Chapter 6

Isabella’s POV

“You can do this,” I chanted under my breath. “You are the red butterfly, la farfalla roja.”

I pressed my palms against the sleek iron dance pole in front of me. I watched from underneath my eyelashes as neon lights cast a warm hue of red, green, and blue across the many faces in Club Lust. Maroon-colored walls caved in around me as almost naked waiters slinked in and out of the room, delivering drinks to the intoxicated men either hurdled together or enjoying the show alone.

I closed my eyes as I pushed everyone else out, willing myself to be one with the pole. Every Saturday night, on this stage, I had one job, and that was to please the hungry men seated in the crowd, whether I liked it or not. Pole dancing wasn’t something I loved; to be honest, I didn’t think I would ever come to love it, but sacrifices and difficult choices had to be made.

I felt eyes bore into my skin, their desire and lust threatening to peel away every