Page 61 of The Viper's Wife

I fix a smile on my face and point myself toward the nearest man.

“Hey there, handsome,” I say, and the middle-aged man’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “How’s your night going?”

“A lot better now that you’re here.”

I grab the pole and swing myself around it. I don’t even try to lift myself in the air like Lacey is doing now, but the man in front of me doesn’t seem to mind as I sway my hips to the music and weave around the pole. He throws a few dollar bills onto the stage.

I dance for hours next to Lacey. More men come to my stage as the night progresses, just like she said, attracted by my newness.

Most of them encourage me with compliments and praise, but many also ask me about myself, my name, where I’m from, what I like to drink.

And for the first time since I’ve started dancing, I tell the truth.

I tell them my name is Valeria. I’m from Chicago. I like piña coladas. My husband doesn’t know I’m here tonight.

And when I have a big enough crowd going, I take off my mask to roaring applause.

I stuff the money they throw into my garter belt, dozens of faces blurring as I spin.

I’m weightless. I’m free.

I bet Nico feels like this all the time. To be able to choose your own destiny and set fire to the rest.

Once he lets me go, I’ll have to move. The thought fuels me. I could leave the country and go somewhere warm, where the sun always shines on my face.

I scoop up another layer of bills, before a man’s face catches my eye.

Stefano.

I have one second to recognize my brother until I’m ripped off the stage, and a hand clamps over my mouth.

Lacey screams.

My brother’s friend drags me through the strip club while Stefano follows behind. I fight tooth and nail, trailing money behind me like candy from a piñata.

The man throws me into a VIP room, and I stumble backwards until I slam against a wall.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Stefano demands.

His friend, Henry, looms over us, his gaze skating down my body hungrily.

Stefano shrugs off his coat and throws it at me. “Cover up, you look like a whore.”

I clutch the coat in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Somebody recognized you and came to tell me my sister was acting like a fucking slut.” An angry flush covers his face.

I glance at Henry, who watches me smugly, his arms crossed.

“I thought you had this handled,” Stefano says. “You have one fucking job—make your husband happy. Where the fuck is he?”

I press my lips together. If I say anything, he’ll just use it against me. He won’t hurt me, he’s too scared of Nico. Another man saw me, which means the Family will eventually learn that Nico’s fiancée is a stripper.

I just need to get through this evening, and then I’m done. I’m out.

Stefano approaches me, hand rising.

“Nico won’t be happy if you touch me.”