Cause Trouble
687 Words
If it were the old me, I would have slapped him across the face without a second thought.
Making money in a place like this is definitely not easy.
The people around the fat man started to jeer, "Take it off! I want to see what a naked little swan looks like."
"Not a naked little swan, a stripping little swan."
"Isn't stripping the same as being naked?"
The crowd burst into laughter again.
Amidst the laughter and noise, I was pushed in front of the fat man.
He swirled the wine glass in his hand, making no effort to hide the desire in his eyes, and grinned at me, "You have two choices: either dance a striptease for ten thousand dollars, or come with me and name your price." For a pretty girl, making money might be this easy.
My palms were burning hot, as if the fire in my stomach had spread to my hands.
"No, thank you," I shouted, barely able to hear my own voice over the noisy crowd. "President Turner, thanks for the offer, but I have something to do. I need to go."
As soon as I moved my foot, he suddenly yanked me down beside him, and his greasy lips came toward me.
In that split second, I didn't think much.
Desperately trying to fend him off to no avail, I grabbed a wine bottle from the table and smashed it hard against the fat man.
With a loud crash, the fat man let out a strange cry and released me, clutching his head.
Immediately, the women around us started screaming, "He's bleeding! Murder!"
I dropped the bottle of liquor from my hand, staring in panic at the fat man.
Blood dripped slowly from between his fingers. He gritted his teeth and pointed at me, "Don't... don't let her get away..."
Several men twisted my arms behind my back and pressed me down onto the coffee table. The shiny glass surface reflected the fat man's ferocious face.
"Feisty little girl, huh? Today, I'm going to see what a wild swan tastes like. Get her to the car!"
They dragged me towards the door as I struggled and screamed, but it was no use.
In the chaos, I glanced up at the second floor.
Orlando Bennett was still there, in the same position, only now holding a glass of wine instead of a cigarette.
He must have seen everything that just happened. I looked at him, pleading for help.
But even as I was dragged out of the club's door, Orlando Bennett's expression remained unchanged, indifferent.
I should never have hoped for anything from him.
The fat man sneered behind me, "If you want to make money, don't act so high and mighty. You can't be a w***e and expect to be treated like a saint."
It hit me like a bucket of cold water.
Maybe that's exactly how Orlando Bennett sees me.
For some reason, I suddenly cared about what Orlando Bennett thought of me.
Why should I care?
To him, I'm just a paid bedmate.
To me, he was the kind of patron who could spend money like water.
I was dragged and pulled out of the club, with Josephine trailing behind, crying and pleading on my behalf, "She just started today, she doesn't know the rules yet."
The car door was yanked open, and the burly man behind me unceremoniously kicked me inside.
My plan had failed before it even began. The $2,000 I had just earned might be lost along with my dignity. I had only my hot temper to blame.
Just as the fat man climbed into the car, his greasy face inching closer to mine, a hand reached in and yanked him out.
The fat man landed flat on his face, furiously shouting, "Who is it? Who dares to do this?"
I poked my head out of the car to see who my savior was.
A man with long hair covering his eyes stood there. A scar ran from his left eye down to his chin.
I recognized him. He was Yosef, Orlando Bennett's bodyguard.
- Writer
