FIVE WEEKS EARLIER...
The dressing room at Eclipse slled like expensive perfu, cheap hairspray, and desperation.
Eve stared at her reflection in the mirror, studying the stranger looking back at her. Heavy makeup transford her face...smoky eyes rimd with glitter, lips painted deep crimson, cheekbones contoured into sharp angles. The silver mask rested on the counter beside her, intricate filigree catching the harsh fluorescent light.
Her armor. Her anonymity. Her salvation.
"You’re on in ten," Maya called from across the room, her best friend’s voice cutting through the general chaos of won preparing for the night shift. "You okay? You look pale under all that war paint."
Eve forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m fine."
She wasn’t fine. She was exhausted down to her bones, running on three hours of sleep and too much coffee. The hospital had called again this morning....her mother’s condition was deteriorating. They needed to start the experintal treatnt soon, or....
Eve cut off that thought before it could fully form. She couldn’t think about or. She could only think about the number burning in her mind: $847,000. That’s what the treatnt cost. That’s what she needed to keep her mother alive.
She’d been dancing at Eclipse for eight months, saving every penny from the exclusive private performances. The club catered to the supernatural elite...werewolves, vampires, fae, and creatures she couldn’t even na. They paid obscenely well for beautiful human won willing to dance for them, and even better for those willing to do more.
Eve drew the line at dancing. She’d never crossed into the private rooms where other services were offered. The money was good enough with just performances, and she’d managed to save $68,000 so far.
It wasn’t nearly enough.
"Earth to Eve," Maya snapped her fingers in front of Eve’s face. "Seriously, what’s wrong? You’ve been weird all week."
Eve picked up the mask, running her thumb over the cool tal. "Mom’s numbers were bad at her appointnt yesterday. They want to start the treatnt next month."
Maya’s expression softened. She knew about Eve’s mother, about the rare blood disease slowly killing her, about the experintal treatnt that was her only hope. "How much do you still need?"
"More than I’ll ever have," Eve said quietly, securing the mask over her face. It covered everything from her forehead to her upper lip, transforming her into soone else. Soone mysterious. Soone desired. Soone who wasn’t a twenty-three-year-old woman watching her only family die by inches.
"Hey," Maya gripped her shoulder. "Don’t give up. Sothing will co through. It always does."
Eve wanted to believe her. But hope was a dangerous thing when you were drowning.
"Five minutes!" Rick’s voice bood from the doorway. Their manager was a gruff bear shifter with a soft spot for his dancers and a ruthless streak when it ca to clients who crossed lines. "Eve, you’re opening tonight. Main stage. We’ve got so high rollers in the VIP section, so make it good."
Eve nodded, rising from her chair. The costu she wore was barely there...a sheer silver bodysuit that left little to the imagination, strategically placed crystals providing the only real coverage. It should have made her feel exposed, but instead it made her feel powerful. n paid thousands just to watch her move in this outfit. Their desire gave her control, even if it was an illusion.
She walked through the back corridors of the club, her heels clicking against marble floors. Eclipse was beautiful in a decadent, dangerous way...all dark wood, velvet curtains, and mood lighting designed to make shadows co alive. The supernatural clientele demanded luxury, and Eclipse delivered.
The music started, a slow, sensual beat that thrumd through the floor. Eve took a breath, rolled her shoulders back, and stepped through the curtain onto the main stage.
The lights hit her imdiately, warm and blinding. She couldn’t see past the first few rows, which was how she preferred it. Better not to make eye contact, not to see the faces of the n watching her with predatory interest.
She moved through her routine with practiced grace...a combination of contemporary dance and raw sensuality that had made her one of Eclipse’s most requested perforrs. Her body knew the steps by heart, freeing her mind to wander.
$847,000. Experintal treatnt. Next month. How? How how how?
She spun, arching her back, letting the lights catch the crystals on her costu. The crowd responded with appreciative sounds....whistles, growls, the scrape of claws against expensive wood.
That’s when she felt it.
Eyes on her. Not the general male appreciation she was used to, but sothing focused. Intense. Predatory in a way that made her skin prickle with awareness.
She turned, trying to locate the source without breaking character. The VIP section was elevated at the back of the club, shrouded in shadow. She could make out shapes...three figures seated together, utterly still.
Watching her.
Eve’s heart kicked up, though she wasn’t sure if it was fear or sothing else. Sothing her body recognized before her mind could catch up.
She continued dancing, but now she was hyperaware of those eyes tracking her every movent. It felt like being hunted, like being prey that had finally drawn the attention of apex predators.
When her routine ended and she took her bow, the applause was thunderous. But she barely heard it over the rushing in her ears. She needed to get off this stage, needed to escape those watching eyes.
Eve retreated through the curtain, her breathing harder than the routine warranted.
"Holy shit," Maya grabbed her arm the mont she was backstage. "Did you see them?"
"See who?" Eve asked, though she knew exactly who Maya ant.
"The Blackwood triplets. In VIP. They’ve been here for an hour, and they haven’t looked at anyone but you." Maya’s eyes were wide. "Do you know who they are?"
Eve shook her head, pulling off her mask to wipe the sweat from her face.
"They’re alphas. Like, the alphas of the Northern Territory. They’re..." Maya lowered her voice. "They’re dangerous, Eve. Really dangerous. There are stories about what they do to won."
A chill ran down Eve’s spine. "What kind of stories?"
Before Maya could answer, Rick appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable. "Eve. My office. Now."
Maya shot her a worried look, but Eve forced herself to walk calmly behind Rick through the maze of backstage corridors. His office was small and cramped, filled with filing cabinets and the lingering sll of cigar smoke.
"Sit," Rick gestured to the chair across from his desk.
Eve sat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "If this is about my performance..."
"Your performance was fine," Rick interrupted. He pulled out a tablet, tapped the screen a few tis, then turned it toward her. "This is about an offer."
Eve leaned forward, reading the docunt on the screen. Her eyes caught on the number first because it was impossible to miss.
$2,000,000.
Two million dollars.
Her vision blurred. "What..."
"Exclusive contract," Rick explained, his voice careful. "Six months. The clients want to book you for private performances. Every night they want you, you go. No refusals."
Eve’s hands started shaking. Two million dollars. That was more than enough for her mother’s treatnt. More than enough for everything.
"Who?" she whispered.
Rick’s expression darkened. "The Blackwood brothers."
The na ant nothing to her, but the tone in Rick’s voice said it should. "The n in VIP?"
"Yes." Rick leaned back in his chair. "Look, Eve, I’m going to be straight with you. These n... they have a reputation. They’re not gentle. They’re not kind. Girls who’ve perford for them co back..." He paused, searching for words. "Changed."
"Changed how?"
"Shaken. Marked. So quit dancing altogether." Rick t her eyes. "I’m not going to tell you what to do with this offer, but I need you to understand what you might be signing up for. These aren’t normal clients."
Eve looked back at the tablet, at the number that could save her mother’s life. "What exactly would I be doing?"
"Private performances. In their ho. Whatever they want, within the bounds of the contract." Rick tapped the screen, scrolling to another section. "It specifies dancing and... companionship. The contract is ironclad—you’d be bound to fulfill it."
"Companionship," Eve repeated. Her stomach churned. She knew what that word ant in this context.
"You don’t have to decide now," Rick said. "Sleep on it. This is a big..."
"I’ll do it."
The words were out before Eve could stop them. Rick’s eyebrows shot up. "Eve...."
"How soon do I need to sign?"
Rick studied her face, and she wondered what he saw there. Desperation, probably. Maybe resignation. "They want an answer by tomorrow night. But Eve, seriously, think about this. Two million dollars isn’t worth..."
"It is," Eve interrupted. "It’s worth everything."
Because it was her mother’s life. And there was nothing..nothing...she wouldn’t do to save the woman who’d raised her, loved her, sacrificed everything for her.
Even if it ant six months with three dangerous n who had reputations for breaking won.
Rick sighed heavily. "I’ll tell them you’re interested. They’ll want to et you first, probably. To make sure you’re... suitable."
Eve nodded, her heart pounding. "Okay."
"Go ho, Eve. Get so sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day."
She stood on shaky legs and walked to the door. Her hand was on the handle when Rick spoke again.
"Eve? Be careful. The Blackwoods don’t play nice, and they don’t do rcy."
She looked back at him, forcing herself to smile. "I can handle it."
She didn’t know if that was true. But it didn’t matter.
Her mother was dying, and two million dollars could save her.
Everything else—fear, self-preservation, dignity...was secondary.
Eve left Eclipse an hour later, changed into jeans and an oversized sweater, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. The mask was carefully stored in her bag, a reminder of the woman she beca under the lights.
The drive to her apartnt took thirty minutes, long enough for doubt to creep in. Long enough to rember Maya’s words: There are stories about what they do to won.
Long enough to wonder what she’d just agreed to.
Her apartnt was tiny...a studio in a rundown building that slled like mildew and broken dreams. But it was hers, paid for with money she’d earned, and it was close to the hospital where her mother was slowly fading away.
Eve dropped her bag by the door and collapsed onto her bed without bothering to change. Her phone buzzed—a text from Maya.
Maya: You okay? Rick looked serious.
Eve stared at the ssage, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. How did she explain that she’d just possibly sold her soul? That she’d agreed to six months with three dangerous n because the alternative was watching her mother die?
Eve: I’m fine. Just tired. Talk tomorrow.
She set the phone aside and stared at the ceiling, her mind racing.
Two million dollars.
Six months.
The Blackwood brothers.
She’d made her choice. Now she just had to survive it.
*****
Sowhere across the city, in a mansion she’d never seen, three alphas sat in the darkness and smiled.
They’d found her.
Finally.
And in six months, they’d make sure she never wanted to leave.
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