Riya Lesnar
Everything around me became a blur of flashing lights and pounding music, but all I could see was my father's face. The shock. The horror. The disgust spread across his face like poison.
How was he here? How was this possible?
My mind scrambled for answers, for some logical explanation that would make this nightmare make sense. But there was none. Just my father, standing in the middle of a strip club, staring at his daughter who was wearing a mask and dark clothes, looking exactly like what I was trying so hard not to be seeing.
And beside him, Maddison stood with that satisfied smile I knew so well. The same smile she wore when she'd successfully manipulated a situation to her advantage.
"Dad?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.
But he wasn't looking at me like I was his daughter. He was looking at me like I was something filthy he'd found on the bottom of his shoe.
The seconds stretched like hours. Other people in the club were starting to notice the drama unfolding. Some were whispering, others were openly staring. But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think beyond the horrible reality that my worst fear had just come true.
Then my father walked toward me with slow, deliberate steps. Each footfall echoed in my head like thunder. His face was twisted with rage and disappointment, and I knew what was coming before his hand ever left his side.
The slap came fast and hard, the sound of it cutting through the club's noise like a gunshot. My head snapped to the side, and pain exploded across my cheek. The mask shifted, revealing more of my face to anyone who was watching.
"You disgraceful little whore," he spat, his voice low and venomous. "You pathetic excuse for a daughter."
The words hit harder than his hand ever could. I felt tears spring to my eyes, hot and shameful.
"Dad, please, let me explain…"
"Explain?" he laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Explain what? How you've been spreading your legs for money? How you've been disgracing our family name?"
Each word was like a knife twisting deeper. People around us were definitely watching now, some recording with their phones. The humiliation was complete and public.
"I knew there was something wrong with you from the beginning," he continued, his voice getting louder. "I could see it in your eyes when you were just a child. The wickedness. The shame. This is exactly why I never loved you the way I should have. Because somehow, deep down, I knew you would end up exactly like this."
The tears were falling freely now. I couldn't stop them. Hearing my father say he'd never loved me, that he'd always known I would disappoint him, was worse than any physical pain he could have inflicted.
"You are a disgrace to everything our family stands for," he went on. "A stain on our reputation. I should have known when your mum died, right after giving birth to you."
He couldn't even say the word. But his disgust was clear enough.
Through my tears, I saw Maddison approaching. She moved slowly, like she was savoring every moment of my humiliation.
"Oh, Riya," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "I'm so sorry this had to happen this way. I really didn't want your father to find out like this."
I stared at her, wiping tears from my cheeks. Even through my pain, I could see the lie clearly written on her face.
"I was trying to help you," she continued, placing a gentle hand on my arm that made my skin crawl. "I thought if I could talk to you privately, maybe convince you to stop this before the pack elders found out, we could handle this quietly. But I know you'd never listen..."
She shook her head sadly, like she was genuinely disappointed in me.
"I had to tell someone. I was worried about you. I thought maybe your father could help, could talk some sense into you before this got out of hand."
Every word was perfectly calculated. She sounded concerned, caring, like a family friend who was genuinely trying to help. But I knew better. I could see the satisfaction glittering in her eyes, the way she was barely containing her glee at seeing me broken down like this.
"You planned this," I said quietly, my voice hoarse from crying.
"What?" she gasped, placing a hand over her heart. "Riya, how could you say that? I would never…."
"You planned all of this," I said louder, anger starting to burn through the pain. "You wanted him to find me here. You wanted him to see me like this."
"That's not true," she protested. "I was trying to protect you. I thought if we came here together, if your father could see for himself what kind of environment you were working in, maybe…"
"Stop lying!" I shouted, not caring who heard me anymore. "You're enjoying this!"
Maddison's mask slipped for just a moment. I saw the cold satisfaction flash across her face before she quickly covered it with hurt confusion.
"Riya, you're upset. You're not thinking clearly. I understand you're embarrassed, but taking it out on me isn't going to…"
That's when I noticed my boss watching everything unfold with obvious pleasure, grinning like he was watching his favorite TV show. This whole scene was entertainment to him. Is that why he called me here?
The rage that had been building inside me finally exploded.
I turned away from Maddison and took a step closer.
Without warning, I drew back my arm and slapped him as hard as I could across his face. The sound echoed through the immediate area, and his head snapped to the side.
"You bastard!" I screamed. "You set this up! That's why you fucking want me here tonight!"
He touched his cheek where I'd hit him, still smiling despite the red mark spreading across his skin.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said calmly. "But you just assaulted me in front of witnesses. That's not very smart, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that!" I shouted. "You manipulative piece of garbage! You couldn't handle that I was done with this place, so you found a way to drag me back down!"
Before I could say anything else, my father's hand clamped down on my wrist like a vise.
"That's enough," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "We're leaving. Now."
He dragged me away from the bar, past the staring crowd, through the club toward the exit. I stumbled after him, my wrist throbbing from his grip, my face still burning from his slap.
Maddison followed behind us, maintaining her act of concerned worry, but I could feel her satisfaction radiating off her in waves.
The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside, a sharp contrast to the stuffy heat of the club. My father didn't slow down until we reached his car parked across the street.
He opened the passenger door and practically shoved me inside before walking around to the driver's seat.
The silence in the car was suffocating. My father started the engine and pulled away from the club without saying a word. I could feel his anger filling the small space, making it hard to breathe.
"Is this what you planned?" he asked, his voice low and controlled, which somehow made it more terrifying than when he'd been shouting. "Is this how you wanted to ruin my reputation? My standing in the pack?"
I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past. "It was never about you."
"Everything you do reflects on me!" he exploded, his composure finally cracking. "Everything! When people look at our family, they see me through my children. And now, thanks to your disgusting choices, they'll see me as the man who raised a whore!"
The word hit me like another slap. I flinched and turned to look at him.
"I'm not…"
"Yes, you are!" he cut me off. "That's exactly what you are! Taking your clothes off for money, letting strange men look at your body, doing God knows what else for cash. What would you call that?"
I didn't have an answer. Because part of me, the part that had been raised with his judgment, knew he was right. No matter what circumstances had led me there, no matter how desperate I'd been, the facts were simple. I had taken money to dance nearly naked for strangers.
"You have brought shame on our entire family," he continued. "Your sister will be humiliated when this gets out. Your mother's memory will be tainted by association with what you've become."
Bringing up my mother was the cruelest cut of all. I started crying again, harder this time.
"And that pack," he went on. "And the Alpha, what do you think he'll say when he finds out? What do you think his pack will say when they learn their Luna used to be a stripper?"
The Ethan part didn't hit a dime in me because he knew. Of course he did, but did that justify the fact that my dad had just caught me Red-handed?
"You are a disgrace," he continued as we pulled into our driveway. "To me, to your sister."
We sat in the car for a moment after he turned off the engine. The weight of his disappointment pressed down on me like a physical force.
When we finally got out and walked into the house, I heard familiar laughter coming from the living room. High-pitched, delighted laughter that I recognized immediately.
Tara was sitting on the couch with her phone in her hands, giggling at something on the screen. She looked up when we walked in, and her smile got even wider.
"Oh, hi!" she said cheerfully. "How was your evening?"
But there was something in her eyes, something knowing and pleased, that made my stomach drop.
My father noticed her mood, too. "What's so funny?" he asked. "What are you laughing at?"
"Oh, nothing," Tara said, waving her hand dismissively. "Just some videos on social media. You know how these things go viral."
"Show me," I said. I don't know when the words left my lips.
"What?" Tara blinked innocently.
"Show me what you're looking at."
"Riya, it's nothing important…"
"Show me!" I demanded, lunging for her phone.
But she pulled it away, still smiling. "Really, it's just silly internet stuff."
Something in me told me to tell Dad that Tara knew. That she k
new I worked at the strip club.
"She knew," the words fell from my lips before I could stop it. "She knew I used to work in the strip club."