Page 2 of Wreck Me

Once again, I’m at the centre of a sex scandal.

I’ve spent the day defending my actions to my PA, the press and even my mother, and I’m expecting a summons from The Board sometime very soon.

Which is precisely why I called this family meeting.

Because I have a plan.

Chapter Two

SCARLETT

Stunning women of all descriptions flit around the changing rooms in various stages of undress. I shift on the thick velvet stool and readjust the gleaming platinum wig framing my face. I barely recognise the woman in the gilded oval mirror. Huge kohl-lined eyes, expertly contoured cheekbones, and thick dark lashes. Full lips outlined in a rich, sultry shade of crimson match the decadent lingerie sculpting my skin.

If you can call it lingerie.

Two lace scraps cover my nipples and a matching triangle nestles between my legs and ass cheeks. It’s the tiniest outfit I’ve ever worn, but undoubtably the most expensive, thanks to the Luxor Lounge’s limitless account at Belle de Nuit, Dublin’s most exclusive lingerie store.

‘Sister, you look smoking,’ my best friend, Avery, declares in her distinguished private-school accent. She might be a glorified stripper, but she’s also six months off graduating from Trinity, Dublin’s most desirable college, with a doctorate in psychology. We were roommates in the first year. We lived together, ate together, studied together, and now she’s finally convinced me to work with her, too.

Avery perches on the vanity station in front of me and places a bottle of open champagne between us. In a two-piece silk ensemble that cost more than my monthly rent, Avery looks pretty fucking smoking herself. Her ability to move her body gracefully and shamelessly is pretty dang attractive too.

My eyes return to the mirror. ‘I don’t know if I can do it,’ I confess.

‘Course you can.’ Avery reaches out, stroking the back of my arm. ‘You were born to perform.’

‘Naked?’ I motion to inch after inch of exposed skin.

‘Trust me. The sensation of being watched, being admired, desired, and fought over and sought after by the wealthiest, most powerful men in this country is almost as exhilarating as having one of them between your legs.’

I wouldn't know.

I’ve never had any man between my legs.

At the age of twenty three, I’ve barely been kissed.

What happened to my mother was enough to put me off men for a long time. Both her marriages were miserable. The second one literally killed her. My fingers instinctively reach for the dainty silver cross lodged in the hollow of my neck. It’s the only item I own that belonged to her. I never take it off.

What would she think if she could see me now?

Would she be horrified?

Probably not. Carlotta Fitzgerald was the most liberated person to walk the planet. She used to say, ‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it.’ And she had it. She was beautiful. Dark hair and piercing eyes, although her most attractive quality was undoubtably her heart.

Avery touches my bare shoulder, dragging me back to the present.

‘Like I’d know.’ I pull a face. Avery is well aware myvirginity is a burden I haven't been brave enough to shake. Not because I’m afraid of the pain. Not physically, anyway.

‘Trust me, Scarlett, being on that stage is enthralling. The seductive thrum of the beat. The weight of every wanting stare. The power you hold with every deliberate flick of your hips. You’ll never feel as alive.’ She grabs two champagne flutes and holds them up to inspect them, before filling them.

‘I’ll take your word for it.’ There’s no way on this earth I’d contemplate dancing at the Luxor Lounge if I wasn't desperate. With less than a hundred euros in my current account, forty thousand euro of debt on various credit cards, and about a tenner in my purse, I’m out of other options.

Especially now my money-grabbing landlord has increased my rent with immediate effect.

The college pole-dancing classes we started in our first year were supposed to be for fitness, but Avery quickly learned to harness them in more lucrative ways.

‘Drink this.’ Avery thrusts a glass under my face. ‘It’ll help.’

I take three huge mouthfuls then place the half empty glass on the marble table. ‘What if they don’t like me? What if I fall flat on my face?’

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