Chapter.2:The Deal
1047 Words
The next morning, Luna awoke with a dull ache behind her eyes and the phantom weight of last night’s heels still clinging to her feet. The memory of dancing at Eclipse hit her in flashes—spotlights, cheers, shadows. She touched her lips, half-expecting to taste smoke and sweat.
But what lingered most wasn’t the stage or the crowd. It was the feeling of being watched.
She shook it off as paranoia.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Rosa:
> Babe! The manager loved you! You’re on the schedule for tonight again. Big tippers coming. Wear something hot 🔥💃
Luna sighed, tossing the phone aside. She swung her legs over the bed and stretched. Across the room, her mother lay asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly. The hospital wanted a deposit by the end of the week.
She had no choice. Whatever it took—she’d do it.
---
That evening, the club was even more crowded than the night before. The music was louder, the lights more intense. Luna walked through the sea of bodies with practiced calm, wearing a fitted black corset and thigh-high boots. Confidence was her costume.
Backstage, Rosa grinned at her. “You’ve already got fans.”
Luna raised a brow. “Seriously?”
Rosa winked. “You caught someone's eye last night. Word is... someone important.”
Before Luna could respond, the club owner entered.
“You.” He pointed to Luna. “VIP Lounge. Now.”
Her stomach dropped. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” His tone brooked no argument. “You’ve been requested.”
Luna glanced at Rosa, whose smirk faded into something more serious.
“Be careful,” Rosa murmured. “You don’t say no to whoever’s in VIP.”
---
The VIP Lounge was nothing like the chaotic dance floor. It was dimly lit, cloaked in velvet and smoke, with men in tailored suits and expensive watches lounging like kings.
At the center of it all sat him.
Lorenzo DeMarco.
He didn’t need to announce himself. His presence was thunder in silence—commanding, cold, and lethal. Black suit. Dark eyes. An unreadable expression. He looked like sin carved into flesh.
Luna froze.
He motioned with a single finger.
“Come.”
Her feet moved before her brain caught up.
She sat across from him, heart thudding painfully in her chest.
“You’re Luna,” he said, voice smooth like poison in silk.
“Yes...” Her voice trembled. “And you are?”
His lips twitched into a faint smile. “Someone who can change your life. Or ruin it.”
She swallowed hard.
He leaned forward. “I know everything. Your name. Your brother Luka. Your mother’s condition. Your debt.”
Luna’s blood ran cold. “How—?”
“I make it my business to know things.” He poured himself a drink, not offering her one. “You danced well last night. Beautiful. Controlled. Desperate.”
He said the last word like a diagnosis.
Luna stiffened. “What do you want?”
Lorenzo’s eyes locked onto hers. “I want you.”
Her breath caught.
“I’ll pay for your mother’s surgery. Every dime. In exchange, you’ll belong to me. For three months.”
Luna recoiled. “You mean—?”
“Yes.” His gaze never wavered. “Be mine. Completely. No dating. No dancing. No running. My property. Until I decide otherwise.”
She stood, outraged. “I’m not for sale.”
“No,” he said calmly, “you’re for rent.”
Her hands trembled.
He stood too—taller, broader, exuding danger. “I’ll give you time to think. But not much.”
Luna turned to leave, her pride screaming.
But his next words froze her mid-step.
“Tick tock, Luna. Your mother doesn’t have long.”
---
Outside the lounge, her hands were shaking.
Rosa caught up to her. “You okay? What happened?”
Luna’s voice cracked. “He—he wants me.”
Rosa blinked. “Like... what, like a job?”
“No. Like a possession.”
Rosa fell silent.
Luna stormed into the dressing room, pulled on her coat, and left the club. The streets outside were wet from a passing rain, neon lights reflecting off the pavement like bleeding stars.
She walked aimlessly, the offer burning in her mind.
Her mother. Her life. Her body.
She was trapped.
---
The next morning, she barely spoke. Luka popped in with a bag of groceries and his usual light-hearted charm, but Luna could barely hold a conversation. Her thoughts kept drifting to those black eyes. That cold voice.
She hated him.
But she hated poverty more.
That evening, Luna stood alone outside Eclipse, heart pounding as she stared at the sleek black car parked near the curb.
The window rolled down.
Antonio sat in the driver’s seat, expression unreadable. “He’s waiting.”
She climbed in, her stomach churning.
Minutes later, she stood again in the VIP lounge. Lorenzo was already pouring a drink, unfazed by her return.
She met his eyes. “Three months. No more.”
He smiled. “Done.”
“And no touching me without consent,” she added quickly.
He walked toward her slowly, like a predator.
“I don’t force,” he said. “I persuade.”
His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’ll come to me willingly. Eventually.”
Luna clenched her fists. “You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re desperate,” he replied. “Which makes us both... interesting.”
He turned away.
“Antonio will handle the paperwork. I’ll send the money to the hospital in the morning.”
Luna nodded stiffly.
“Oh,” he added without looking back, “you’ll move in tomorrow. My house. My rules. Don’t be late.”
---
That night, Luna sat alone in her bedroom, watching her mother sleep beside her. The soft beep of the heart monitor reminded her why she’d made the deal.
She hated herself.
But there was no turning back now.
Outside, a car waited.
Inside, her fate had already begun.
And far across the city, Lorenzo stared out over the skyline from his penthouse, a slow smile spreading across his lips.
The game had begun
- Writer
