Hera POV

The call ends, and my phone pings with a location message.

I put the glass down hard on the bar, the loud clicking sound lost in the loud music of the club. The air smells of sweat and cheap perfume, people dancing under bright lights. It's a friday evening and those days spell recklessness.

I used to love them at some point when I would wear a mask to conceal my identity and take position in my favourite pole.

Can you imagine it? Me,a plus size in those ...