Page 12 of My Sweetest Temptation

I turned to face Malik, my heart aching at the thought of leaving him behind. “What about you?” I asked, my voice quivering. “You’re not coming with me?” He was more than just a protector; he was family in every way that mattered. He’d always been a part of my life and I couldn’t imagine losing him too.

He took both of my hands in his. “Not right away. I need to stay here to make sure no one picks up your trail. If I get a whiff that they’ve found you, I wouldn’t want to intentionally lead them to you.”

I gave a single nod, a wave of sadness crashing over me at this cruel twist of fate.

“Once you arrive at the airport, the driver will take you to your new apartment,” Madison said. “Gigi, you cannot trust anyone. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand,” I replied. “What’s my new name?” I asked, a sense of dread creeping in now that I was losing my identity along with everything else I had already lost.

“Winter,” Madison said softly.

“So, were Chris and Natalia their real names?” I asked.

Madison’s expression turned somber. “Chris was your father’s name,” she replied. “Your mother’s real name was Angelica.” She paused. “I don’t know her maiden name; she kept it secret to conceal your identities.”

“Did my father know anything about this when he married my mom?” I asked.

Deep down, I had known he couldn’t be my biological father. We looked nothing alike. I never asked Mom because he was my dad in every sense that mattered. He taught me how to ride a bike, took me to our father-daughter dances, and showed up at every recital, cheering me on like a proud father.

Madison looked away, her gaze distant, as if she was peering into a past shrouded in shadows. “No. She thought it was best to keep that part of her life a secret. The world she came from was dangerous, and she believed that anonymity was your best chance at a normal life.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with what they sacrificed, and all for me. The crushing fear, grief, and the stark reality of my situation overwhelmed me like a heavy, suffocating blanket, pressing down until I struggled to breathe. My fate had been decided for me, thrust upon me like a cruel twist of destiny, and I was left to wrestle with the shattering truth. Nothing would ever be the same again.

I never envisioned myself in this kind of situation. If someone had told me that I would end up draping myself in glitter and wearing barely-there clothes that left very little to the imagination, all while shimmying on a silver pole in front of a sea of middle-aged horny men, I would have laughed so hard I’d probably need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. And then probably smacked them upside the head for even suggesting such a ridiculous idea.

Not that I had anything against the women or men who chose this kind of career. I’d seen Magic Mike, but this felt like a far cry from the dreams I once had for myself. I envisioned myself as a violinist, pouring my soul out, performing in the grand halls of the Boston or Chicago Symphony Orchestras.

But here I was, caught in a reality I never could have anticipated, struggling with the disconnect between who I was now and who I once thought I would had been. But my parents’ tragic deaths forced me to move far away from our small town in Canada and into an apartment in a neighborhood that felt as foreign as a distant land.

And with it came a new name.

A new life.

When I first moved here, I had to find a job where no one would pry into my past. So, I took a job as a waitress/dancer. It wasn’t my first option, but it felt like the safest bet. An escape into the shadows, a way to hide underground and a place where most didn’t use our real names. Music and dancing had always been my refuge; I’d loved them since I was a child, especially contemporary dance, where movement told a story without words. This gig seemed like it would be easy enough to manage. Even though I didn’t have the curves that many might expect from a dancer, I did have a toned body sculpted by years of practice and discipline. Yet, oddly enough, the men seemed pleased when I was on stage. They gazed, entranced, while I fought against the unsettling feeling that my skin was crawling, as if a billion tiny bugs were scuttling beneath the surface.

Every night, under the harsh glow of the stage lights, I transformed into someone else, and it gave me a fleeting confidence. But deep down, that confidence was a fragile mask, held together by my secrets. I danced not just to entertain but to escape, to forget who I was, if only for a moment.

The worst part of this entire nightmare, aside from the unbearable pain of losing my parents, was that I couldn’t even say goodbye to them at their funeral. They had to stage my death to cover my tracks. It chilled me to wonder how Malik managed to find a body that could pass for mine. But deep down, I understood why. If those men who killed my parents believed that I was also dead, it could throw them off my scent. It might let me slip away and keep me safe for a while longer.

I couldn’t believe it had been six months since that horrible day. I adjusted the halter of my dress, the fabric hugging me a little too tightly, a reminder of how much had changed. The girls were dancing on stage to “Birthday Sex” by Jeremih. I spotted Adrian, my favorite bartender, behind the bar.

“Hey, Adrian!” I called out, making my way through the throng and trying not to fall on my face while wearing these killer heels. “What’s with the crowd tonight?”

“We’ve got a bachelor party in the back room,” he said, gesturing with his head. “Reserved the VIP section.”

I leaned against the bar. “A bachelor party, huh? Are they as crazy as the last group?”

The last one had to be kicked out for getting too handsy with the dancers and servers, including me. I could still hear the guy’s yelp of pain when I slammed a tray down on his hand. Definitely not one of my finer moments, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Thankfully, Lola, our boss, was fiercely protective of us. “I’d have chopped off their dicks,” she had said with a laugh.

Adrian chuckled, his tousled dark hair falling slightly over his brow as he shook his head. “No, not as bad.”

Just then, Tabi appeared, gliding through the crowd in her sequined outfit that sparkled like it was made of stars. Her platinum hair cascaded down her back, catching the light with every movement, and her confident smile drew the eyes of every man in the room. Tabi’s face lit up when she spotted me.

“Hey, Winter!” Tabi exclaimed, enveloping me in a warm hug. She leaned over the bar, giving Adrian a playful wink. “And you, my man, are looking particularly delicious tonight.”

Adrian smirked, wiping his hands on a towel. “Tabi, you’re looking amazing as always.”

“Thanks! The crowd is wild tonight!” Tabi turned back to me. “You’re not dancing?”

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