| BOOK ONE | THE LONDON CRIME KING | A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE NOVEL |
2020 Fiction Award winner for The Best Protagonist, The Best Supporting Character, The Best Friendship and The Best Plot.
2020 Choice Award winner for The Best Series.
A Wattpad Exc...
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A good night's sleep was vital for my first shift at Club 11, but nervousness kept me awake for most of the night. I tossed and turned in bed until sunrise, the chirping birds outside, onomatopoeically tormenting.
Eventually, I climbed out of bed amid weariness, drank three coffees and scrubbed the flat to stay occupied. If nothing else, it put worries at bay until it was time to put the glad rags on.
I have wanted to get my foot in the door with Club 11 for so long, but now the opportunity has arisen, I am a nervous wreck. It's not only the fact Liam and I will see each other often that had my stomach twisted in knots. It's the job requirement itself. I must dance half-naked in front of libidinous men.
After learning Liam Warren has numerous unreadable physiognomies, I know he's not going to share any details regarding Kathy with me, not that I'm brave enough to interrogate him, but surely, a dancer, barmaid, cleaner or bouncer will remember something—anything that will help me uncover the truth behind my sister's disappearance.
I am not docile enough to probe Liam's loyal subjects straight away. It's going to take some time to befriend them. Earn their trust. I hope someone will mention Kathy without querying or investigating. Well, that's the best-case scenario.
I arrived at Club 11 earlier than expected. I'm not overly eager about strutting around in my underwear, but I wanted to make a good impression. Although Liam reconsidered his uncertainties about hiring me, I know the most challenging part is over. I have an impermanent job role in showing self-worth. Realistically speaking, Liam knows I am incapable of exotic dancing. I mean, my performance in his office was not only embarrassing but downright painful. I lack self-confidence, and I am unglamorous compared to the other women.
I'm still unsure how I managed to pull this off, but I will assume that my arse in his hands clouded his judgement. He's a warm-blooded male. I presented myself in lace underwear. In that heated moment, he overlooked previous reservations.
It wasn't a typical interview—I don't think. He was more concerned with touching me. Not to sound conceited, but his advances would have gone further had I been willing or acted on the gravitational pull that enthralled the sexual air between us.
Tonight, on arrival, it was a surreal moment for me. I omitted the club's queue, as the bouncers were expecting me. I had to sign a few forms before they gave me an employee identification card. One bouncer was kind enough to show me around before shift. It wasn't much of a tour. He half-heartedly pointed out the locker room for designated employees and showed me the bar and toilet facilities, and reminded me that the suites upstairs were off-limits without prior permission from the boss.
I had fifteen minutes before my first shift started, so I surveyed the dancers in the main room, who flawlessly and acrobatically worked those poles to gain male attention and paying clientele. I studied YouTube videos this afternoon to perfect pole dancing, but no amount of studiousness prepared me for such venereal finesse.
