Page 48 of Beneath His Robes

ChapterSixteen

Ronan

At the club where I began my life as a stripper, I saw him before he even stepped into the doors. That damn collar. The way it gleamed under the dim lights like a beacon, a flashing warning. My heart skipped, then slammed back into my chest like a fist. I could feel it before I even turned my head—I knew who it was.

Elias.

My body froze for just a split second, the music pounding in my ears as if I were underwater. I didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to acknowledge him, but I couldn’t help it. There was something about the way he moved, about the air around him, that made it impossible to ignore. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him in this city, but it was the first time I saw him here, in this ‘unholy’ place.

Why was he here? I left like he wanted. I was a good little bitch and left him alone. Why did he follow me here, of all places?

I had my life figured out, or so I thought. I moved like a machine, performing my routine, working the pole, my body slick with sweat, the crowd calling out, begging for more.

Their greedy eyes were drinking me in like I was some kind of god in my leather G-string and suspenders.

The money was good.

It beat whoring when it came to energy. The nights bled into each other—nothing but flashing lights, distorted voices, and a sense of numbness. This had been my world. It was easier than being in his.

So why was he here?

He walked around, speaking in low voices to others, but then he saw me.

And my body tensed, betraying me the way it always did when he was near. My chest tightened. I couldn’t breathe. It was like a wall slammed into me, hard and fast, my pulse pounding in my ears as I caught his gaze.

He was staring at me with a mixture of emotions—anger, disbelief, confusion, and lust. I could see it in his eyes, even from across the room, and swayed closer on the stage, running my hands down every contour of my body he was missing.

His beautiful face was frozen with those looks. I used to give myself the same kind of look every morning when I’d gaze in the mirror.

I hated the person staring back.

I tried to keep it together. I had to. I wasn’t ashamed of my choices.

This life. My life.

But I couldn’t keep my eyes off him as I moved through my routine, my body flowing with the music. I didn’t need to dance for him. Hell, I didn’t need to dance for anyone. But tonight, I felt like I was dancing for him—for his forgiveness, for his approval. For a connection he didn’t deserve, but I was desperate to have.

I couldn’t help it.

I moved even closer to the edge of the stage, where the spotlight hit me harder, blinding and burning, but I didn’t care.

I locked eyes with him—my priest, my mon pur, my Elias—and I wanted to say something. Anything. But I couldn’t find the words.

What was there left to say?

He was staring at me like he didn’t even recognize me. Like I was just some stranger, and he’d happened to walk in on me.

I finished my routine.

The cheers from the crowd were distant, meaningless. My whole body felt like it was on autopilot, moving, gyrating, touching the pole with the grace of someone who had done this a thousand times, but it didn’t mean anything.

As the last notes of music faded, I swung off the pole, my feet touching the ground softly, but I could feel the weight of everything pressing in on me. Elias was still there, standing at the edge of the crowd, his mouth slightly open, eyes wide. I could see him trying to figure me out and piece together the wreckage of the person he thought I was. I could feel his judgment, his disappointment, even though he wasn’t saying a word.

I walked toward him slowly, taking my time. It was like everything around me faded into the background—the murmurs of the crowd, the clinking of glasses, the heavy bass. There was only Elias now. His expression was a mask of shock and that lust he couldn’t fucking deny. Not to me.

“You came all this way to see me dance, Father?” The words came out before I could stop them, and I hated myself for it.

The sarcasm and the bitterness were too loud. I could hear them in my voice, and I hated myself for it. But I couldn’t stop it. He had to know the truth. The full truth. All those years ago…

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