A Mafia's Weakness (Book 1)

It was both a club and a hotel.

I worked there. As a waitress.

Don’t get me wrong — I wasn’t a dancer. But in this place, even the servers had to look like we were for sale.

The hotel was massive. And attached to it was the club. Loud music, dark lights, and rules I hated.

Rule number one: wear what they tell you to wear.

The moment I stepped in, *Derek*, the floor manager, spotted me.

“Your outfit is in the changing room. Put it on. Now.”

I bit back a response. “Okay,” I muttered, and headed for the door.

The dressing room smelled like cheap perfume and sweat. On the bed lay a scrap of black fabric. Strings. Lace. Nothing that could be called a dress.

“What the fuck,” I whispered. “I’m not a stripper.”

The door creaked open. Selena, one of the other girls, poked her head in.

“Stop yelling and put it on,” she said flatly. “Tables are waiting.”

I didn’t have a choice.

I slipped into the outfit. It clung to my skin, baring my stomach and riding too high on my thighs. I smeared on the required makeup, rolled my eyes at my reflection, and stepped out.

*Derek* shoved two trays of drinks into my hands.

“Move.”

The floor was chaos. Sweat, cologne, and desperation.

“Hey, you look sexy,” one drunk guy called, grabbing at my arm. I jerked away, set his drinks down, and moved on.

At the next table, a hand shot out and caught my wrist.

“Hey — get your hands off me!”

The man grinned, slow and cruel. He pulled out a thick stack of cash and pressed it into my palm.

“That’s for looking nice, baby girl,” he murmured, licking his lips. “There’s more where that came from. If you keep me company tonight.”

I shoved the money into my apron and walked away before I did something I’d regret.

That’s when I felt it.

Eyes on me.

At a corner table, half-hidden in shadow, sat a man. Silver hair. Sea-blue eyes that cut through the dark like glass. He wasn’t drinking. Wasn’t talking. He was just... watching me.

Like a predator watching prey.

I dropped the tray off and practically ran.

Ten minutes later, *Derek’s* voice cracked through the noise.

*“Harper!”*

Leo, one of the bouncers, appeared beside me. “Boss wants to see you. In his office. Now.”

My stomach dropped. I’d heard the name whispered in the halls.

“Why me?”

Leo’s expression didn’t change. “You’ll find out.”

“Can I at least change first?”

His voice went cold. “The boss said now. Don’t keep him waiting.”

We took the back stairs up, away from the music, into a silent hallway that connected the club to the hotel. Leo stopped at a heavy wooden door and pushed it open.

“Go in.”

I stepped inside and immediately bowed my head.

“You called for me, sir.”

Silence. Then a low voice.

“I thought you were trying to pull something. Were you?”

I kept my eyes down.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

I had no choice.

I raised my head.

And there he was.

The man from the corner. Silver hair. Sea-blue eyes. The same stare that felt like a blade.

He leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was a problem he hadn’t solved yet.

Then he said it, quiet but absolute:

_“Dance on me.”_