Page 1 of Titan

One

Theia

The music pulsed in my ear as I fixed my eyes on a spot on the red velvet upholstered seating in front of me. My body twisted around the pole, performing a routine I’d done hundreds of times. Yet each time gave me a sense of satisfaction unlike any other. Something about being watched made my heart race and my body grow hot. It was my escape from the shit in my life and something I was infinitely grateful for.

There were a couple of men seated at the table closest to my raised dais where the pole I was twirling around sat. The club was relatively busy this evening, but as it was a special club night, it was to be expected. The owner of Desecration, Zayn Villetti, sat in his usual place with women surrounding him, surveying the room as he always did. I’d noticed the way he discreetly did business with his various clients and his under-the-table dealings.

Tonight Zayn had arrived with a guest who looked very much like him, with dark hair, tanned skin, and dark eyes. A younger version of Zayn without the tattoos. I wondered if it was his brother. The staff were aware he had two of them, but no one apart from Remi had been formally introduced to all the Villetti men. Unsurprising when Zayn treated her like his little sister. I spent more time around Liza Royce, who was his manager and ran the day-to-day of the club on Zayn’s behalf, than the big boss himself.

I turned my attention away from the club owner and the man I thought might be his brother, focusing back on the men watching me from their table. Their eyes were leering as they spoke in low voices to each other. Something about them made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. All the patrons of Desecration were thoroughly vetted before being allowed entry to the club, but it didn’t mean there weren’t creeps amongst them. Club nights meant clients could bring guests if they wished. It was their responsibility to keep their friends in order. I hadn’t seen these two in here before, so I assumed they were with someone, or maybe they were new. Something told me it was the former. There was no way in hell they’d be let in otherwise. They weren’t our normal type of clientele.

One of them nudged the other, who stood up the next moment. He came closer to the dais, his eyes fixed on my body contorting around the pole. It was my first clue that something was wrong.

I didn’t falter in my routine, but my eyes narrowed on him. While I might like to be watched, I was not here for a guy blatantly looking at me like I was a piece of meat. It reminded me too much of things best left in the past. There was a difference between being watched for the eroticism of it and being leered over. A huge fucking one I understood all too well. For me, there was safety in being watched in this place where there were strict rules and boundaries everyone had to abide by. It wasn’t the same as when people thought you belonged to them, and they could do whatever the fuck they wanted. When people considered you something to be thrown away when they got bored or thought you were of no use to them any longer. But it was never forever. They always came back.

“All right, love?” the man said with a grin.

I didn’t answer him. He clearly didn’t know he wasn’t meant to approach or try to interact with the dancers. We were here to be watched, not touched. If a client wanted a lap dance, they would have to request it via the hostesses who were dotted around serving drinks.

“Cat got your tongue?”

I spun away, knowing if I gave him the time of day, it would only encourage him to come closer. It made me wonder where the fuck the bouncers were and whether they were actually paying attention. Usually, they were good at keeping patrons under control.

My gaze went to Arlo, Zayn’s right-hand man, who was in the corner having a heated conversation with Liza. Something was going on, but I had no idea what. It wasn’t my business. I was here to dance, not pry into what was happening with my bosses.

The next thing I knew, someone had wrapped their hand around my ankle and tugged at it, almost forcing me off balance. I whipped my head around, finding the leering guy staring up at me with a scowl.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.”

I tried to shake him off, but his grip was like a vice. What the fuck was this guy’s problem?

“Let go of me!”

He glared at me and opened his mouth to say something else, but he didn’t get the chance to. A hand wrapped around his throat and dragged him away from me. His nails scraped across my bare ankle, making me wince and hold on to the pole to stay upright. I watched as the man was thrown back into his seat and a loud thump echoed above the music, followed by a pained howl emitting from his throat. My gaze darted down to the table, finding his hand pinned to it by a knife.

What the…

“Don’t touch the girls.”

The deep voice belonging to whoever had said those words echoed around my skull. They were quiet, but I heard it all the same. I stared at the man who had dragged the creep away and swallowed hard when I realised who he was.

“Gil, you cannot go around stabbing my patrons,” came Zayn’s hissed voice as he arrived next to his brother.

“He touched one of your girls.”

Zayn looked plain exasperated with the man I assumed was his brother’s response.

“I realise that, but this is not how I deal with things.”

Arlo joined the fray a moment later, staring down at the man who was whimpering and gesturing to his pinned hand with his other one.

“Do you want me to deal with this, boss?”

His words only made Zayn look even more pissed off. He gestured at the man with a knife in his hand.

“Get rid of him.” He pointed at his brother. “And you, come with me.”

I didn’t know whether to be shocked, amused, or horrified by the scene in front of me. It wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed violence, but it rarely occurred in Desecration. Zayn ran a tight ship. It was one of the reasons I’d chosen to work at the club. I had safety here. I could rely on my work colleagues and my bosses to make sure I was unharmed.

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