Mummy where's daddy

Chapter 1 Matilda The dim light of the club settled on my skin as a soft, seductive smile curved my lips. My eyes scanned the crowd in a slow and calculated manner. Goodness, who would've thought I'd be able to capture thousands of souls with my stripping show? But here I am, surrounded by them. “Red Puppy!” they screamed out my nickname in unison, and I couldn't stop the heat that crept up my face. The club throbbed with noise, the heavy bass vibrating in my chest. I wasn’t surprised that everyone here knew my nickname. I’d been working at this place for so long, and I was the only one Max, my boss, could truly rely on. I was his best girl. The star performer. However, I might as well be chained to this club forever. I mean, who willingly lets go of the one employee putting food on their table? Exactly, no one. And truth be told, I wasn’t ready to leave either. A huge amount of money just for an hour of dancing? Sometimes, it made me question whether I could ever walk away. Hot, piercing gazes roamed my exposed skin, lingering on my breasts, barely covered by a red net crop top. But who cares? It was all part of the deal I signed years ago. With a soft sigh, I wrapped my hand around the pole, pressing my body against it as loud gasps filled the air—gasps of surprise and amusement. Yes. I needed to impress them. I needed to remind them of what I had. I bounced my ass against the pole when a man’s voice suddenly cut through the music. “She’s the best! I told you, her dance always drives me nuts!” My gaze landed on a bald man in the crowd, and disgust instantly filled my eyes. He had his d**k in his hand, God, if I was right, it wasn’t even four inches, and he was stroking it right there. I dealt with these kinds of disgusting men every day. I hated it, of course I did, but hate didn’t pay the bills. Money did. And as long as it put food on my son’s plate, I could swallow my pride and dance like I loved it. Through the flashing lights and noise, I noticed a stranger watching me from across the VIP room. His angelic blue eyes gleamed at me, burning through me, lingering on every inch like he owned it, and he showed no intention of looking away. I swallowed hard. He was sexy, with a sculpted face carved to perfection. His hand lifted to his lips, the tip of his fingers grazing them slowly and intensely. Our eyes met, and he darkened with something I couldn’t quite name. Fear sizzled through my heart. My body quivered slightly, but I acted as if it didn’t affect me. My eyes traveled down his body. He was dressed neatly in a black Armani suit. A chill danced across my spine. I couldn’t tell if it was fear or attraction, maybe both. But one thing was clear: he wasn’t just rich. He was dangerous. The kind of man who didn’t ask for things. He took them. I looked away instantly, pushing down the nervous feeling tightening in my chest, making it hard to breathe. After hours of nonstop dancing, I finally slid down from the pole, my legs touching the ground slowly as I struggled to stand. My entire body trembled and pain struck every part of me, but I stayed upright. A slow, fake smile appeared on my lips, the one that was covered by a red veil. I was certain no one would notice. Then I walked off the stage, heading straight to my dressing room. By now, I knew thousands of dollars would be waiting to be counted. The noise faded as I headed down the hall, but to my surprise, my boss was waiting for me in the middle of the dark passage. His hands were crossed behind his back as he paced to and fro, beads of sweat decorating his face. "What's wrong, Max?" I asked. He jerked back in shock, his green pupils lighting up when he saw me. He managed to flash an assuring smile. “Red Puppy,” he called, soft and low. I gritted my teeth, pressing them against my lower lip. “Matilda, for you. It annoys me when you call me that.” “Oh, I’m sorry, Matilda,” he laughed, leaning his back against the hard wall. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in my personal dressing room counting the money? It’s 11 p.m. already. I’m late, my chil—” His voice cut me off. “You got an offer. One of the VIPs wants a private show,” he announced, calm and unbothered. My heart raced, pounding wildly at the thought of dancing in front of any VIP member. Was it the one staring at me while I was dancing? s**t… “What?! You know I don’t do private stripping, Max!” I muttered, nearly yelling. He flinched. “I told him Sarah does, but he insisted. He said he wanted only you,” Max said, voice low and husky. Sarah was another dancer at the club. She handled the private shows for the VIPs. God knows what this man wanted from me. Did I grab his attention with my dance? Did I? A thousand unanswered questions bloomed in my mind as I ran a hand through my hair. “I reject the offer. It’s late already. My son must be waiting for me, you know this, Max.” I turned to leave, but his next words froze me in place. “He gave me five hundred thousand dollars.” The amount echoed in my head. My jaw dropped in disbelief. I couldn’t close it back. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. I knew it, he was rich. Not just from the expensive suit, the blond haircut… “But—” “No more buts, Red,” his voice rose, frustration thick in it. “Come red, we both need this” “Forty percent cut,” he added. I rolled my eyes, then sighed. “Whatever. Alright.” I fixed the red veil perfectly over my face then matched toward the room. Minutes later, I stood in front of the stranger, the one who’d been staring at me earlier. But something was different. His eyes weren’t on me this time. He was glued to his phone. The atmosphere grew tenser. I parted my lips to speak, but his hoarse voice cut me off, plain and emotionless. “Did I request a bodyguard?” he asked, brows furrowed. A chill ran down my spine. His voice was deep and cold. “Get to work. I have no more time to spare,” he groaned, his tongue slipping out to run across the golden ring on his lips. I nodded sharply and stepped toward the pole. There was a brief silence between us, but I could feel his gaze following every step I took. I gripped the pole, took a deep breath, and began. I used all the deadly and impressive moves, the ones that always made the crowd scream. But here I was, dancing for a stranger who looked completely unimpressed. His expression was unreadable. But one thing was certain, his eyes were hard as stone. "Hm, Is this all you can do?" he hummed softly. “Matilda.” My name rolled off his tongue, and my whole body paused. A cold realization hit me like a slap, making me flipped backward, eyes wide with pure shock. “I thought you’d find a real job after your sudden disappearance, Matilda,” he said, teeth clenched, voice almost mocking. I narrowed my eyes on him. “But all you could do is this?” He questioned, eyeing me from head to toes. It was him. My son’s father. My ex-boyfriend. The man I left alone to save my life.