Raina sat back against the soft red cushion of the VIP booth, her eyes scanning the crowded dance floor below. The club lights flashed in wild colors, painting her dark skin with red and blue. She slowly sipped at her soda water, not bothering to join the noise and laughter of the other strippers around her.
Most of the girls were busy trying to catch the eyes of the wealthy men scattered around the club, moving close, touching arms, whispering promises over drinks. Raina watched them without judgment.
She has done it all before.
Raina knew how to work the pole, how to move her body just right, how to make a man's jaw tighten with want. She knew the tricks that brought the money rolling in. But what made her different was the way she held herself back. Her dances were smooth and confident, but her eyes always stayed a little distant. She never let anyone too close, not the customers, not the other girls, not even the ones who called her "sis" when they borrowed her perfume.
It was her way of surviving.
She had learned long ago that in this business, control was everything. The moment you let a man believe you needed him, you lost the upper hand. So Raina built charming walls. The men would think she was playing hard to get. But truth was, she wasn't playing at all.
As the DJ switched tracks and the crowd roared, Raina adjusted the strap of her glittering outfit and her eyes unconsciously locked in with a man leaning against a wall from across the room. The weight of his gaze on her was heavy. He looked older, maybe in his mid-forties.
She recognized him immediately as Darius Rucker, a name whispered in awe and fear by most of the girls who worked here.
Raina tore her eyes away, determined to ignore him like any other customer. But she felt his gaze on her like a physical force, drawing her in. Curiosity got the better of her, and she snuck another glance. Darius really hadn't looked away.
Raina's pulse quickened as she watched Darius walk towards her booth in slow, deliberate steps. He carried himself with a strange kind of confidence.
When he reached her booth, he didn't sit right away. He just stood there, watching her, one hand in his pocket, the faintest trace of a smile resting at his lips.
"Raina, isn't it?" His voice was low and smooth.
She didn't answer. She just took another slow sip of her drink, pretending to be more interested in the condensation running down the glass than in him. "If you already know my name, you probably already know the rules," she said finally. "No deals outside the floor."
Darius chuckled quietly. "You are very beautiful, do you know that?"
"You're wasting your time," she said, her tone cool but polite. "The real show's down there." She nodded toward the stage, where two strippers spun under the lights.
He leaned a little closer, just enough for her to catch the faint scent of expensive cologne. "Maybe. But the only person worth watching tonight is sitting right here."
She leaned back against the booth, crossing one long leg over the other, her expression unreadable. "Flattery's cheap, Mr. Rucker," she said, her voice steady. "And I'm not for sale."
Darius's brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his face before he let out a low, amused laugh. "So, you know who I am," he said, his tone shifting from flirtatious to now curious.
"I've heard things," she replied, without looking at him. "Men with power and money tend to have stories that follow them around. Some true, some not."
He studied her for a long moment. "And what do you believe, Raina?"
She met his gaze then, steady and unflinching. "I believe stories don't interest me."
Darius's faint smile faltered, just slightly. He wasn't used to women talking to him in this way, not here, not ever. He studied her for a moment, his eyes glistening in fascination and interest.
"You're different," he murmured.
Raina gave a soft, humorless laugh. "You're not the first man to think so. But they all end up realizing I'm just like every other girl in here."
"I guess I misjudged then," he said quietly. "Enjoy your drink, Raina." And with that, he stepped away from the booth.
Raina watched his tall figure disappear into the crowd. The scent of his cologne still remained. She took another sip of her drink, like she could shake the scent off.
Raina stayed there for a while after Darius left, her gaze fixed on the spot where he'd stood
"Girl, you good?" a voice asked.
Raina blinked and looked up to see Tasha, one of the newer girls, standing by the booth with her tray. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
Raina forced a small smile. "Something like that."
Tasha gave her a knowing smirk. "If that ghost looks like Darius Rucker, baby, I would let him haunt me any damn time."
Raina rolled her eyes, "You are ridiculous, Tasha."
Tasha gave her a playful nudge before heading off again.
And that night, when she left the club and stepped into the cool air outside, she felt it again, that weight of a gaze. The same heavy, watchful feeling from before.
Her eyes scanned across the parking lot. The night was quiet except for the hum of passing cars and the faint buzz of the neon sign above the club's entrance. She adjusted her jacket and started walking toward the street where the taxis lined up.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it.
A sleek black car parked a little too far from the others. The window was half down, smoke curling into the air. And through that thin cloud of smoke, she saw him, Darius, watching her with the same unreadable expression he'd worn earlier.
Raina stopped abruptly.
He didn't signal her to come closer. He didn't even move. Just kept staring.
She tore her gaze away, forcing herself to keep walking toward the taxis. She could still feel his eyes on her as she got into a taxi before the driver pulled away.
Darius sat in the driver's seat, one hand loosely resting on the steering wheel, the other holding a cigarette, the smoke curled toward the half-open window into the cool night air. He hadn't meant to stay this long. Hell, he hadn't meant to come here at all.
He didn't usually visit clubs like Velvet Room anymore, it was always too loud. Too many eyes that recognized him. But tonight had been different. Something had pulled him in that he hadn't been able to shake off since his last business meeting ended. He wasn't sure of what it was. All he knew was that when he saw her on that upper floor, something in him paused.
Raina.
He had heard her name before, whispered between the girls when she had walked past them in that backstage hallway when he'd come for a private investor meeting weeks ago. They spoke of her like a myth.
When their eyes met tonight, it almost caught him off guard. There was something raw about her.
He had expected her to play along when he approached—smile, tease, flatter. But instead, she had cut him down with nothing more than an unimpressed look and a few cool words which threw him off.
He smirked to himself, watching through the windshield as she stepped out of the club now. Even from a distance, she carried herself like she owned her space, not needing protection.
This fascinated him.
When she turned toward the street, catching sight of his car, their eyes met again. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then she looked away and got into a taxi.
He took one last drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke burn his throat before flicking it out the window.
Darius leaned back in his seat, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his mouth. Somehow, within him, he knew he'd be seeing her again.
The following week passed quietly, but Raina couldn't shake the strange pull that night had left behind. Darius hadn't returned to Velvet Room, and yet, she still felt his presence like a scent she couldn't wash off.
She tried to focus on her routine. Dance. Smile. Leave before sunrise.
But some nights, she'd catch herself glancing at the door, half-expecting him to walk through it again.
She didn't want to admit that the thought of him stirred something in her. Not attraction, she told herself. Unease, maybe.
---------------------
Three nights later, she was standing by the back exit after her last set, tugging on her jacket when she heard a voice behind her.
"Still drinking soda water, I see."
Raina froze. The voice was smooth and familiar.
She turned, and there he was, standing just far but close enough for her to catch the faint scent of tobacco and cologne.
Her heart kicked once, hard, before she steadied herself.
"Didn't think I will be seeing you again." she said flatly.
He smiled faintly. "I didn't come for the club."
Raina's jaw tightened. "If you're looking for a private dance, talk to management. I'm off the clock."
"I'm not here for that either," he said, his tone calm. "I wanted to apologize. If I overstepped the other night."
She raised a brow. "That's… surprisingly decent of you."
"I'm a decent man." he said with a small shrug. "And I'm also a curious one. You've been on my mind, Raina."
Her guard shot back up. "That sounds like a you problem, Mr. Rucker."
Darius smiled. A knowing smile.
There was silence between them for a moment. Raina crossed her arms against her chest, pretending she wasn't affected by the way he was staring at her.
"You shouldn't be here," she said finally, her voice quiet."Words travel real fast. And I'm not one of your business investments."
Darius's expression softened. "You think that's what this is?"
"I don't think anything," she said. "I've seen enough men like you to know not to guess."
He stepped closer then, slow enough for her to take a step back if she wanted to. But she didn't.
His voice dropped to a low murmur. "Then maybe I'm not like the men you've met."
Raina swallowed an invisible lump in her throat, forcing a small smile. "Most men says this exact same thing but ends up before proving they're all just the same."
As she turned to leave. Darius spoke again, his voice quieter, almost sounding like a plea.
"I'm not asking for anything from you, Raina. I just wanted to see you again."
Her steps faltered, but she didn't turn to look at him. "Then you've seen me," she said, pushing the door open. "Goodnight, Mr. Rucker."