PROLOGUE:

BELLA POV

September 2015

Heavy bass vibrated the ground I stood on, even though most of the noise of the music was drowned out by the closed door. I sat in the chair of my vanity, decorated with pictures of the other girls and myself on my twentieth birthday, which was less than a week ago. Funny how I worked in a place where liquor and naked women flowed freely, but I wasn't even allowed to drink. I was allowed to take my clothes off and dance on stage, but I couldn't consume the alcohol we served to patrons. Fuck you, legal drinking age.

Noticing my sweating palms, I wiped them against the thigh high stockings I was wearing. It was the only material available to me, considering my tits and ass were covered in shimmery material. Not exactly the best place to wipe off my sweaty hands.

Despite working in this club for nearly two years now, I still get a little nervous before a set on stage. I know what I'm going to do, and I know I'm going to do it well, because I never do anything half-assed, but there's always those familiar butterflies a few minutes before I take the stage. It's a good nervous, though. It gets my adrenaline pumping, which makes me a little excited and giddy to go out and dance. Typically our customers can see that and end up tipping me more, which means I can keep paying off my loans.

This is all in the name of not being in debt.

"Bambi, you about ready?"

I look up into the mirror, noticing the bombshell blond standing behind me with her hands on the back of my chair. Her tan skin is glistening with glitter that's fallen off of her bra during her dancing, causing her to look like some sort of mermaid, with her wavy hair falling down below her breasts. Her already statuesque figure was exaggerated by the six inch Pleasers she donned, making her well over six feet tall. Her blue eyes smiled at my brown ones in the mirror.

It was hard not to be jealous of her when she was nearly naked, looking like a goddess, her lean body exposed for everyone to see. I had known her for three years now, though, and I knew that she was much more than just her body. She was easily one of the most intelligent people I knew. She was on her way to law school, for Christ's sake. The fact that she was fuck-hot was just an added benefit. Especially when it came to working here; she made easy money and was never late on rent.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Rose, you can call me Bella even when we're at work," I told her. I hated hearing my stage name from anyone other than the customers or the other girls when we were around the customers.

She shrugged and smirked at me. "I know, I just like to see you all worked up."

"Fine, I guess that's the game we're playing tonight, Barbie."

Her smirk fell and she glared at me. Rose hated her stage name just as much as I hated mine. Both of our names were courtesy of her boyfriend, Emmett. When Rose was entertaining the idea of becoming a sex worker when she was younger, she had looked to Emmett, her then-boyfriend, for a suitable stage name. Barbie obviously arose from her naturally striking resemblance to the Mattel doll. Mine, on the other hand was what he called me when we first met. He said my big round brown eyes reminded him of the deer, even though I reminded him on more than one occasion that Bambi was a male deer. He had stopped calling me by that name only a couple months after meeting each other, but Rose thought it was fitting when I started working at the club with her.

Em doesn't know I work here, though. I didn't really want anyone but Alice and Rose to know. I'm not ashamed of how I make my money, actually, quite the opposite. Dancing half naked around drunk customers who throw their money at you is definitely empowering, and an easy way of making money. But I'd just rather keep my job under wraps, especially once it came time to apply to medical school, and then eventually to positions in hospitals. Working around kids didn't exactly bode well if people knew I spent at least two years shaking my naked ass (not really, considering our club is topless only) on stage to provocative songs for money. I loved my job, but prospective employers might not. So it was just easier to keep it between Rosalie, Alice, and me.

She groaned. "You win." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, pushing her large boobs even further into her face. "The DJ is ready whenever you are."

Rose turned to walk out of the door, heading back into the club to go hustle some customers. She looked back at me over her shoulder as her hand twisted the door knob. She winked at me, a smile tugging on her lips "Go kill 'em, tiger."