2• Micah.

America. New York City.

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"Why the hell would you call a redhead like me a 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 told Friday that you love her 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 mentioned still following me.

"Well." I stopped on my track glancing at him. "Her life isn't some fucking borin' fiction you know. Just continue fucking her and your relationship would go on smoothly. Cut the bullshit called, love." I said with disgust. "Can it even be the name of an animal?" I eyed him as he gave him a purse. "You know who to give the drugs to," I said in conclusion walking away.

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 I am.

"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-haired and feisty!

My father’s my manager—literally. He’s the one who brings the men who want me in their beds. I’ve been in this business since I turned twenty—ever since I got raped by his friend.

Well, you could picture a young redhead girl like me wanting to end my life at that moment and feeling useless because my virginity was stolen by my dad's friend who has had eyes on me since my seventeenth birthday.

I was well compensated with a huge ransom of money but that didn't stop me from depression.

With time, I recovered and I spent the money on myself buying clothes that my peers were jealous of and shoes and every other goddamn luxurious accessory, my mother soon came to know that her husband's friend raped me; on her way home to finding 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 of giving us the money for my mum's surgery.

I gave in to his lustful desires, and ever since then, my dad turned me into a sex-slut-for-hire for wealthy horny men.

"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 cussed remembering the man I was to have sex with tonight, he's damn old!

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.

Thanks to Adam, I don't sleep around anymore, except if it's people who bid for higher prices to have sex with me, and now I've been more into selling drugs than being a sex-slut-for-hire while Adam and I are now friends with benefits.

"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 horny.

"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.

I sat on the arm of the couch and I raised my brows at him. "Don't you think you need something to get yourself to the point of satisfaction?" I whispered trailing my fingers on his cheeks.

"Just bring what you have." The man whispered back, not interested in what I had to say, as he continued pressing the lady's buttocks against his front, seeming as if he's gonna have sex with that stripper at that moment.

"Okay." I opened my purse and brought out a sachet of powder. I stretched my hand, taking a flat plate, where I poured the sachet of powder.

I was ordered by the rest of the men to add three more, which I did, and I helped them with putting two straws on the plate.

"That will be one million bucks," I said, giving the man sitting opposite me the plate, and he took a sniff from the powder.

"Brian, settle the bills." Another man called and I smiled at the man.

"Have a nice day." I stood up and followed the Brain of a guy to receive my payment.

.

"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 knowing more about the selling of drugs?" He asked and I glanced at him.

"Hmm." I hummed.

"I'm moving to Sicily soon, and it might be your last chance to make it big 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 depart 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 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. Again! "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.