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Kidnapped for the Mafia's Baby

Chapter 2

Six months later

Peggy stared at her consideration in the mirror, struggling to muster any confidence to step out the door. For half a year, she'd been a dancer at Naked Fantasies. Van Dyne, her boss, wasn't harsh, but he demanded perfection from his girls. When Peggy's eating habits sputtered, he intervened, urging her to maintain her shape. He might have been the only strip club owner in history to enforce a strict diet on his dancers.

“What's troubling you?” Rose asked, settling beside her.

Rose was one of Peggy's few confidantes at the club. A warm-hearted woman with a child of her own, she found solace in her work despite the challenges.

“Just nervous about going out there,” Peggy admitted.

Rose had taught her the ropes of pole dancing, ensuring she avoided accidents. “You're a hit with the crowd. Van Dyne's just concerned about you. He's different from most club owners. I know; I started here,” Rose reassured, patting her arm.

“What do you mean?” Peggy inquired, brushing aside her blonde wig, which irked her.

“Some owners exploit their dancers. They push for extras, offering VIP services where anything goes. But Van Dyne's different. He keeps it clean. Any extras are between the girls and the clients. If a guy wants more, it's up to the girl.”

Peggy had witnessed enough illicit activities on the premises in the past six months. Despite her own experiences, she felt a surge of gratitude for Van Dyne's ethical approach.

“I know it's a good opportunity. But sometimes, I can't help but hate it. Sorry, Hakte had a rough night. He slept all day, and I struggled to calm him down,” Peggy lamented.

“When is your sister coming back for him?” Rose inquired.

“I don't know. I haven't heard from her since she left him with me. I'm clueless about what to do,” Peggy confessed.

Rose offered a comforting smile. “Just keep doing what you're doing.”

“Hey, fatty, you're up next,” Lisany, one of the club's most petite dancers, interrupted, barging into the room. Known for her substance abuse, Peggy had caught Lisany injecting herself between sets, much to Van Dyne's displeasure.

“Go find your dealer, Lisany,” Rose retorted sharply. “You're not wanted here.”

“Screw you,” Lisany spat back before staggering away.

“Thanks,” Peggy murmured, though the insult stung.

“Anytime, sweetheart. I can't stand that girl. She's a ticking time bomb, destined for trouble. Now go out there and own the stage,” Rose encouraged, delivering a playful slap on Peggy's behind.

With newfound determination, Peggy took to the stage, blocking out the audience as she moved to the music. She danced for a single man in her mind, envisioning him watching her with admiration. This imaginary figure buoyed her spirits during her performance.

As she descended the stage after her set, Van Dyne intercepted her.

“What's going on with you?” he demanded, leading her to his office.

Quickly pulling on her shirt to conceal her body, Peggy braced herself for the conversation.

“I'm working,” she replied tersely.

He shut the door firmly, fixing her with a stern gaze. “Are you using?”

“No, absolutely not. I'm clean,” Peggy asserted, holding his gaze.

“Is the kid keeping you up?” Van Dyne softened his tone.

“Yes, he's a handful. I'm doing my best,” Peggy admitted.

“The patrons love you, Peggy. You're a talented dancer. But I need you to stay on top of things,” Van Dyne urged.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You're too good to be true, Van Dyne.”

“I'm a father. I need to ensure that boy is cared for,” he revealed, surprising Peggy.

“I'd never do anything to harm Hakte. Why can't you be less of a hardass?” she retorted.

“Hey, easy. I'm not your typical club owner. I manage this place for a friend,” Van Dyne explained.

“Alright, I'm sorry for worrying you,” Peggy conceded.

After a moment's pause, he released her. Returning to the dressing rooms, Peggy sank onto the toilet seat, feeling overwhelmed. She couldn't bear the strain of this lifestyle any longer.

“I can't believe they're back. It's been over two years, and Edwards is still as attractive as ever,” Lisany's voice drifted in from outside.

Desperate to avoid detection, Peggy remained silent in the stall.

“They're finally here. I've been waiting forever. And Edwards? He's the best in bed, despite his intimidating name,” Diana giggled.

Peggy braced herself for their conversation, covering her ears, knowing it would be explicit.

Peering through a crack in the door, Peggy watched in horror as both girls snorted cocaine. If caught by Van Dyne, they'd be in deep trouble; he had a zero-tolerance policy for drugs.

“I can't wait to please the men. Sure, I hate their leering eyes for a few bucks, but Edwards treats me right,” Lisany declared, rubbing her nose. “This should keep me going for a while.”

"Let's go, time to hit the floor," Lisany's voice echoed as they exited, their laughter fading into the distance. Peggy remained in the restroom, dabbing away her tears.

I'm doing this for Hakte. I'm doing this for Hakte. In that moment, Peggy's resentment towards her sister and their tumultuous upbringing intensified. Their mother had prioritized alcohol and men over her daughters. She couldn't secure a scholarship despite Peggy's efforts to excel in school. Meanwhile, Salt had dropped out, diving into work early.

“Peg, honey, you in here?” Rose's voice interrupted Peggy's thoughts.

Emerging from the stall, Peggy faced her friend, who carried a worn makeup bag.

“You’re up in twenty. Let's get you dolled up,” Rose said, motioning for Peggy to sit.

Remaining still, Peggy allowed Rose to work her magic, transforming her appearance for the night's performance.

“I overheard Lisany and Maria talking about some group that's taken over,” Rose mentioned, her tone tense.

“Black Vows,” Rose clarified. “They're a motorcycle club led by Edwards. Tough bunch, no rules.”

“I've got a bad feeling about this,” Peggy admitted.

“Trust me, do your set, get your cash, and scram. These guys mean trouble,” Rose cautioned.

Van Dyne's arrival interrupted their conversation. “Hurry up, time to hit the stage.”

“I'm on it,” Peggy replied, exchanging a look with Rose.

“You got this. Knock 'em dead. Wish I had your assets,” Rose quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

Peggy chuckled, knowing Rose's remark was meant to reassure her. “See you after?”

“Count on it. Hubby's picking me up in an hour,” Rose confirmed.

“This is your last round for the night, Peg. Wrap it up when you're done,” Van Dyne instructed before leaving.

“I'll wait for you,” Rose added.

“Thanks. Here goes nothing,” Peggy muttered, steeling herself as she exited the restroom and approached the stage.

With the lights dimming, Peggy checked her blonde wig in the mirror, ensuring no traces of her natural hair were visible.

You can do this. Just dance. Envision your man in the suit.

As the music started, Peggy wrapped herself around the pole, following Rose's routine.