I open my apartment door to see my mom, who is supposed to be in the hospital, standing as if waiting for me.
"Mom, what's wrong?" I ask, closing the door behind me.
"It's not my fault, I promise," my mom says, stepping back.
"What's not your fault? Mom, stop scaring me. Why are you here?"
"I need that money."
"Yes, you do, for your medical—wait… My mom's not supposed to be standing.
The doctor said if she doesn't get surgery before the end of this month, I'll lose her. What's going on? Mom…"
"I'm sorry, baby. Just hand over the money."
"What do you need the money for? What could be so important that you would go this far?"
"Just give me the money, Nina. You got it for me, remember?"
"I can't believe…" My words catch in my throat as Stella steps out from the kitchen.
"Just give her the money, and everything will be over," Stella says, holding a kitchen knife.
"I told you to stay in the kitchen," Mom snaps at Stella.
"What the fuck is going on here?" I ask, even though I can clearly see it. I just need someone to say it.
"Well," Stella says, smirking, "your mom is in debt—from gambling and hard drugs.
"There was no way of paying it back, so I planned this whole thing. Ain't I a genius?
"But you're dumb though. Didn't you find it weird that your mom, who's never there for you, suddenly gets a terminal disease and then, the next week, our coffee gets switched?... Like we weren't drinking the same coffee." She laughs, twirling the knife between her fingers.
"Now, pass the money, or your so-called mom dies," Stella says, pressing the knife to Mom's neck, drawing out a thin line of blood.
I could walk away. The betrayal and ache should make me hate her. But somehow, I still love her.
I throw the bag of money to them, giving up. Stella releases Mom, ordering her to check the money, and she bends down to do so.
I sit on the floor, my mind spinning after they leave. Where did everything go wrong? Why does life decide to treat me this way?
Looking ahead under a chair, I spot a three-stack of dollar bills. Mom must have hidden them there when Stella told her to check the money.
I start laughing. I laugh as tears roll down my face, realizing I am utterly alone in this damn world.
The money is meant for her anyway. I keep repeating it in my head until sleep consumes me.
>>>
I quickly change into my black lingerie, but this time, I make sure to wear a pantyhose.
If Matteo wants me to strip, he won't tell me to remove my hose now or will he?
Bella enters the changing room, handing me a key. "You'll be serving drinks today, but in another section of the club. These are the passkeys."
I didn't know there were sections in this club.
I use the passkeys to open a red door. The setting on this side of the club is black with touches of white and gold.
The rooms here are made of glass, each containing a bed and chair. Male Doms and male subs fill the rooms, engaging in either foreplay or hardcore sex.
In the first glass room, a Dom presses two fingers into the sub's mouth. "Suck." When the fingers are wet, he pulls them out and pushes them into the sub's ass, making him groan. The Dom moves his fingers in and out, using his other hand to stroke his cock.
The second glass room contains a sub bent over as the Dom slams into him, fast and hard, gripping his hips so he can't move.
The sounds of moans and groans fill the air. My body reacts before I can stop it—I start to feel hot and bothered.
I move through the crowd of men waiting to dominate or submit, serving drinks.
The bartender places a pink drink on my tray.
"Take it to the private room with the black door."
I enter the private room, almost dropping the tray.
Dante is inside. As a Dom. He has a sub guy pinned against the glass-room no different from the others. A couch sits in front of the glass, like it's a show meant to be watched.
I don't know why I do it, but I sit on the couch and watch Dante dominate his sub.
I watch the sub call Dante "Daddy" and Dante loses his cool. He pins the sub against the glass, gripping and squeezing his ass.
Dante presses his knee between the sub's legs holding him in place. The sub moans, grinding against Dante's knee, desperate for friction.
Dante palms the sub's cock, reducing him to a gasping, moaning mess.
Dante dominating a sub is turning me on. It's making me lick.
Dante carries the sub to the bed, spreading his legs.
I feel my legs spreading.
His hand flicks over the tip of the sub's cock.
My hand moves down. I shift my panties aside, tearing my hose to give myself access to my clit.
I brush my fingers over my now-aroused clit. My cheeks flush as I arch, my fingers gathering my wetness, spreading it across my aching clit.
I look at the sub and imagine Dante touching me instead. Moaning softly, I sink two fingers inside my hole.
Right now, I want Dante to touch me and make me cum.
My nipples press against the lace of my lingerie, the friction adding to my pleasure.
I circle my clit with my wet fingers. I pinch it, and another moan escapes my lips.
This minute, I don't care who sees me or who walks through that black door to find me touching myself.
My chest rises and falls rapidly as I trail my fingers deeper inside, adding another finger, stretching myself.
I squeeze my eyes shut, curling my fingers, searching for that sweet spot. I cover my mouth to stifle the loud gasp when I find it.
curl my fingers again, my hips bucking up, desperate for more friction as my clit grinds against my palm.
"Yes… oh God." My voice trembles, my breath hitching.