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SUBMISSIVE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND Novel Cover

SUBMISSIVE TO MY BROTHER'S BESTFRIEND

Karima Heart leads a dual existence: a reserved scholar by day and a sought-after stripper by night. Her carefully guarded secret faces exposure when her brother’s best friend discovers her hidden identity. To prevent him from revealing the truth, she is forced into a submissive role under his command. As he moves into her home, Karima struggles to maintain her composure while fighting an intense, forbidden attraction she can no longer ignore.
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Chapter 3

KARIMA HEART

TWO DAYS AGO

"Karry, Karry, Karry!"

The club thundered with my name as I stepped onto the stage, my heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. The lights dimmed, and a seductive rhythm pulsed through the speakers. I wore nothing but a strapless black bra and a matching thong that clung to my skin like a second layer, and a glittering mask that hid half my face, but not my intentions.

I love hearing them shout my name like a sweet song...

As I walked to the main platform, every step was deliberate, every sway of my hips a silent invitation and subtle temptation. The crowd roared louder, a sea of voices all demanding the same thing... Of course Marry.

Here, in this room soaked with lust and rhythm, I wasn't the nerdy quiet student at college, who aced her tests and smiled politely at church. I wasn't the quiet or shy girl who avoided eye contact with bullies back at college or always said thank you even when I shouldn't.

Here, I was Karry. A wild, unapologetic, free girl. Nobody knows my real identity or judges me. I was just Karry.

I curled myself around the pole like I belonged to it. The moment my fingers gripped the cold metal, I let the music take over me. I moved with it, twisting, sliding, and arching my back as I rolled my hips slowly and seductively. I dragged my fingers over my skin, letting the crowd see just how much I loved my own body. The more they screamed, the more alive I felt.

Money rained down on me, crumpled bills of lust, greed, and admiration. I danced in it, for it, letting the praise and raw hunger in the room soak into my pores.

Yeah, that was what I wanted. The d*mn money... The only reason why I found myself here.

Then... I spotted a dude. He was new, I didn't see him before... Well, I wasn't a sl*t but... Getting a target, making him hot and getting him to spend, was my speciality.

He was seated at the far end of the club, in a shadowed booth where the light barely reached, dressed sharply in a tailored suit, dark tie, wristwatch that probably cost more than my tuition fee. But it wasn't his outfit that caught my attention.

It was his stillness.

He didn't cheer. He didn't even lean forward like the others, or grinning and drooling. He wasn't even pretending to enjoy the show.

He was just watching.

No, not even that. He was present, but not engaged. His eyes flicked across the room like he was bored, and when they did land on me, just briefly, they moved away just as quickly.

And that made my skin burn. I didn't have an habit of walking up to a man but I did this time.

Because, I was curious. Truth be told, I hated it too.

How dare he come here and not look at me like I was worth undressing him for? How dare he act as if I were invisible, a passing breeze in a room full of hurricanes?

So I did what I knew best.

I slid down from the platform, letting another dancer take my place, and made my way through the crowd with the slow, sultry steps of a woman who owned every gaze in the room. The money clung to my skin, but I didn't stop to peel it off. I had something else in mind.

I reached his table, and for the first time, he looked directly at me. His gaze was calm, assessing me, but I didn't let it shake me. I leaned forward slightly, close enough for him to smell the vanilla and smoke on my skin, my hand reaching for his tie as I coiled my fingers around the silk.

"Why come to the club if you're not going to enjoy yourself?" I asked, my voice a low purr as I teased the knot of his tie between my fingers.

A small, cold smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He took my hand gently but a little bit firm, and let it go like it meant nothing.

"Sorry," he said smoothly. "I don't do strippers."

That hit harder than a slap. My skin burned in anger.

What the hell? Me?

My smile faltered, but I tried to contain myself. The heat that rose in my chest wasn't shame, it was pure fury, laced with intrigue too. I leaned in closer, letting my bre*st brush his chest, my lips just inches from his ear.

"Then what do you do?" I whispered, my voice honey-sweet. I was beginning to get more interested in him. "Students? Little girls? Because I can be that for you too... if you want."

His eyes darkened, not with lust, but something deeper, something dangerous. His gaze locked on mine then, finally seeing me, not the stripper, not the masked girl, but something else.

"I don't do those either," he said, his voice low, almost amused. "But you... you're a daring woman, I'll give you that."

He didn't speak more than a few phrases but something flickered between us. Not desire, at least not in the way I was used to, but recognition. He didn't want me for the reasons everyone else did. And somehow, that made me want him even more.

I stood up straight, slowly, my eyes never leaving his. My fingers slid from his tie down to his chest, pausing there for a heartbeat before I stepped back.

"You'll remember me," I said quietly, turning away with a sway of my hips that could bring men to their knees.

"How about you try,"His words hung in the air.

I turned slowly to him, confused, but a cocky smirk played on his lips."Try?" I echoed.

"Try to get me to remember you." He said,

My head tilted back, a short laugh escaping my lips. I turned to the side, trying to grasp the weight of what he'd just said-

Then that was when my eyes caught HIM.

F*cking hell!

What the actual f*ck was he doing here?

My heart skipped. Then it pounded hard.

Malcom?

He was pushing through the crowd, his eyes on his phone, like he was trying to reach someone. He hadn't seen me yet, but he was getting closer.

Was he searching for me... He couldn't right?

Panic shot through me as I turned to the guy still standing beside me. I grabbed his hand, clutching it tight, my eyes pleading."Please, save me. Get me out of here, hun?" I whispered urgently.

My eyes darted around the room again, Malcom was already halfway in now, scanning the space like a d*mn predator.The new dude, stood up slowly, almost amused.

"Running from someone?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, curious now. The confident girl from seconds ago? She was gone. What stood in front of him now was someone shaken and scared.

"That's Malcom, my brother. He can't see me here. Please..." I begged.

Because if Malcom saw me?He wouldn't just drag me out, he'd burn the whole place down.I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk him.

Before I could say more, the guy pulled me behind the crowd with him, fast but smooth. My eyes stayed locked on Malcom. He had his phone pressed to his ear now, pacing. Still searching while he stood still now.

We reached the back door. I didn't even know the building had a back exit, and I'd been working at DAWN for three months.

Then, the guy raised his phone."Hello? Yeah, let's meet up tomorrow. Something came up."

His voice calm, but his eyes? Locked on me.

He ended the call, then gave me one long look, from my head to my shoes."It's been a long while, Karima Heart."

My blood ran cold.

How did he know my full name?I didn't know him. At least... I didn't think I did.

But in that moment, I just knew my world was about to flip...

And... That was when it started. My misery. He was my misery.

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