Miranda sat on the edge of the narrow bed in the room they had moved her to three days earlier, counting the cash from Lily's envelope for the third time. The bills felt thick and real between her fingers, more money than she had seen in months. She split it carefully, half tucked into the lining of her bra, the rest folded small and hidden under the loose baseboard behind the dresser.
Victor's guards had searched the room twice already, but they hadn't found her spots yet.
The door stayed unlocked now during shift hours, a small win. Victor had grumbled about it but backed off after Lily kept showing up with "tips" and questions. Isolation hadn't stuck; the girls still found ways to cross paths downstairs.
A soft knock came at the open door. Amara poked her head in, holding a makeup bag like an excuse. "Need help with that bruise? It's showing through the powder."
Miranda touched her cheek where the drunk client had slapped her two nights ago. "Yeah, come in."
Amara slipped inside and closed the door most of the way. She sat beside Miranda on the bed and opened the bag, pulling out concealer. "Hold still." Her touch was gentle as she dabbed the cream over the purple mark. "Sofia says Victor's in a bad mood today. Some supplier yelled at him on the phone."
"Good," Miranda muttered. "Let him stay mad."
Amara smiled a little. "You still hiding that money okay?"
"Safe so far." Miranda glanced at the door.
"Lily came by again last night. Left another envelope. Said thank you again, and asked if I needed anything."
Amara's eyes widened. "She still pushing?"
"Yeah. Keeps saying she'll get me out." Miranda shook her head. "I told her not to come back. Too risky for her."
"But she listens bad," Amara said, finishing the makeup. "Rich girls like that think doors open for them."
They both stood when footsteps echoed in the hall. Sofia appeared, leaning against the frame with a cigarette already lit.
"Break's over in ten. Victor wants us on the floor early, big group coming."
Miranda grabbed her heels from under the bed. "Same tables?"
"You and me together," Sofia said. "Amara on stage rotation. He split us less now. He thinks we're behaved."
The three of them walked down together, heels clicking on the stairs. The club smelled like fresh polish and upcoming money Friday night crowd building. Victor stood near the bar, his arms crossed, watching the door like he expected trouble.
He spotted Miranda and crooked a finger. She walked over, keeping her face neutral.
"You're on VIP section tonight," he said, voice rough. "No fights. And don't pull that hero shit. Smile, pour drinks, dance when asked. Screw up, and your brother hears about it."
Miranda met his stare. "I know the rules."
He leaned in closer, breath sour. "Don't get smart. That Whitmore girl stirring things makes me nervous. You talk to her again, tell her back off."
"I already did."
He grunted and waved her away. "Go work."
The VIP section filled fast, groups of men in expensive suits, laughing loud, ordering bottles that cost more than her old monthly rent. Miranda moved between tables with Sofia, pouring champagne, sitting close when invited. One man with heavy gold watch and thick accent, pulled her onto his lap right away.
"You new?" he asked, hand already on her thigh.
"Been here a bit," she said, forcing a laugh. She shifted her weight, grinding slow like expected. His grip tightened, fingers digging in. Heat rose in her body from the friction, annoying and automatic.
She leaned in, lips near his ear. "Buy another bottle, and I'll stay longer."
He laughed and signaled the server. Tips slid into her hand, big ones.
Sofia caught her eye from the next table
and nodded approval. Amara passed on her way to stage, brushing Miranda's arm quick, a silent check-in.
Hours passed. Dances in semi-private booths, kisses on necks for extra cash, hands wandering but stopped at her lines. Body tired but mind sharp, counting every bill.
Near midnight, Lily appeared at the edge of the section, escorted by a guard. She wore a simple dress tonight, hair down, looking younger than before. Her eyes found Miranda right away.
Miranda excused herself from a table and walked over casual. "You shouldn't keep coming."
"I had to," Lily said quiet. "Are you okay? Your face…"
"Makeup hides it." Miranda glanced around. Victor was across the room, talking to someone. "Go home, Lily. It's dangerous."
Lily shook her head. "I feel awful. Those guys that night, they're banned now. Because of you." She reached into her purse and pressed another envelope into Miranda's hand. "Please take it."
Miranda tucked it away fast. "Thank you. But stop. Victor's watching."
"I don't care." Lily's voice cracked a little.
"You saved me. I can't just leave you here."
Guards started walking towards them.
Miranda stepped back. "Go. Now."
Lily turned and left quick, guard following.
Victor didn't notice, he was busy with his conversation.
Later, upstairs in the shared dressing room between shifts, Miranda sat with Sofia and Amara on the couch. They shared a bottle of water, feet aching.
Sofia lit a cigarette. "That girl again?"
"Yeah." Miranda pulled out the new envelope, more cash. "She's stubborn."
Amara leaned closer. "Maybe good stubborn. Her family has power."
"Or gets her hurt," Sofia said. "Victor hates attention."
Miranda split the money three ways. "Hide your shares good."
They nodded, tucking bills away.
Back on the floor for the last push, Miranda worked a corner booth with a quiet client, he was older, polite, big tipper. His hands stayed respectful, conversation light. She relaxed a little, letting the music take over during a dance.
But across the room, Victor argued with a new arrival, tall man in a dark suit, face half-hidden. Voices rose. Victor pointed toward the VIP section, then straight at Miranda.
The tall man turned fully. Sharp features, cold eyes scanning the crowd.
Miranda's breath caught. Something about him felt different dangerous in a cleaner way.
Victor stormed over to her booth minutes later, face red. "Office. Now."
She followed, her heart pounding. Inside his office, he slammed the door.
"That was a messenger from Charles Whitmore," he snarled. "Lily's brother. He wants to know about the girl who helped his sister."
Miranda kept her face blank. "So?"
"So you stay away from anything Whitmore." He jabbed a finger at her chest. "He starts digging, everybody loses.
You tell anyone he asked, your family pays first."
"I haven't talked to him."
"Good." Victor opened the door. "Back to work. And tomorrow, double shifts."
She walked out, head high. Down the hall, Sofia waited by the dressing room.
"What happened?" Sofia asked low.
"Charles Whitmore sent someone."
Sofia's eyes widened. "Lily finally told him?"
"Guess so."
Amara joined them, whispering, "Guards say the messenger left angry. Said he'd be back."
Miranda looked toward the main floor, where the crowd still partied loud.
A new shadow moved near the bar, a different man this time, watching her openly.
Tall, dark hair, suit perfect.
Waiting.