A Dance For The Mafia Boss

I always loved dancing and I was really good at it. When I was a child, as soon as I could move, I got to dancing, or so my mother told me. It's true though, I was always fascinated by the different styles and wanted to learn each and every one of them. Yet learning to dance was the last thing on my family's list since we were so poor barely making a living and fighting each day to survive. My mother one day decided that she had enough of the miserable life we were having she packed her bags and left with another man. Leaving me with my father who never stopped blaming me for his failure and my mother's flee. Getting drunk every day, beating me like an animal, and getting all his anger out on me. And when the situation got worse he got me out of school and in the streets to work and bring him money so that he can drink and eat. I worked in every kind of job I could find, as a waitress as a cleaner a seller... whatever I could find. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and years followed behind. On my seventeenth birthday I came back home late as always I found our front door open, I got inside tried to turn the lights on but they didn't. I turned the flashlight in my phone. Everything inside looked a mess; glass shattered, the table upside down then I saw something looking closely it was a hand someone laying on the floor when I went close enough I found my unconscious father with a pool of blood underneath him. I noticed a hole in his chest, darkened by blood. Next thing I found myself reaching for my phone and calling the cops " 911, what's your emergency?" "my father is dying there's blood everywhere, I think he was shot " " Alright calm down Miss I tracked your call and the ambulance is on its way, it will be there in ten minutes just make sure...." I zoned out blocking all the words she was saying recalling everything that had happened, when I turned around to see a g*n pointed at me. My flashlights had turned off and it was dark so I couldn't see the person in front of me. "If you don't want to end up just like him you better pay what we owe him, and no cops " That was all that the voice said before I could feel him leaving. Five minutes later I could hear the sirens, paramedics and cops emerged through the front door and soon my father was taking. The police questioned me, I told them everything except for the visit of that man. I was still scared and didn't want to risk it cause I knew something bad would happen if I say a word. When we got to the hospital my father had already taken his last breath. To be frank, I didn't feel sad for him, he had always been a failure of a husband and a father. I actually laughed when I was told he died, I felt no remorse, nothing but pure joy. He won't get to beat me again, he won't a***e me, he won't take my money, when I come home I don't have to be faced with his disgusting smell anymore, He was gone and I was still here. A week after the incident I still had no surprise visits. I had nothing, so in order to live, I had to go back to the streets. It was night and I was selling some random s**t when I found myself in front of a strip club. I managed to fool the security guard to let me in since I was still just eighteen and I went inside, but to get in I had to give all the money I had. I went inside, then I saw it; the lights, the stage, the poles, the money, and most importantly; the dancers. they were fierce fearless, owning the place making people swoon at their feet. I stayed there the whole night watching until the last dance. The following morning I went to that strip club and insisted to audition, I basically threatened people to let me audition. they were hesitant and the fact that I was young didn't make it any easier. But I knew that the second they'll see me dance they'll tell me I'm in. Yes, I've always been confident with my body since I had what it takes, and my dancing, I knew it was special, and the look on their eyes when I started moving only confirmed it to me. The club manager was more than happy to welcome me and the house mom immediately started to show me around. ~~A month later ~~ I finished my dancing at around 3 a.m like every other day and went to the changing room "Good job Any, I'm gonna go, count, all that money we got " she winked "Thanks, Coco, yeah don't miss a dollar" I went to my locker to find a bouquet of flower right next to it. "That's for you someone left it," the house mom told me " I see you already making fans" I smile at her and picked the flowers. They smell really good when I opened my eyes and looked closer I saw a note inside Where's the money your father took Shocked and scared, I left the club and went straight home making sure to close everything; the doors the windows...everything.I felt a little safe and I took along a deep breath. Then my phone started ringing. It was a no ID caller, I was going to ignore it when a part of me judged that it was better not to. "$100.000, I'm giving you a week " then he hung up. $100.000? how was I supposed to get all that money in one week, and why did my father took all that money from then and for what? Even if I work day and night I won't be able to make all that money in one week. It's true that stripper money is good but not THAT good. And even if I were to ask for the money from someone, I don't know anyone, and no one will be willing to give me all that money. Unless I steal it. Yeah, how and from where, that's a stupid idea. But if I don't get the money in one week I know that I'll be facing the same fate as my father. GOD, that man even after his death I'm still not allowed to have a peaceful life, no wonder my mother left him. I hope he rots in hell.