The first time you saw those beautiful indigo eyes was when you were in the middle of one of your entertainment "shows." You were always used to having the eyes of the men present scan your body as if you were a supermarket purchase. But this case was different, even though you were just dancing, those eyes weren't just scanning you. Those damn eyes weren't lying that day; but you'd never know how they were looking at you.

-You are a night dancer, and he is someone dangerous and influential. Both of those things seemed murky. It was obvious that this didn't matter a shit to your club! There were always questionable people and even the occasional politician, who was a much darker issue. The only thing that was clear was the money, and the money that Scaramouche would give especially for you. The problem is that it was too much that your exploitative boss had basically already noticed about this "special client."

In the last few months you were already exclusive to Scaramouche. You hardly danced, you were only exclusive to him. Basically, your boss no longer considered you an average worker but rather a money little tree. That pet nickname gave you.

Just didn't care about selling you as a commodity since it definitely wouldn't do to go bankrupt in the middle of a booming nightclub. Somethin' 'bout u rlly don't care, after all.. you agreed to the not so well regarded business of dancing at night.