Married To Moretti

Maya’s POV The music started playing. Slow… Dark… Hypnotic. The kind that sank deep into your skin and made it impossible to stand still. Ride or Die, Pt. 2. by Sevdalisa, Villano Antillano, Tokischa. The bass rolled through the club as colored lights flashed across the room. Smoke flowed through the air, mixing with laughter, alcohol, and perfume. Men sat around small tables, some old, some young. Smokers rested back in their chairs, watching the stage with lazy eyes. A group of friends laughed loudly at a joke near the bar. In another corner, a couple were already making out, too drunk to care who was watching. Money was already flying. And then… there was me. Maya Smith. But here, I’m known as Laurel Stuart the red-haired. Most of the men here were familiar with Laurel and came back just to watch her. Laurel was sexy and composed, with her red-hair and heavy makeup. She knew her worth, unlike Maya. I switched my demeanor, faking my interest as Laurel stepped onto the stage along with the girls, letting the music guide my body. My hips swayed slowly with the rhythm as cheers rose from the crowd. The other girls joined me, appealing to the audience as they moved beneath the lights. Our revealing outfits, barely more than sexy panties and heels, were enough to draw the attention of men who were more than willing to spend their money. Bills fluttered through the air as whistles filled the room. “Laurel!” Some men even called out her name. But while she danced, her mind drifted somewhere else. At eighteen, I worked part-time while still in school, helping my father after my mother died. My little sister, Alessia, depended on me, and I’d do anything to give her a life better than ours. Even after graduation, money was never enough. I had to push harder, take every opportunity to lift us out of struggle, to make myself independent. It was Sofia Carter, my best friend, who introduced me to the club. I still remembered how terrified I was that night. A year later, dancing felt as natural as breathing. Even if I have to inhale so much just to breathe naturally. I moved across the stage with effortless grace, every step earning cheers and more money thrown at my feet. Some nights were public on stage, some nights… private. Just dancing and luring. My eyes landed on a familiar face in the crowd. Damon Cross. My boyfriend. He stood near the front like he sometimes did when he isn’t out with his friends, watching me dance. One time I asked him if he didn’t get tired of standing there for hours. He only smiled and said, “Never.” And it’s not that I don’t like it. It just… feels strange sometimes. The music slowed as the song reached its end, the final notes fading into the loud cheers of the crowd. The coloured lights flashed across the stage as I spun once more before stopping. With a playful smile, I blew a kiss to the audience. The men below the stage whistled and shouted, some throwing the last of their bills into the air, just at my feet. The other girls followed, waving and teasing the crowd before we finally stepped off the stage. The waitresses were the ones to pick our money. Each lady had their spot on the stage and we were usually eight. So, according to the spot it was thrown, we’d get the money later. It was different from the pay we get from the manager. Backstage, I grabbed the plastic cup Sofia had in her hand. “You were fire out there, Clara,” I said, nudging her shoulder. Sofia aka Clara Peña on stage wore her usual blue wig and bold makeup, just like mine. It was her way of leaving the real world behind for a few hours. “Oh, please,” Sofia rolled her eyes, smirking. “Let’s talk about you. The shining star of the night.” She leaned in close, cupping my cheeks with a touch that lingered a beat too long before letting go. I took a sip from her cup and immediately frowned. “What’s this? I thought you were done with alcohol after the last disaster.” Sofia groaned, rolling her eyes. “Not this lecture again.” “Not this again?” I arched an eyebrow. “You climbed onto the DJ’s table, started belting like it was Coachella.” “And don’t forget,” I added, trying not to laugh, “you almost fought the club manager because he told you to get down.” She wagged a finger at me. “First of all, he was being rude.” I folded my arms, grinning. “And what about the three random clients you tried hugging, calling one your ‘long-lost cousin.’” She pushed me gently, laughing. “Hey, it was a warm night!” I smirked. “You almost lost your job.” “But you saved my ass.” Her hand brushed mine for just a second as we stepped toward the bathroom to change outfits. That accidental touch sent a shiver up my spine. I quickly shook it off. “Honestly,” I whispered, nudging her shoulder again, “how are you always this reckless?” She grinned, “someone’s gotta keep you entertained.” We finished changing into our street clothes, zipping up jackets over our skimpy outfits. “You always make me feel like a grandmother,” Sofia teased, grabbing my bag. “Seriously, Maya, you check every corner like we’re in a spy movie.” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Someone has to make sure we don’t get tackled by drunk guys or… worse.” “Come on, Clara,” I said, nudging her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before someone notices we’re slacking.” We slipped through the side door of the club, the night air hitting us like a splash of cold water. “You feeling that?” “Yeah,” I said softly. We rounded the corner, the glow from the streetlamps catching the tops of our jackets. And then I saw him. Damon. Resting against his motorcycle, leather jacket tight across broad shoulders, one boot propped up, helmet dangling from his hand. His gaze locked on us. I swallowed, adjusting my jacket nervously. “Well,” Sofia whispered, “looks like someone’s been waiting. Go on. I’ll take my leave.” Damon nodded at her, but she ignored it. She never truly liked him, and he didn’t like her. She thought he wasn’t right for me, and he probably felt she was spoiling me. I hugged her, and then she pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Bye. Catch up later,” she said, pulling back with that mischievous glint in her eyes. I let her go, watching her disappear into the night as she boarded a cab, and then turned to face Damon, my heart thumping like the bass from the club behind us. “Hey…” I started. He drew me closer and kissed me right there, his tongue trying to take over mine, like he was hungry and then he pulled back. “I missed you so much. Get on.” He said, his voice low but laced with desire.