A Debt With The Boss

Clara’s POV

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply into the warm breeze, mixed with the reek of alcohol. I knew it wasn't my first time strip dancing. I felt my legs heavy, already going numb. I had stripped dance multiple times and had tried to perfect all the moves, pushing myself further to practice ballet so I could be more flexible when dancing on the pole. And yet, I felt I wasn't ready for the performance tonight.

Tonight was another session where I would strip dance half-naked in front of men old enough to be my father. It was my job—a responsibility I had to abide by—or else I would face consequences that could lead to death itself.

Months back, I was deceived, betrayed, and used by my boyfriend, which later got me into this mess—to work as a stripper in order to pay back a debt I knew nothing of.

Alaric, my boyfriend, borrowed a huge sum of money from a crime boss, and now I was the repayment. If I failed to do as the boss said, I would face brutal consequences. Though I haven't seen the main boss even once, all I knew about him was that he's ruthless, heartless, inhuman—and wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in my head if I refused to work and pay off the debt.

I had no choice. I had to stick to the deal and remain a stripper until I paid off the entire debt. But it seemed impossible because the money was too large to even mention. It could take me decades before I could pay it off. I only earned a little from the stripping job I did every day, and sometimes, I wouldn't earn a dime.

"Clara, why the hell are you delaying? Your audience are waiting, and you're here lost in your thoughts again," a voice snapped, dragging me out of my reverie. It was so deep that it made me flinch.

The voice that almost jolted my mind out of reality was Derick's. He worked as a bouncer at the strip club, and I guessed it was his job to remind me of my terror—a hobby I hated doing.

"I won’t come back here to inform you again. You have to get yourself out of that foolish thought of yours and get to work, or else you know what comes after this," Derick warned. His eyes were so frightening and serious that my body trembled in fear.

"Sorry, I’ll quickly dress up and get myself on stage," I replied, then quickly put on my shirt and applied some makeup to look good. If not, I wouldn't earn money for the day. I needed to look good so I could attract more people to spray money on me—and so I’d have enough to submit for the debt repayment.

I stared at the mirror. I could see and feel my eyes welling up with tears, threatening to fall. But I had to snap out of it and look happy so my makeup wouldn’t be ruined.

I walked out of the room at the back of the stage. As I stepped on stage, I gasped. Taking a step forward, all eyes were on me. I felt nervous and scared at the same time, but I had no choice but to do the needful.

My hands gripped the pole. I took a deep breath, then exhaled. I shoved my hair to the side, then pushed my ass upward, my waist arching. My hands rolled around the pole, and my body moved with it.

My audience stared at me hungrily, and that was what I needed—that attention. I needed them to spray me with more money.

My back arched as I pushed my ass upward, my head tilting back. My hair dangled while my hands stroked gracefully in the air before touching my body. Then I moved my hands seductively to my breasts, squeezing softly, biting my lips—making it more enticing to capture my audience.

I bent over, and my hands slid from my breasts to my legs. I wiggled my hips, and my audience stared hungrily and tried to touch me. Dollars rained through the air as they were thrown onto me. I gracefully bent and picked them up, shoving them into my bra.

"Yes, that’s it—arch that ass."

"Damn, that lady is sexy as fuck."

"How much for a night?"

The men watching me protested eagerly.

I was sprayed with a lot of money, and I guessed today was one lucky day. I hadn’t gotten so much attention since I began this job. Or perhaps, was it because I wasn't applying passion when doing it?

While stripping, my eyes caught a man staring at me. His blue, predatory eyes locking onto mine were overwhelmingly frightening, and I could feel a knot twist in my stomach. He didn’t seem moved by all I was doing. All the other men wanted to touch me, but he was seated separately, sipping from a glass of alcohol. His aura was different, and there was something unique about him I couldn’t quite figure out.

"Who could he be?" I thought to myself.

Well, I cared less. All that mattered now was how I had caught a lot of attention and been sprayed with plenty of money already.

After I was done with my stripping session, I walked back to the room behind the stage.

I sat on the couch, letting out a deep sigh of relief. My hands were filled with the money I had secured from my performance, and my bra was stuffed with another set of it. I was happy—at least I earned a lot today. Maybe enough to touch a tiny part of the debt.

I began to count the money I earned for the day, and while doing that, Derick came into the room and tossed a bag in front of me.

"You know what to do. Put all the money inside," he demanded, his chest puffing and his glare deep.

"Please give me a minute to count the money so I can be sure of what I'm submitting," I pleaded, but Derick grabbed me by the neck and yanked the money out of my hands.

"There's no need to count. You know it's impossible to pay off all the debt. It’ll take you forever, so better put it at the back of your mind—you’ll work for the boss till you die," Derick scoffed, laughing coldly as he walked out the door with the bag