LADY OF THE NIGHT

CHAPTER TWO

BEING WATCHED

ANDREA

Trying to leave the house every night is going to put me in a tight corner, because I still live in the main compound, even though I technically have my own apartment at the far end of it. The place is massive, almost like a private estate, and every corner of it is monitored.

The main gates get locked by 10 p.m., and the guards become far more alert around that time and normally that level of security would make anyone feel safe, but tonight it feels more like a prison.

Even though I own other properties scattered across the city, the tradition of my family is that I can't move out of the family compound until I’m married, tt's an old rule that has existed for generations and supposedly it protects the family's reputation.

Personally, it just stresses me out.

I left the main house to escape the main house to have my privacy, I was always lonely or bullied by my cousin, my aunt only adopted son while there so what does it matter

But what can I do?

It is almost time now, and a notification flashes on my phone, my shift has been moved to 11 p.m., which honestly works better for me, less attention, fewer people around the compound.

After work earlier today, I stopped at a boutique to get some outfits I would need for this job, I still don't know how well this whole plan will work, but taking ballet classes as a child at least gave me some flexibility. Enough to attempt some of the moves required.

When I had to send in my audition video, a requirement for every applicant, I was allowed to wear a mask. Still, it took me weeks to perfect the movements I showed in that recording. Spins, bends, controlled balance, things that looked effortless but required painful hours of practice.

My heart was beating like crazy earlier at the shop, I kept praying I wouldn't run into anyone I knew, that would have been the end of everything before it even started cause I couldn't even send my assistant to shop for me. Every step of this operation had to be done personally and completely undercover.

I even paid with my personal credit card instead of any company account to avoid leaving a trail that could easily be traced back to my family's businesses, the bag I carry now is stuffed with everything I bought.

Pole dance tops and shorts, some come in matching two-piece sets, while others are separate pieces in different colors. Neon UV-reactive mesh hoodies, fishnet tights and rave-style polewear costumes, heels in several bright colors, halter tops and glitter or any kinda sparkles I could get my hands on

Anything flashy enough to blend in with the performers working inside the club, I also bought wigs in different shades and styles, just in case.

After leaving the boutique, I had to stop by Secure Shield to meet Aurora, she was the one responsible for designing the mask I would wear tonight.

Aurora takes her work extremely seriously and if she says a mask is necessary, then there is a very good reason for it, the mask she handed me earlier today is handmade and specifically designed for this job. Lightweight, durable, and shaped in a way that changes the structure of my face slightly when worn that no one who knows me would recognize me in it.

At least, that's the hope, I shove the last pieces of clothing into my bag and quietly step outside the apartment.

“Have all the security cameras been disabled?” I ask softly, speaking into the small mic clipped to the inside of my jacket.

There's a brief crackle in my earpiece.

“Yes,” a voice responds. “Take the wall on the left side of the compound, the security barbed wires have been disabled on that section, you should be able to climb over successfully.”

Aurora's voice.

Calm, direct and very much efficient and I do exactly as instructed, moving quickly across the yard toward the far wall. My heart pounds in my chest as I approach it.

The wall is high, easily over ten feet but the vines creeping along the side provide enough grip to climb and I pull myself up carefully, pausing at the top for a moment before dropping down to the other side.

The landing is quiet.

And just like that…

I am finally outside the compound, freedom they say is something you seek out yourself and even if only for a few hours, I glance down the street, trying to figure out what my next move should be in terms of transportation but I don't have to think for long.

A sleek deluxe taxi pulls up directly in front of me, perfect timing.

“That’s your ride for the duration of this mission, soldier,” Aurora says through the earpiece. “Make it count.”

The line clicks off immediately after.

Typical Aurora.

Dry humor delivered like a military briefing, I can't help smiling slightly.

Oh well.

Let the drama begin.

I arrive far sooner than I expected.

The drive from the mansion takes roughly an hour, but the ride is smooth and surprisingly peaceful, it has been so long since I've stepped outside this late at night that I almost forgot what the city looks like after dark.

The streets glow under rows of streetlights, music drifts faintly from passing cars and groups of people laugh outside restaurants and bars, a completely different world from the carefully controlled silence of my family's compound.

“Ma'am, we are here,” the driver says eventually.

The car pulls to a stop at the far end of a large building, parking in a darker area away from the main road and the location avoids most of the visible security cameras.

Aurora definitely scouted this place beforehand.

“Okay. Thank you,” I reply.

I step out of the car and adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder.

“Let's get this party started,” I mutter to myself.

The building in front of me is surrounded by a tall fence, so tall, in fact, that it's impossible to see what is happening inside.

At the gate stand two bodyguards, very huge men and one of them is bald, shorter than the other, and looks older. His arms are thick enough to snap someone in half if he wanted to and the other one is taller, younger, and equally intimidating.

“How may I help you, miss?” the older one asks.

“My name is Olivia Andrew,” I reply smoothly. “My code number is 1002. I'm supposed to resume work today.”

The code had been sent to me earlier, it serves as my entry identification until the company issues me an official employee ID.

“Alright, ma'am,” he says after checking something on a small device.

The gate opens and just like that, I'm in and the moment I step inside, I am immediately struck by how massive the building is, the place is huge.

Lights flash from inside the windows, pulsing rhythmically against the darkness of the night which means only one thing, the party has already started and time to dance to the music.

I walk toward the main structure and quickly notice two separate entrances, one is clearly meant for guests.

The other has a sign above it that reads EMPLOYEES ENTRANCE, I head straight for that one and inside the hallway, I follow the signs until I reach a door labeled FEMALES.

When I step through it, I meet a woman named Selene, she looks like someone who has been working here for years, confident, organized, and completely unfazed by the constant flow of performers moving around the room, she hands me my employee ID and gives me a rundown of everything required of me.

Rules, schedules, security expectations, performance guidelines before she then proceeds to introduce me to the other female workers currently preparing for their shifts.

There are so many names being thrown at me that by the time she reaches the last person, I have already forgotten the first three,not great for a first day

I'll have to do better if I want to maintain my cover and eventually she shows me the changing room and the first thing that surprises me when I walk in is how… safe it feels.

The room is well lit, organized, and filled with laughter and casual conversations, the women inside don't look like they are being forced into anything, if anything, many of them seem to enjoy the work, confidence level is visible and they look so comfortable, like they are in control of their environment.

Which, honestly, is not what I expected and knowing my shift is coming up soon, I quickly change into my outfit and when my turn is finally called, I take a slow breath and step out.

I'm dressed in tight shorts and a skimpy black sleeveless leather top that clings closely to my body and red heels complete the look.

And most importantly

My mask.

The stage lights hit me the moment I step forward, blinding me for a second, I can't make out faces in the crowd all just silhouettes and movement of said silhouettes, shadows shifting beneath the flashing lights.

At first, I simply allow my body to move with the rhythm of the music, slow sways, my hands glide up from my waist to my face, tracing the outline of the mask before drifting lower across my chest, the bass vibrates through the floor beneath my heels.

I let the music take over.

Tonight might not be the right moment to go near the pole so instead, I keep the performance grounded, focusing on fluid movements.

I bend slowly, lowering myself toward the floor, my hips tilt upward, my hands slide from my ankles up along my thighs and toward my waist in one smooth motion.

For a moment I keep my eyes closed, lost in the rhythm, then I open them and realize something strange.

The room has gone quiet, not completely silent, the music is still playing but the crowd itself has quieted, dozens of men are staring at me, their eyes follow every movement I make and the attention sends a sudden rush of adrenaline through me, high on confidence and power.

I let go even more, allowing the performance to flow naturally.

But then—

It happens.

A strange feeling spreads across my skin, goosebumps, sharp and sudden, my body reacts so unexpectedly that I almost slip mid-movement.

Something isn't right but I can't explain it, but it feels like someone is watching me and not the usual watching of the audience.

Something different, focused with intent.

Like a pair of eyes locked onto me specifically, studying every movement, measuring, observing and testing, almost like someone is trying to control me with their gaze alone.

I glance across the room while continuing to dance, left, right, the balconies, the VIP booths but no matter where I look, I can't identify the source.

Still…

The prickling sensation of being watched refuses to disappear and a dangerous thought slips into my mind.

Isn't it too early to lose my cover?

Fuck.

Aurora would kill me.