Milena's POV
By the time I finished dinner and all the chores Thomas dumped on me, my entire body already ached. But that didn't matter night was coming, and night meant the club.
Just when I was about to freshen up, Lina walked into the kitchen holding a small cup. That same cup.
The same drink she had been giving me every evening since I turned eighteen.
"Here," she said, with that practiced smile that never quite reached her eyes. "You need energy for the night."
Energy.
That's what she always called it.
I stared at the liquid for a second. Bitter, sour, with a strange herbal smell. It always made my head light and my body numb just enough to keep dancing longer, moving faster, feeling less.
Feeling nothing.
"Drink it, Milena," she said, her tone sharpening slightly.
So, like always, I obeyed.
The familiar dizziness crept in as the drug settled in my system. My limbs grew lighter, my thoughts blurred at the edges, and the exhaustion inside me softened into something distant.
"Go and get dressed," Lina reminded me. "The customers love you on the pole. Don't be late."
Love me.
Right.
No one loved me. They loved the body dancing, not the girl trapped inside it.
I changed into the outfit Lina picked short, tight, revealing. My shame died a long time ago. Or maybe it was buried under everything the drug muted.
When I reached the club with the rest of the staff, the music hit me like a punch. Loud. Wild. Chaotic. People pressed together, dancing, drinking, losing themselves. I wished I could lose myself too.
Once I stepped onto the stage and grabbed the pole, the shift in the crowd was immediate. Eyes turned. Money flashed. Phones came out.
I began moving, letting the music take over. Letting the drug guide my body the way Lina wanted.
Then… I felt it.
That scent.
That same intoxicating scent from the man who saved me the night before.
My heart stumbled.
No, no, no. He couldn't be here. Not in this place. Not seeing me like this.
I kept dancing, but panic clawed at my chest. The lights, the noise, the crowd everything started swimming together.
And then I saw him.
Standing there in the crowd, eyes locked on me with a mixture of anger and something deeper… something terrifying.
My breath hitched.
Before I could react, a strong hand wrapped around my wrist. I stumbled off the pole as he pulled me away from the stage and out of the room, his grip firm but not painful.
"What is wrong with you?" he growled once we were in a quiet hallway.
I yanked my hand back. "Leave me alone!"
"Why were you up there? Why were you dancing like that?" His voice was rough, angry, demanding answers I didn't have the energy to give.
I looked away. The drug made my head spin harder now. His scent overwhelmed me. His presence burned through me.
Then he saw them.
The bruises.
"Who did this to you?" he asked, voice dropping to something dark and dangerous.
"I… fell," I whispered. It was the easiest lie. The one I'd practiced for years.
"You looked me in the face and lied," he snapped. "The audacity"
His shouting made my chest tighten. My vision blurred. Tears spilled before I could stop them. I hated crying in front of anyone, especially him.
The moment he saw my tears, something in him shattered. His anger vanished instantly. He turned away abruptly, running a hand through his hair like he didn't trust himself to stay.
Without another word, he walked out of the club leaving me trembling, drugged, and confused.
And I stood there wondering…
Why did he care?
Who even was he?
And why did his presence feel like it was shaking my entire world apart?