Chapter 4

Bianca

By the time I got back to the changing room, my hands were still shaking. I locked the door behind me and dumped my bag on the counter, staring at myself in the mirror. My makeup was smudged at the corners of my eyes. My lips were swollen like I had been biting them too hard.

I took a deep breath and started peeling off the costume, replacing it with my regular clothes. Jeans, a plain black t-shirt, my old sneakers. The transformation from Scarlett back to Bianca should have felt like relief, but tonight it felt wrong. Like I had left something of myself in that VIP room that I couldn't get back.

I sat down on the bench and pulled out all the money from my bag. My fingers moved mechanically, counting each bill twice to make sure I wasn't imagining things. One hundred, two hundred, five hundred, a thousand. The numbers climbed higher and higher until I reached the final count.

Thirteen thousand dollars.

I stared at the neat stacks in front of me, my heart pounding. He had given me an extra thousand on top of everything else. Why? Was it guilt? A tip for breaking my own rules? Or was it something else, like he enjoyed the session?

It didn't matter, what mattered was that I had enough. More than enough, ten thousand for Emma's surgery deposit, and some left over to keep Fred happy.

I separated the bills carefully, ten thousand went into one pile, three thousand into another. My hands hesitated over the ten thousand, Fred would expect to see all of it.

The cameras in the general rooms caught everything, but the VIP area was different, no cameras, no witnesses, just me and that stranger and whatever had happened between us.

Fred would never know.

The thought made my stomach twist with guilt and excitement. I had never stolen from the club before. Never even thought about it, but this was different, this is for Emma. And it’s my tip in the first place

I stuffed the ten thousand into my jacket pocket, zipping it carefully. The remaining three thousand went back into my bag. I stood up, checked my reflection one more time, and walked out of the changing room with my head held high.

The hallway back to Fred's office felt longer than usual. What if he knew? What if the Iceman said something?

No. The stranger didn't seem like the type to talk to anyone about anything, especially not Fred.

I knocked on Fred's office door twice. His voice barked from inside. "Come in."

The office was exactly as disgusting as always. Stale cigarette smoke hung in the air, mixing with the smell of cheap cologne and something vaguely resembling fast food. Fred sat behind his desk, his belly pressing against the edge, a half-eaten burger in one hand.

"Well?" He looked up at me with greedy eyes. "How much did the Ice King give you?"

I reached into my bag and pulled out the three thousand, placing it on his desk in neat stacks. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Three grand?" He whistled low, reaching for the money and counting it quickly with practiced fingers. "Not bad, sweetheart. Not bad at all."

My heart hammered against my ribs. Say something, notice something. Ask why it's only three thousand for a VIP room that usually brings in more.

But Fred was already shoving the money into his desk drawer, his attention already moving on to whatever other shady business he had going. He pulled out a few bills from the stack and tossed them across the desk at me.

"Your cut. Five hundred." He grinned, showing yellowed teeth. "You did good tonight, Scarlett. Real good. I'll send them a message at the front desk to get your regular pay ready too."

I picked up the five hundred and stuffed it into my pocket without counting it. "Thanks, Fred."

"That guy booked you again, you know." Fred leaned back in his chair, said he wants you again tomorrow. Same time, same room."

My stomach dropped. "He did?"

"Yep. Whatever you did there, he liked it." Fred's grin widened into something that made my skin crawl. "Keep him happy, sweetheart. Clients like that are worth their weight in gold."

I forced myself to nod, "I will."

"Good girl. Now get out of here, you look like hell."

I didn't need to be told twice. I turned and walked out of his office, my legs feeling like jelly beneath me. The hallway seemed to spin slightly as I made my way to the front desk.

Rita was there, sorting through envelopes with the bored expression of someone who had seen too much and cared too little. She looked up when I approached and slid an envelope across the counter without a word.

"Thanks." I took it and I walked out of the club into the cool night air. The streets were emptier now, I flagged down a cab and climbed into the back seat, giving the driver the hospital's address.

The ride felt both too long and too short. I kept my hand pressed against my jacket pocket, feeling the bulk of the money there. Ten thousand dollars. Emma's surgery. Her chance.

When we pulled up to the hospital, I paid the driver and practically ran through the sliding doors. I found the billing office and knocked, even though the light was on and I could see someone moving inside.

A tired-looking woman in scrubs opened the door. "Can I help you?"

"I need to make a deposit. For Emma, She's scheduled for surgery."

The woman nodded and gestured for me to come in. I sat down across from her desk and pulled out the money, my hands steadier now that I was so close to finishing this.

She counted it carefully, running each bill through a machine that checked for counterfeits. My heart jumped every time the machine beeped, but they all came back clean. Of course they did. Whatever else the Iceman was, he wasn't the type to deal in fake money.

"Ten thousand dollars," the woman confirmed, typing something into her computer. "The deposit has been paid in full. Emma will be moved to pre-op in the morning to prepare for surgery."

I was very relieved, I almost started crying right there in the billing office. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, honey." The woman's expression softened slightly. "Your sister is lucky to have you."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I took the receipt she handed me and walked out of the office.

I made my way to her room, just to see her one more time before I went home. She was asleep, her face peaceful in the dim light from the monitors. I stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching her chest rise and fall.

"I did it, Em," I whispered. "You're going to be okay."

A nurse approached and gently told me that visiting hours were over, that I would have to come back tomorrow. I nodded and walked out tiredly.

The cab ride home was fast, I kept thinking about everything that had happened tonight. The stranger's hands gripping the chair. His eyes watching me like I was something he wanted to devour. The way I had broken every rule I had set for myself.

And Fred. Sweet, stupid Fred who had no idea I had just stolen ten thousand dollars right under his nose.

I would pay it back eventually. Somehow. Maybe I could take extra shifts, save up my cuts. Maybe the Iceman would request me again and I could skim a little each time until the debt was covered.

The cab dropped me off in front of my apartment building. I climbed the stairs slowly, all I wanted was to collapse into bed and sleep for about a hundred years.

I unlocked the apartment door and pushed it open, already pulling off my jacket.

The sound hit me first, a rhythmic creaking. Followed by a woman's voice, breathy and high-pitched. And then Max’s  voice, low and rough in a suspicious way.

My feet moved on autopilot, carrying me down the turning to the bedroom. The door was half open, I should have turned around, should have left or have done anything except push that door wider but I did and I saw them.

Max, my boyfriend of two years, naked and moving above a woman whose face I recognized immediately.

His "sister." The one he had introduced me to three months ago. The one who had smiled sweetly and hugged me and called me family.

They didn't notice me at first, too caught up in each other to see me standing frozen in the doorway.

The envelope of money slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.