His Virgin Stripper

5-In His Basement

Sienna

I tore my gaze away from him immediately, my fingers tightening around the pole.

Focus.

Focus on the routine.

Not the man sitting upstairs looking like sin wrapped in a tailored suit.

The music pulsed through the room as Roxy spun around the pole beside me effortlessly, completely unaware that my nervous system was currently malfunctioning.

I forced myself to move.

To climb.

To breathe.

But every few seconds, my eyes betrayed me.

They kept drifting back toward that booth.

And every single time, he was already watching me.

Not looking around the room.

Not distracted by the women surrounding him.

Just watching me with those cold, unreadable eyes like he was trying to pull something out of me.

It was unsettling.

Heat crawled beneath my skin as I slid down the pole smoothly before transitioning toward the silk again. The crowd blurred into noise around me, but his presence stayed sharp.

Heavy and impossible to ignore.

I looked away quickly, annoyed with myself.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I didn’t even know this man.

But every time our eyes met, my body reacted before my brain could stop it.

And that was dangerous.

—---

The performance ended, but my body still hummed with adrenaline.

Even backstage, with the music muffled behind thick walls and the bright stage lights no longer burning against my skin, I could still feel the rush crawling beneath my veins.

My chest rose and fell heavily as I grabbed a towel off a nearby chair, dabbing at the thin layer of sweat covering my neck.

“See?” Roxy grinned, already reaching for a bottle of water. “Nobody died.”

I shot her a look before taking the bottle from her hand. “That’s debatable.”

She laughed while I twisted the cap open, taking a long sip.

The cold-eyed man flashed through my mind again.

I frowned into the bottle.

Why the hell did I keep thinking about him?

It wasn't even like he had done anything. He had just sat there the entire performance looking like human intimidation wrapped in a designer suit.

No smile, no reaction.

Just those cold eyes following me every single time I accidentally looked his way.

And somehow, that was worse.

“You're thinking about the booth guy again,” Roxy sang.

I choked on my water.

“I am not.”

“You literally have the exact same face you had on stage every time you looked upstairs.”

“I looked upstairs like twice.”

“Six times.”

My jaw dropped. “You were counting?”

“I notice everything,” she said proudly.

“That’s actually concerning.”

“It’s a gift.”

“It’s psychological damage.”

Roxy ignored me completely and reached for a thick envelope sitting on the vanity beside the mirror.

“Anyway,” she said dramatically, waving it in the air, “your emotional support money has arrived.”

I blinked. “My what?”

She shoved the envelope into my chest.

I opened it casually at first, still distracted.

Then my eyes widened.

“Oh.”

There was a lot of cash inside.

Like… A lot.

I stared at it for another second before looking back up at her.

“For one night?”

Roxy looked offended. “For one shift.”

My mouth opened slightly.

Then closed.

Then opened again.

“People make this much from dancing?”

“People make more than this from dancing,” she corrected. “Especially when rich men start getting emotionally attached to women with daddy issues and good thigh strength.”

I snorted despite myself before looking back down at the money.

The strange thing was, it didn’t even make me feel guilty.

It made me feel… capable. Iindependent.

Like maybe my entire world hadn’t actually ended tonight.

Like maybe Dave leaving destruction behind him didn’t automatically mean I had to stay destroyed too.

The thought settled quietly in my chest.

Roxy must’ve noticed the shift in my expression because her face softened slightly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I looked down at the envelope again before nodding once.

“Yeah,” I admitted quietly. “It does.”

Before she could respond, Madame Lilith appeared beside us seemingly out of nowhere.

I genuinely had no idea how that woman moved in heels without making a sound.

“Vesper.”

I looked up immediately.

Her sharp red lips curved slightly.

“You’re needed downstairs.”

My brows furrowed.

“Downstairs?”

Not upstairs. Not a VIP room.

Downstairs?

Something about that word immediately made my stomach tighten.

Roxy noticed it too because her teasing expression disappeared almost instantly.

Lilith adjusted the sleeve of her black dress calmly. “Basement level.”

Basement.

Okay, somehow that sounded significantly worse.

I glanced at Roxy.

She raised both hands immediately. “Don’t look at me. I’ve never been called down there before.”

That did absolutely nothing to comfort me.

“What’s in the basement?” I asked carefully.

Lilith smiled.

Which somehow felt more unsettling than if she hadn’t smiled at all.

“Follow me.”

That was not an answer. But unfortunately, my survival instincts had apparently clocked out for the night, because I followed her anyway.

The further we walked, the quieter things became.

The loud music upstairs faded into a distant vibration beneath my feet while the lighting grew dimmer with every hallway we passed through.

Black walls, dark marble floors, soft golden lights built into the ceiling.

Everything down here felt colder. Private.

My heels clicked against the floor as nervousness slowly twisted tighter in my stomach.

Who the hell would be asking for me after one shift?

And why did it have to happen in a basement like the beginning of a crime documentary?

Lilith finally stopped in front of a large black door at the end of the hallway.

She turned toward me calmly.

“Go inside.”

I stared at her. “That’s it? You’re not coming with me?”

“No.”

Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

My anxiety was now fully moisturized and thriving.

Lilith opened the door anyway. The room beyond it was completely dark.

I hesitated.

Every horror movie instinct in my body told me this was a terrible idea.

But before I could embarrass myself by backing out, Lilith gently pushed me forward.

The door shut behind me.

And just like that, I was alone.

The darkness swallowed everything.

I could barely even hear myself breathe.

For a few long seconds, nothing happened.

Then—

The lights came on.

I stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the sudden brightness.

And when my eyes adjusted, there he was.

The man from upstairs.

The cold-eyed stranger who had watched me all night like I was the only person in the room.

He sat sprawled lazily against a dark leather chair, one arm resting against the armrest, his expensive black suit somehow making him look even more dangerous instead of civilized.

His gaze locked onto mine instantly.

Heavy and unmoving.

My pulse tripped over itself.

Oh s**t.