent person who manhandled women and never took no for an answer? What if he was into BDSM?

What if I found myself in a position where I would have to resort to using the creature inside me?

I was not like other humans, though I liked to imagine that I was still a normal human being.

I had never bitten anyone. I had never shown anyone my vampire teeth to anyone except my mirror in the bathroom.

And my parents a few days after I had turned, before they threw me outside their home and disowned me.

All that was in the past now, but what if I slipped? I would lose my job. I couldn't let that happen. No matter how bad tonight's situation turned out.

I quickly donned the attire for the VIP suite, a transparent net fitting that clung to my curves like a second skin.

Next, I wore a leather cropped top over the fitting.

I looked exactly like what I had signed for. I couldn't judge myself for trying to survive the only way I knew how to.

The door swung open again and some of the girls swore under their breath.

The assistant manager shot me an angry glare, his nostrils flaring. His face was red with anger.

“Have you found another job? Because you're acting like it." He snapped.

I muttered a string of halfhearted apologies and began to make my way out of the costume suite.

Every step I took to the elevator was uncertain, and a sudden wave of anxiety came over me.

Could I handle dancing in front of one potbellied pervert? I wasn't sure.

A hand grabbed my elbow and I gasped in surprise.

It was the assistant manager.

“No matter what happens in there, do not fight it. VIP clients pay a very huge amount of money for our special services.” He warned me sternly, his bushy brows nearly touching each other.

I nodded, while swallowing a lump in my throat. I didn't need him to explain what the special services included.

“I mean it, Camilla. If you ruin things up there, I'll make you pay, even if it's the last thing I do. I can't lose my job because of you, so you better think twice before kicking anyone in the groin tonight.” His last words were a pointer to one of the times I had kicked a man with wandering hands in the groin. The club manager let it slide because nobody was actually supposed to touch me.

I had no doubts I would suffer for it greatly if I repeated my signature move tonight.

“Got it." I told the assistant manager.

He watched me for a few seconds as if searching for chances of that happening on my face before letting me go.

“Our client tonight is a very special one. A very very special one, and if things go well, we'll be having more clients like him, which means more money for us." He even smiled.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. More money for you and Bossman Mike, you mean, I said in my head.

“Screw it up, and you'll regret it. Every day of your life." The smile on his face withered as quickly as it came. He squeezed my arm until I winced, though I tried to hide the reaction.

I hated to appear weak before this weasel.

I snatched my hand away from his tight grip.

“Got it." I said again, firmly this time.

I hastened to the elevator, eager to get away from him.

I didn't even have the time to prepare myself, because the elevator ground to a halt a few seconds after and I was stepping out already.

I struggled to put my worries to rest as I headed for the VIP suite.

I tried to steady my heavy breathing by reassuring myself that I was heading to a private dance floor and not the guillotine.

But it wasn't working. So I ended up stumbling into the suite instead of walking into it with grace and poise because I had expected it to be locked when I pushed my weight against the door.

I was greeted with darkness, but I could still make out a few things. Like the platform on which I would dance, and the dancing pole.

My hands began to shake. Was this the part where the client would come at me suddenly and then rape me?

God, I hoped not. I muttered a silent prayer as I stood there like an idiot, hoping for something to happen.

“Close the door." A deep baritone commanded.

All the hairs on my skin rose on end. My body was reacting strangely to the voice, and I didn't like it.

It felt like my body knew him, and I was obeying his rude order to close the door without even understanding why.

I remained there for a few seconds before finally summoning the courage to find the switch.

I turned the lights on, but the lights weren't like the ones on the other floors.

This one was red and blue, cozy, soft, full of dark promises. But despite the lights, I couldn't see him.

But I could sense his dark aura, his power, his very being. There was something regal and royal about his presence.

And there was something else, a tug pulling me closer.

Like he was the fitting piece that was supposed to close over the carved out, missing space in my soul

I started making my way to the stage. The platform we used in the club was automatically set in a way that once I stepped on the first stair, a song would come on.

And the moment my right foot landed on the first stair, Chris Brown's Under the influence came on.

Come on! It had to be that one? My moves had to be provocative and highly suggestive now, and that would complicate things for me.

I wouldn't mind dancing to Beyonce's Spirit right now.

I could feel his gaze on me, and without even seeing any part of him, I knew they were full of curiosity. Or maybe I was just getting ahead of myself again.

The assistant manager had said he was a very very special client. I wondered who he was.

The lights focused on me now, dim, sensual.

I slid my fingers down my hips and let them trail over my thighs, and that gave me all the confidence I needed.

I had to keep this going to give a good impression. I danced. I channeled all my rage and love into my moves, swinging my hips and hugging the pole.

I felt his aura change.

I danced until the song ended.

Only then did I hear a switch come on, and I gasped when I saw who I had danced for tonight.

It was no potbellied pervert.

It was Carlos Rain, CEO of Rain Empire.

I was staring at the older version of the boy who turned me into a vampire. And the new Lord of the New York Vampire Court.