Chapter Two

The moment I step off the plane, the air hits me like a wall. It’s thick with heat and dust, so different from New York’s crisp autumn chill. My clothes cling to my skin as if they are refusing to let me breathe.

I drag my small suitcase through the crowded terminal, trying not to look like someone running away from a crime scene. Everyone here moves quickly, as though they have somewhere to be.

For me, there’s nowhere. Just the address Natalie gave me scribbled on a piece of paper.

First things first, I buy a cheap phone from a kiosk near the exit. The man barely glances at me, muttering prices in Spanish I barely understand, but eventually I walk away with the device and a prepaid SIM card.

It feels strange, holding something new when everything else about me is broken.

Finding the apartment is harder.

The taxi driver takes me through streets that look older than time, past peeling paint and neon signs, past music pouring from open windows. When he finally drops me off, I stand in front of a narrow building with a crooked balcony and rusted gates.

The saying, ‘’do not judge a book by its cover' definitely applies to this apartment. The outside looks like it's falling apart, but inside it's pretty decent.

The furniture is actually pretty and strong. There's a fan overhead in both the living room and bedroom. The sheep are clean and the bed is quite soft.

Natalie knows how to think of everything at the right time.

I explore the apartment and pack up my few clothes in the wardrobe.

When the silence becomes unbearable, I set up the phone and dial the only number I know. Natalie picks up on the second ring.

“Leina?” Her voice bursts through the speaker, warm and familiar.

The knot in my chest loosens just a little. “I’m here. The place looks quite good. It's not what I'm used to in New York, but… I’m here.”

She laughs softly. “You’ll live. Mexico’s not New York, but it’ll keep you safe. Did anyone follow you?”

“No.” My voice cracks. “I don’t think so.”

“Good. Then you listen to me—you lay low, you do what I told you, and you’ll survive. Tomorrow morning, go to El Jardín Rojo. Ask for Vincent Vitali. Tell him I sent you.”

“Vitali?” The name feels foreign on my tongue.

“He’s… complicated,” Natalie says carefully. “But he’ll take care of you. Just don’t cross him. He can be ruthless.”

I stare at the cracked ceiling, fighting the shiver that runs through me. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No, honey. But sometimes, no choice is the best choice you’ll ever make.”

“Thanks again, Nat.”

“You shouldn't be thanking me. We are friends, and friends help each other. Now Mexico is tough, but you have to be tougher. Don't show people you are too weak, else they'll prey on you.”

We talk until my prepaid minutes warn me they’re running out. When the call ends, I lie in the dark, listening to the fan rattle overhead, wondering if this city will swallow me or spit me out.

~~~

The next morning, I make my way to El Jardín Rojo.

It's a huge building, like the Italian casinos in New York. The sign above the door is eye-catching, letters looking like they are inviting you in.

Inside, the club is filled with just a few men, lusting after a woman on stage. The air is filled with alcohol and smoke. Bartenders dressed in almost nothing walk around freely.

I head towards a corridor and spot two girls dressed in lingeries, chatting. They stop the instant they notice me.

“Need something?” The blonde asks.

“Yes, actually. I want to see Vincent Vitali.”

They exchange a glance before the blonde smiles. “Come along.”

I follow her through the long corridor, amazed at how freely the girls walk around in almost nothing.

After rounding several corners, we get to a huge wooden door. She knocks twice before opening the door and stepping in.

“Ella vino pidiendo verte.” The girl says, and the man who is seated with his back to us nods.

“"Puedes irte. Yo me encargaré".”

The girl nods and leaves, giving me a thumbs up on her way out.

The man turns around slowly, and he's nothing like I expected.

Younger, sharper..

His dark hair is held at the back of his head with a rubber band, his suit perfectly tailored, and dark calculating eyes staring at me from head to toe.

He is covered in tattoos and has several piercings. Two on both ears and one below his lips. For a man, he's beautiful.

“So,” he says, leaning back in his chair and breaking me out of my trance. “You’re the friend Natalie told me about.”

“Yes.” My voice wavers, but I hold his gaze.

“Leina Ashford,” he murmurs, almost like he’s testing the sound of it. “I know the name. Fell from grace, didn’t you? A scandal in white. Natalie told me everything. By the way, I'm Vincent Vitali, but the girls call me V.V”

Heat burns my cheeks, but I don’t flinch. “I need work. Natalie said you’d help me.”

He smirks. “Help is a strong word. But I do own a club, and I do have an audience that pays well for beauty. Can you dance?”

“I can try. But I don't know if I'm good enough. ”

“You don't need to be good enough to have the men spending their money,” he tells me, voice soft. “All you need is confidence in yourself. Let's do this.”

He stands up, walks around the table and leans against it, facing me. “I’ll play a song. I want you to convince me using your body that you, Leina Ashford, are beautiful.”

He fiddles with his phone for a moment. The lights dim, soft music plays, he nods towards the dance pole I hadn't noticed earlier.

I set my bag on the table, and proceed to undress. I keep my gaze down in shame.

“"No, no hagas eso.” You must look into the eyes of the men you are performing for. Confidence is the first rule. It is your body, you own it.”

I take a deep breath, then meet his gaze. I finish taking off my dress and head over to the pole. Placing my hands on it, I do what best I know about pole dancing.

When the music ends I step towards him, trying hard not to cover myself with my hands.

“That was good.” He says, a proud smile on his face “You’ll start tonight. You’ll hate it at first, but you’ll learn. It's a gradual process. Make the men happy, stick to the rules and I'll make you happy.”

I swallow hard and nod. “I understand.”

“Good.” His eyes flick over me one last time, sharp and knowing. “Come back tonight. We’ll see what you’re made of.”

---

That night, the club transforms. Lights burn red and gold, music thrums through the walls, and men crowd the tables with drinks in their hands and hunger in their eyes. The air is heavy with smoke and perfume, with promises none of them mean to keep.

Backstage, I meet the other girls. The blonde I met earlier, introduces herself as Sofia, her smile wide and genuine. A taller brunette, Camila, rolls her eyes but helps me lace the straps of the sequined bra they’ve given me. For the first time since I left New York, I feel something like belonging.

When my turn comes, my legs tremble as I step into the lights. The music swells, drowning out my heartbeat. I grip the pole, forcing my body to move, to bend, to sway.

The crowd cheers.

They throw money.

And somewhere in the heat and the lights and the noise, I stop shaking. My body remembers what control feels like. Maybe not the kind I was raised with, but something darker, sharper. Power, even if it’s bought with shame.

By the time it's over, my heart is pounding so hard, I can hear it in my ears.

I stumble back into the dressing room, Sofia hugs me. “First time?” she asks, grinning.

I nod, breathless.

“You were good. You’ll get better. We all did.”

“Yh, my first time was worse. I froze in the middle of the performance and had V.V give me a lecture after.” A petite girl with brown eyes says.

“Is he kind?” I find myself asking.

“V.V? Of course. He's the kindest you'll meet here. But he's not always here,” Sofia explains while brushing her hair.

“Why?”

“Well he controls the other clubs elsewhere. Like in New York for example. When he's here we get treated kindly, but when he leaves, it's a tough time.”

“Don't let anything scare you,” a girl I know to be Myla says. “Show them you are unbreakable and you will survive.”

For the first time in weeks, a laugh escapes me. It feels fragile, but real.

Maybe, just maybe, I can survive this city after all.