Charlotte walked into the club, hips swaying, heels clicking and hair bouncing.
There was no line outside, they just slipped in because they had not just entered into a normal club. They had entered into the club where nothing but evil cloaked the air. Charlotte could feel it just as she walked in, goose bumps ran down her skin as a chill ran down her spine. She had been there a couple of times yet never got used to the feeling, the feeling that one day she could walk in and never walk out. They held their heads high as they walked, perceiving a front that they knew what they were doing, that they knew what they were involved in when in fact they did not.
The fact was that hunger and greed had got them there. Three little girls from the ages of twenty to twenty-five throwing themselves into the wolves. They barely wore anything on their bodies. Three years they had been playing the game, three years they had been swaying their bodies for nothing but money in return and what did they do with the money? Well, Charlotte had just bought herself a new phone and laptop just as they had dropped in the market. Her taste had turned expensive and now she had to maintain it.
Her hands were clenched as she nearly choked from the smoke filling the club. The music just played in the background, barely any girls there because it was not a place for women.
The men sat in groups, smoking their expensive cigars, not even glancing their way as they passed, because in that club they were nothing but used goods.
Charlotte’s eyes passed Sternly. Sternly was an old bald man with a small p*nis and bad breath. She had been with him just a few weeks ago but he had introduced her to Striker, who was where she was going to as she walked. She could see Striker. His grey hair was a beacon in the room along with his high-pitched laugh. The man drank more than his fill, yet as she heard his voice she could not help but smile, for he was already intoxicated and that meant more spending on his side and more money for her.
Her heart drummed, seeing the other man who sat with her man, talking about drugs and deals they had just struck. Her head turned to her two best friends. She had got them into the industry. It had started small, just married men looking for amusement, yet the more they introduced them to their friends Charlotte had found herself in the mess she was in which she did not know how she could get out of. Her friends smiled back at her, they were way prettier but her body was the thickest, most curvy thus she got the ones with the deep wallets.
She turned back to take a seat next to Striker, who smelt of nothing but expensive whiskey. She did not talk, you barely talk in the game. You just sit, be pretty and do as told. She crossed her legs, playing with her fingers since her phone had been taken away at the door. Her thoughts travelled to the assignment she had to submit the following day, which she had not even started. She was dismally failing in varsity, but that did not matter, for she was already making enough money to buy herself all the expensive things others could only dream of.
Charlotte had lived her life: trips to many different countries, attending exclusive parties and getting only the best and expensive clothes. She could not help but smile as she sat. Why did she even continue pursuing that degree? School wasn’t for her, she thought. She should just drop out, which would allow her more time with her sponsors, which was what she liked to call them.
“I screwed up.” Striker said.
Charlotte was not in the habit of listening to the men’s conversation, for her mind could not hold that amount of evil which filled the room. All the men there were cold-blooded killers who stole girls and sold them, who shipped drugs and sent them to the streets. All the men there were nothing but the most dangerous in the whole city. She did not know how exactly she had got there, but she was there and she knew getting out would be hard. But did she want to get out? She made thousands of dollars each day, yet each day she could see that in the men’s eyes her value was depreciating. To them, she was just another thing they could use. How many men had she slept with in that room? She could not count anymore, yet as she looked around she could see how far off she had fallen from the ladder?
Striker was nearly at the bottom of the food chain and she had been brought there by Rabder. Rabder was high in the power chain and when he was done with her, he had introduced her to Blake. Blake was also high but now she was just at the bottom with the fat men who did not even know how to fvck to save their lives. It had once been fun, dating sexy men you could not even imagine, who were so rich they did not exist in the world, who were literally ghosts, but so far she had fallen from grace.
There were a few other girls there. Charlotte stared with envy, they were still new to this, most of the men staring at them as they talked to each other, giggling. Would they end up just like her, she did not know.
Her hand slipped on Striker’s thigh. He had not bought her anything to drink. She had dressed her best, put on her most expensive make-up for him. She could see that he was slowly losing interest and she could not go lower than striker. Her goal was for him to make her his main mistress, buy her a house and fill her up with a baby so she could get monthly allowances that would have her live the rich and plush life without working.
Her hand moved closer to Striker’s zipper, her well done nails enticing as they got near and near to his manhood, yet the man paid no mind, he just kept talking to Mendoza who was his partner in crime. The two men owned strings of high end restaurants which were a front to clean all the money they made in the underground world.
Charlotte did not dare open her mouth, these men were not the kind with humanity, they could kill her just for saying the wrong word. She had been beaten to a pulp too many times for absolutely no reason at all. One would do whatever they wanted with you. If they were angry, they would hit you until they were sated, then throw a large stake of money, leaving you unconscious on the floor. That was her life, that was her world, and she would do it over and over again because, to her the rewards were more than the cost.
Striker was not in a mood for her, she realized, so she just sat there and stared at her two friends doing the same as her. It dawned that they were literally nothing to the men, none paid attention to them and that hurt her. If only she could just coax one to just impregnate her and she would be set for life. Her friends seemed as miserable as she was, trying to get the attention of their current sponsor, but nothing.
Striker suddenly stood up from his seat, snapping her from her thoughts. She watched him stagger as if he would fall and she hoped not because the man was so large. She was sure the whole building would collapse from his fall. The man began walking, not sure if she should follow or not, but decided to follow since the man had taken all his phones. Her eyes ran to her friends. It was her saying goodbye, they would see each other back in their fancy apartment near school.
The night had passed and morning had approached. The air was cold and Charlotte hugged herself because she could not even call what she wore a dress, it barely covered even her breast. She was trying too hard and she knew it. She was getting desperate, yet what could she do?
The black tinted range rover eased on the road just before the door of the club. Striker walked to it, his driver opened his door for him while his body guard stood checking the area for any threats. It took forever for Striker to get in, but once he did, she could also slip in next to him. She was tiny compared to him and during s*x she was playing with death while lying under him, but that was a story for another day.
The door was closed, she getting comfortable in her seat with her phone back in hand. The phone was the most expensive she had ever carried. Just looking at it made her heart skip because she was obsessed with it.
“I need you to find me a girl.” The man suddenly spoke as the car moved. The man could barely talk because of his weight, he was already heaving from the words he had just spilled.
Striker turned, only to grab her jaw and nearly crush it with his gigantic hands, and all Charlotte could do was bear the pain and brace herself for the worst. The tears were already filling her eyes, yet she blinked them back, for she knew Striker hated tears, unlike Dion. Dion had liked to see her cry, it would turn him on so he would hit her until she bawled before plugging into her.
“She must be perfect, innocent, tiny and beautiful. She has to be a damn angel, do you hear me? Prepare her, she will be my gift to Vladimir.” He said before pushing Charlotte away so hard she hit the window with her head, flinging as the pain exploded.
“Do you hear me?” He asked, sending Charlotte’s body shaking. She had never seen him like that, he seemed feral and she did not like the look one bit.
“Yes.” She said back, eyes wide with her trying to process the pain all at once.
“Good, if you fail, I don’t even have to tell you what will happen. Get out of my car.” The man barked, looking away and straight ahead.
Charlotte was left perplexed about how she would get out because the car was moving, yet she did not dare question him. She swallowed, the tears rolling down her cheeks.
She swallowed, knew she had to do as told or he would throw her out of the moving car. She slid through the seat to open the door, seeing as the car drove fast with no option than to jump out, but luckily for her, this time the driver slowed down just enough that she would not injure herself much.
She had thrown herself into the wolves knowingly and now all she had to do was find a girl desperate enough who she could sell to the devil, because if all these men were demons, Vladimir was the devil who left all of them shaking in their pants.