America. New York City.
"Why the hell do you call me 'a redhead witch'?" I glared at the old man. "I already told you-I don't fuck grandpas," I snapped, storming out of the VIP clubroom.
"Yo! What's up, Micah?" Ricky shouted, trailing behind me as loud rap music blasted from every corner of the club.
"Don't tell me you confessed to Friday again," I say, walking to another hallway, where there are crowds of people dancing and drinking.
"You are the reason why Friday won't say she loves me back."Ricky whistled.
"Well." I stopped on my track, glancing at him. "Her life isn't some fucking boring fiction, you know. Just continue fucking her, and your relationship will go on smoothly. Cut the bullshit called love. Can it even be the name of an animal?" I said with disgust and gave him a purse. "You know who to give the drugs to."
I strolled to the other clubroom, which is less noisy with strippers pole dancing and rich folks laughing and getting lap dances from some slut like me.
"Micah!" Adam called, and I smiled at him as he walked closer to me, then we kissed.
"Hi." I greeted softly, my eyes raised at him, and his hand was on my waist, trailing to my butt.
I'm Micah Taylor. Red hair. Sharp tongue. And a past no girl should carry.
My father is my "manager." That's what he calls it when he hands me off to men who want me in their beds.
It started when I was twenty, after his friend forced himself on me. The same man who'd been eyeing me since I was eighteen. I didn't break that night, but I discovered how cruel the world could be.
I was well compensated with a huge ransom of money, but that didn't stop me from depression.
My mother soon came to know that her husband's friend had done that to me; on her way home to find out from me, she got into a fatal accident, and we needed money for her surgery, but there were no means except my dad's friend, who desired me in exchange for giving us the money for my mum's surgery.
So, I'm now my dad's special trader.
"They have been waiting for you." Adam's hand was finally on my butt, his blue eyeballs were calm against the red light in the clubroom, and I smiled at him.
"Well, I was negotiating with the man I was to fuck tonight. He's dead old!" I cursed, remembering the man I was to have sex with tonight, how come he is not in his andropause yet?
"Did he accept the negotiation? Or he's gonna ask for a refund from your dad?"
"Whatever," I replied, rolling my eyeballs, still in a waist hug with Adam, who has been a client of mine for a year, but we became closer when he introduced me to the drug-dealing business.
"I should go." I kissed his cheek and smiled a little before walking to the men who were seated on the sofa. All are sexually aroused by the lap dances and pole dancing from naked strippers.
Slow sensual music was playing, which made the atmosphere in the room even more erotic.
"Hello, gentlemen," I called with the seductive voice that always has many men bow to me, and my charm was my slender hourglass body and my smile. I used them-smiling seductively as I walked toward a man.
.
.
"Here we are." Adam pulled the car to a stop in front of my dad's house, and I sighed, preparing to alight from his car. "Well... Have you given it a thought? About staying with me a little longer?" He asked, and I glanced at him.
"Hmm." I hummed.
"I'm moving to Sicily soon, and it might be my big chance in this business." He spoke, and I gave a slight shrug. "Are you worried about your dad?" He asked, and I tried to hide my fears with a fake smile.
"No, it's not about him." I lied.
"C'mon, Micah. It's time for you to ask for your fucking freedom and get away from your greedy dad. You can't be making money for him forever." Adam said, and I smiled a little.
"I will see to that. I mean, going to Sicily with you." I promised, and he leaned and kissed my neck.
"Well then, see you tomorrow." Adam bade, and I alighted from his car.
"See you at the club." I bade and watched him drive off before turning to enter my dad's house.
I breathed out when I got closer to the door. I stepped inside and walked to the living room, where I heard my dad's voice speaking to someone on the phone.
"Yes, I will surely send her to you." That was my dad, Mr. Taylor, talking, and I knew it was a client who needed my service. I sat on the sofa until Mr. Taylor showed up with a frown. "What did you do to Mr---"
"He's old." I cut in.
"We are after the money, Micah. Young or old shouldn't get in the way of our business." Mr. Taylor nagged.
"Really? Then I'd better start fucking you so you could provide me a responsible share of what I earn." I cussed with a death glare at him, and he scoffed.
"Should I remind you that your mother is still in a coma?" He pointed out that my mother's health always softened me, especially at times like this when we're about to have a heated argument. "Shall I remind you that it's because of you that she is there?" He rhetorically questioned, and I let out a huff, grasping the sofa tightly. "You better don't fuckin mess up if you still want her treatment to be paid by me, and get your redhead to business. Understood?"
"Yes." I ended up being obedient to his command. "I will not repeat the same mistake."
As much as I hate what I'm saying, I knew I gotta say it for my mother's sake. At least her medical bills are being footed with the money I make sleeping around.
"You will not even have the chance to make the same mistake. Pack up, you're leaving for Sicily first thing tomorrow morning." He announced, leaving me aghast. What happened to Sicily? I am willing to do anything for my mother, surely, but why is this city mentioned again today?
