Connected Dots

Chapter 4: De La Cruz Club

To be honest, I don't know how I found myself standing here.

Maybe desperation had legs.

Maybe it had a voice that kept whispering in your ear that pride didn't pay bills.

Or maybe life simply pushed you into places you never imagined you'd go.

Either way, I was here.

I stood on the sidewalk staring up at the massive black building in front of me.

DE LA CRUZ CLUB

The silver letters gleamed beneath the city lights.

The building looked intimidating.

Dangerous.

The kind of place where powerful men came to spend money, hide secrets, and make deals ordinary people would never hear about.

A chill ran down my spine, for a second, I considered turning around.

This wasn't my world, but neither was poverty.

Neither was watching my mother get sicker every day because we couldn't afford proper treatment .

And neither was hearing my little sister pretend she wasn't hungry so there would be more food for everyone else.

So I took a deep breath and walked inside.

The manager barely looked at my portfolio.

The portfolio I'd spent hours putting together.

The references.

My work history.

Everything.

He didn't care.

Instead, his eyes traveled slowly from my shoes to my face.

"Turn around."

I blinked.

"What?"

"Turn around."

Confused, I obeyed.

A few seconds passed.

"Perfect." He said

I turned back around.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

I frowned.

"You don't want to see my qualifications?"

"No."

"My references?"

"No."

My confusion deepened.

Then his expression hardened.

"Listen carefully."

I straightened immediately.

"Never ask questions."

"What?"

“That was a question “

"Do what you're told."

His eyes narrowed.

"Don't ask questions”

“Don't get involved in anyone's business.”

“Don't make friends. Don't date customers.”

“ Don't start relationships with anyone connected to this club."

He told me with force from his voice.

A nervous laugh escaped me.

"What kind of place is this?"

He didn't smile.

"The kind of place where curiosity gets people hurt."

My stomach tightened.

"What of the boss, the owner of the place?"

His expression instantly became unreadable.

"You won't see him."

"Why?"

"He hardly comes around."

Something told me not to push further.

Then he told me the salary.

My eyes widened.

The amount was more money than I had seen in months.

Suddenly, I wasn't questioning anything anymore.

Maybe I had gotten lucky.

Maybe life was finally throwing me a bone.

Then he dropped another surprise.

"You start tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Wear black."

He looked me over again.

"And dress sexy."

I nearly choked.

"What?"

"You heard me."

I wanted to argue.

I wanted to refuse.

But I needed this job.

Desperately.

So I nodded.

"Okay."

And just like that, I became a waitress at De La Cruz Club.

I had no idea it would change my life forever.

The club was overwhelming.

Music vibrated through the floor, lights flashed across crystal bottles.

Women in designer dresses drifted through the crowd while I saw Men in expensive suits sat in private booths.

Money seemed to flow through the room like water.

At first I felt completely out of place.

But after a few hours I relaxed.

Maybe this wasn't so bad.

Maybe I could survive here.

Then everything changed.

A whisper spread through the club.

"The boss is coming."

Instantly the atmosphere shifted, the employees straightened and Security guards moved into position immediately.

Even customers seemed more careful which was weird.

I frowned.

"What is happening?"

One waitress grabbed my arm.

"Don't stare."

"Why?"

"Just don't."

Naturally that made me even more curious.

Outside, a black luxury SUV pulled up.

The crowd parted.

I stood on my toes trying to see.

The tinted window rolled down slightly.

I caught the outline of a man.

Broad shoulders.

Dark suit.

Power radiating from him.

Then the manager suddenly appeared.

"Table twelve."

I jumped.

"What?"

"Champagne."

"But"

The manger didn't allow me to finish my statement

"Now."

I sighed.

So much for seeing the mysterious boss.

I grabbed the tray and headed across the crowded club.

That was when disaster struck.

Someone slammed into me.

The tray tilted.

The champagne bottle slipped right off my fingers.

Cold liquid exploded everywhere.

All over me.

All over him.

The entire room went silent.

My heart stopped.

Slowly, I looked up.

And immediately wished the ground would swallow me.

The man standing before me looked furious.

Dark eyes with a sharp jaw and expensive suit.

The kind of face women probably dreamed about.

The kind of face that looked dangerous, Very dangerous to be precise.

His gaze traveled down his soaked jacket.

Then back to me.

"Well" he said slowly.

"That's one way to get my attention." He uttered

"I..I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?"

"You just ruined a very expensive suit."

My cheeks burned.

"It was an accident."

His eyebrow rose.

"An accident?" He said

"You bumped into me." I replied him adding a sir at the statement

The words escaped before I could stop them.

His eyes narrowed.

The manager's warning flashed through my head.

Never ask questions, never cause trouble, I swallowed.

Too late.

The stranger stepped closer.

Close enough for me to smell expensive cologne.

Close enough to make my pulse race.

"You have quite a mouth."

I forced myself not to back away.

"You bumped into me."

A slow smile appeared.

It wasn't friendly.

It was the smile of a predator finding something interesting.

"Feisty."

"I prefer honest."

His eyes glittered.

For a moment I thought he might explode.

His jaw tightened.

I immediately grabbed napkins.

"I'll clean it."

The moment I reached toward him, he caught my wrist.

Not painfully.

Just enough to stop me.

My breath caught.

His eyes flickered to my face.

Then to my wrist.

Then back to my eyes.

For a second neither of us moved.

"You're shaking."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm trying not to lose my job."

One corner of his mouth lifted.

"You assume I'd get you fired?" He replied

"Considering the look on your face, I assumed worse."

The man stared at me.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed. The sound surprised me.

"You have a death wish."

"I have rent to pay."

Something shifted in his expression.

Curiosity.

Interest.

Dangerous interest.

"What is your name?"

The question caught me off guard.

"Why sir?"

"Because you just assaulted me with alcohol."

"I did not assault you."

"You threw a bottle at me."

"I did not throw a bottle at you."

"You attacked me." He kept on saying

I stared.

"You bumped into me."

His eyebrow rose.

"There she is."

"There who is?"

"The brave version."

I folded my arms.

"I'm not brave."

"No?"

"No."

"You looked me in the eye and accused me."

"Because you bumped into me."

A grin threatened to appear.

And somehow that irritated me.

"You're enjoying this."

"A little."

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

For some reason I found myself smiling.

Then immediately stopped.

No.

Absolutely not.

His gaze lingered on my face.

Longer than necessary.

"You don't belong here."

The statement surprised me.

"What does that mean?"

"You look at people."

I frowned.

"What?"

"Everyone else looks at money."

His eyes swept across the room.

"You look at people."

The strange observation left me speechless.

Before I could respond, his phone rang.

The amusement vanished instantly. A completely different man appeared.

Cold.

Dangerous.

Untouchable.

He answered.

"Talk."

A few seconds passed.

His jaw clenched.

"I'm coming."

The call ended.

He slipped the phone away.

For a moment it looked like he wanted to say something else.

Instead he stepped around me.

Then paused.

"You still haven't told me your name."

I crossed my arms.

"You haven't told me yours."

A dangerous smile appeared.

"Oh sweetheart."

He leaned closer.

"I don't have to."

Then he walked away.

Leaving me confused.

Annoyed.

And strangely aware of him.