Chapter 2Actor’s Regret, Club Queen’s Victory

Seated in the main armchair was the face I had seen from the stage.

Caden.

So I hadn’t been imagining things.

It had been eight years. He was no longer the fresh-faced freshman who used to follow me around campus. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his eyes sharp and steady, exuding the unmistakable aura of a Hollywood star.

And I… I was a nightclub dancer, selling my body for money.

The shame lasted only a second. I quickly composed myself.

I didn't have the luxury of feelings anymore.

As instructed, I walked to the small stage in the center of the room and began to move to the music. I plastered a seductive smile on my face, even as sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging them.

When the song ended, there was a smattering of applause.

Caden, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke. His voice was laced with a chilling mockery.

“Stella. Eight years, and this is what you’ve become. Impressive.”

The room fell silent. The others, sensing the tension, chimed in.

“Caden, you know her?”

Caden picked up his wine glass, his eyes sweeping over me with disdain. “Not really. We went to the same university. I just had the misfortune of hearing about her… glorious achievements back then.”

He drew out the words “glorious achievements,” and the men around him chuckled with knowing smirks.

“Well, if she’s an old friend of yours, she should give us a proper show, right?” one of them jeered. “How about a striptease to liven things up?”

My body went rigid, and the color drained from my face. “I’m sorry, I… I don’t do that.”

“Don’t do that?” the man with the gold chain laughed. “We’re all here to have a good time, why the act? You dance well, and we’ll make it worth your while.” He pulled a thick wad of cash from his wallet and slapped it on the glass table.

The others followed suit, and soon a small mountain of money was piled on the table. The bills glittered under the dim lights, a tempting, filthy sheen.

All I could see were hospital invoices, my mother’s childlike eyes, and the urgent voice of the nurse on the phone.

The seconds ticked by. The mood in the room shifted from anticipation to impatience.

“Are you gonna dance or not? If not, get the hell out!” someone shouted.

Caden just sat there, sipping his wine, a king watching a spectacle from his throne. And I was the sacrifice on the altar.

My nails dug into my palms, the pain the only thing keeping me grounded.

I gave a slow, deliberate nod.

The music started again, slower and more provocative this time.

I reached up and untied my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. Then, with trembling fingers, I reached for the zipper on the side of my dress. The sound of it sliding down was quiet but deafening.

The dress slipped from my shoulders, revealing the thin, black lace bra underneath. The air conditioning was cold, raising goosebumps on my skin. I moved mechanically, trying to cover myself with my arms, which only earned me more excited whistles.

Just as my shaking hand reached for the clasp of my bra—

“That’s enough,” Caden said, his brow furrowed.

Everything stopped.

I stood frozen, the dress half-off, pooled around my elbows.

He stood up and looked down at me, his disgust unconcealed. “A leopard never changes its spots. Just like your mother—you’ll do anything for a price.”

He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

With Caden gone, the others lost interest and began to leave.

I quickly pulled my jacket tight around me, hugging myself as I stood there, stunned.

Just then, the producer, Mr. Wallace, walked over to me. He tucked a business card into the top of my dress, his voice greasy.

“Stella, right? You’ve got a great body. And you can really move.” He leaned in close, his breath reeking of alcohol. “I’m working on a new project. Looking for actors who are… adventurous. Willing to get creative. Give me a call if you’re interested. The price is negotiable.”