Page 23 of Seduced By Contract

When I reach the apartment, I thank God that Eleanor is already asleep. After taking off my sandals, I check on the babies. Soraya and Silas are sleeping like angels, and that calms me enough to regain control of my emotions.

I retrieve a clean set of pajamas from under a cushion on the living room couch, which I know Eleanor left for me, and enter the only bathroom we have. There are only two bedrooms in the apartment; the babies' room is too small to fit a bed besides the cribs, so I sleep in the living room. My stepmother has a cervical problem that would worsen if she slept on the hard couch, so I gave up the double bed for her when we moved here.

Under the hot water spray, I close my eyes tightly, trying to erase what happened tonight. I have no intention of calling Zeus in forty-eight hours. I knew I would say no to his indecent proposal the moment he suggested it. Maybe in his world, women would thank him on their knees for the opportunity toparade alongside a man like him, but money and luxury don't impress me. I've always been poor, and I'm fine with that.

The worst part is that I know, in his mind, that proposal was something normal, like closing a deal. He genuinely believed I would give up my life and responsibilities to be at his beck and call wherever he is in the world? Yes, he believed that.

I lean my head against the cold shower wall, promising myself that I will never think about the arrogant Greek again. Satisfied with this decision, I turn off the water and wrap myself in a towel.

I defog the mirror above the sink and look at my tired face. I lied to him. When Zeus kissed me, he threw me off-balance. I wanted to believe in a fairy tale, even though I knew how dumb that desire was. But when he made his proposal, I quickly snapped back to reality.

Let him wait for my call over the next two days. It will be good for him to learn that not everything in life has a price.

What I have no idea of at this moment is that my world is about to spiral into despair.

SIN NIGHTCLUB

"Isn't it prostitution?"

"No, are you crazy? What do you think I am? He's my sugar daddy."

I'm entering the nightclub dressing room to change for the second performance of the night when I overhear two dancerstalking. I feel awkward hearing something so intimate, as I have a rough idea of what that term means, "sugar daddy." I read a book a few months ago where a girl had one. It's not prostitution, as the author explained, but rather a consensual relationship with defined rules between an older man and a much younger girl. Basically, he provides his “sugar baby” with a certain lifestyle that she couldn't afford without his sponsorship, and in return, she gives him her time, affection, and attention.

I'm curious to know which of the girls has a sugar daddy, but I don't go over to where they are because it's none of my business.

I step into the dressing room and see that Adriel has set out a fluorescent green outfit for me to wear for this dance. God, the lingerie is so eye-catching that I wouldn't be surprised if they see me from the lunar platform. If the goal was for me to stand out on Earth, it will definitely be achieved.

After putting it on, I go to the mirror. It doesn't look too bad on my body, I think, and immediately the memory of last night and Zeus's eyes as I danced for him comes to mind.

I force myself to stop reminiscing and leave the dressing room, determined to give it my all tonight.

I haven't checked the tip he gave me because, somehow, it doesn't feel right to accept that money, even though I know how silly that thought is. He was in the role of the client, and I was the dancer. I did my job, and he paid for it. End of story.

Determined to focus on what I need to do, I clear my mind of everything except the music I'm about to dance to.

But as soon as I step onto the stage, my plans crumble because Zeus is sitting in the front row again.

I don't even pretend not to see him. As much as my rational side tells me I should ignore him, my eyes are treacherous.

I use the only weapon I have to combat the insane attraction he arouses in me: my body. He makes me tremble with theintensity of his gaze, but I'll leave himuncomfortablein his pants.

I allow the music to penetrate my consciousness, and I start moving against the pole, my back turned, sliding my behind and going down to the floor. I open and close my thighs, caressing the inside of them. When I lift my head, he's the only one I see.

My heart races. I'm aroused and forgetful of my determination to make him pay, as the desire I see in his face leaves me breathless.

The music ends, and I take longer than usual to leave. When I'm almost off the stage, I look back.

Disappointed, I realize he's gone.

It’s better that way. One of us had to break free from that sexual trance. It's a pity that despite everything I tried, I wasn't the one who woke up first.

Three and a half hours later, I leave the nightclub. Unlike yesterday, this time I danced six songs, and Adriel said I should check my tip jar tomorrow. I'll do that. I know they pay weekly, so I can pay the electricity bill and the phone bill, which is already two days overdue.

When the security guard opens the door for me to leave, I recognize Zeus's car parked outside and my heart starts racing again. This time, a driver steps out of the vehicle.

"Miss Foster, Mr. Kostanidis instructed me to take you home."

"He's already . . . gone?" I try to hide my disappointment but fail miserably.

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