I had just hit the jackpot, winning five million in the lottery. As if struck by sudden generosity, my brother dragged six girls to a Karaoke bar and insisted I foot the bill.
What baffled me even more was how a simple touch of my hand somehow racked up a tab of three million. I froze, my jaw slack in disbelief, realizing I had entered a trap.
When I refused to pay, the six girls wasted no time. They called in reinforcements who tied me up without hesitation, threatening to “deal with me” if I didn’t hand over the money.
But my boiling anger turned into ice when I saw the Karaoke bar’s manager enter the room.
The familiar face sent a chill down my spine. Wasn’t that Margaret Beverly, my sister Brenda Miller’s subordinate?
Brenda, my fiercely protective sister, ran her gang with an iron will, allowing no room for foolishness, especially when it concerned me. Years ago, she got injured in a brutal clash with a rival gang. Furious, I didn’t speak to her for a month.
It wasn’t until she broke down, tears streaming down her face and swore she’d leave the underworld behind that I finally forgave her.
But who could have guessed that, years later, her loyal followers would return to their old ways?
And worse, they had the audacity to tie me up!
***
"I think you’ve got a death wish, daring to freeload on Maggie’s turf!"
"Hand over the money, or we’ll start chopping off your fingers!"
The same girls who had been sweet-talking me moments ago were now baring their claws, their threats sharp and merciless. One even pulled out a fruit knife, testing its edge against my little finger.
I jolted in shock, my heart pounding. Was this some kind of shady den?
No wonder they had the audacity to charge three million just for a single touch. This wasn’t a bill, it was daylight robbery.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I forced my voice to stay calm as I asked, "Where’s my brother? Where did he go?"
If it hadn’t been for my lottery win and James Moore dragging me into this Karaoke bar, I would’ve steered clear of this place. Sure, the girls were stunning, each one as gorgeous as a member of a global group.
But as I mentally calculated the two million left in my account, I realized too late that no amount of beauty was worth this kind of extortion.
Were their hands made of gold? This place was as shady as it got!
When I brought up James, one of the girls sneered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"You can’t even save yourself and you’re worried about someone else?"
"You came in here, ordered six girls like you were some filthy-rich heir and now you’re whining about three million? Stingy much!"
Her words hit like a slap, but before I could respond, she added with a wicked grin, "If you don’t cough up the cash, we’ll send you straight to Mentor Wilson. He’ll make sure you ‘work’ off the three million."
Panic surged through me and I blurted out, "I’m not going anywhere! Don’t you realize this is illegal? Kidnapping and extortion, this is a crime! Let me go right now!"
"What, you think freeloaders like you have the moral high ground? Pathetic. Fine, if you’re too scared for Mentor Wilson, then pay up! Or I’ll just handle you myself!"
Without warning, she grabbed a beer bottle and brought it down on the back of my head.
Pain exploded as the glass shattered and warm blood began to drip down my forehead, staining my vision with red.
Just as she reached for another bottle, I shouted in desperation, "I’ll pay! But I don’t have that much on my card! How about two million now and I’ll call someone to bring the rest?"
It wasn’t a lie. I had won five million in the lottery, but I had donated over two million to help poverty-stricken areas.
After taxes, only two million remained in my account.
Even if they beat me black and blue, I still couldn’t magically produce three million!
Before I could take another breath, a heavily made-up woman dripping in jewelry slapped me across the face.
"Head to toe, you’re decked out in designer brands and now you’re claiming you don’t have money?"
"Don’t think I’m stupid. If you dare pull any stunts or call the police, I’ll make sure you’re ‘dealt with’ immediately!"
"Maggie, why bother arguing with him? Just send him to Mentor Wilson! With his looks and body, a little ‘training’ will make him a gold mine!"
The words sent a chill down my spine. That was when I took a closer look at the woman they called Maggie. Something about her heavily painted face and flashy jewelry struck a chord. Wasn’t she… Margaret?
Margaret, better known as Maggie, had once been one of my sister Brenda’s trusted subordinates.
My sister ran a gang, commanding respect and fear, but when it came to me, she was a relentless control freak.
After we lost our parents, she took on the impossible role of being both my protector and my parent, raising me single-handedly.
