Mr billionaire’s little stripper

ADRIANA'S POV:

Was there a better way to describe how picturesque the night life at West Sussex was?

I doubted anyone could describe the route better than I did.

Right from the edge of the city where Alexander the club where I had worked my ass off over the last couple of months stood to the bus station where I took my one way ticket home, right from that point to the high cost Estate at the West lane.

I could describe every bit of it with my eyes closed.

It was funny that I lived at all in that part of town and could be thought rich by everyone else but the fact remains that immediately I walked through that Alleyway that leads to a house not so called home, I was back to the reason I had to work to earn a living.

Immediately I stopped at the house with a white front door and a golden knocker; one with marble flooring and a beautiful staircase with a lacquer shine and a sparkling chandelier as if leading up to heaven that was where my evening began to crumble.

My life was that way, a beautiful wallpaper hiding the dirty scars behind my wall. One would wonder what happens if the paper gets pulled back a bit …how ugly would the scars on it be?

The fact remains that scars were the beauty of life at times as it sometimes held memories. Take for example If this world was as transparent as glass how expressive would it be.

I stood in front of the hall leading out of the club again, wondering and deep in thought about the event of the day as music blasted away in the corner of the room that was heavy with the scent of alcohol and the promises of endless sinful lust and sex.

I could hardly breathe through the heavy cigar smoke, being a stripper at a club like Alexander came with a lot of props, but of course it meant I had to dance for men old enough to be my father all naked in only lingerie and in doing so, get touched and groped in inappropriate places.

It however doesn't change my value of life or my perception of it and as a matter of fact, each time I thought about the reason behind doing all this, it left behind only a pain the anxiety pills tucked into the back of my bag could cure.

This was one of those nights, I popped two pills in my mouth and chewed while I waited for the manager to come with the day's pay.

I was twenty years old, unsupported and a stripper. It was usually funny saying this and keeping up with my fake ID as I lived with my mother in a luxurious home.

Luxury was the only thing it offered but not the comfort, and as a matter of fact, I could give anything to have that comfort ever since my father’s death and my mother was forced to remarry.

At first I had thought her getting married to one of her rich suitors was the end of everything but it had really taught me about this saying of life that all that glitters was not gold

I tried processing the voices, hoping I could hear the sound of my Boss coming down the path where I was but as time went by and I took a glance at my watch, I was starting to think this was one of those nights I would have to go home without pay.

I licked my teeth in regret and was about cussing when I heard his normal catch phrase "fuck you bitch." Passed his lips, the word resounded in my mind. My throat tightened as I adjusted my bag till it was properly sitting on my shoulder.

While my mind drifted in the direction of his voice I felt my life was built on piles of the dirty money I was making from stripping.

I’d always been able to say I hadn’t contributed to the balance of creating immorality in nature as I was adding a flaw to the already stained system.

He walked close to where I was. He was almost the only person that spoke to me appropriately at Alexander and I had come to respect him.

"Sorry for taking your time." He apologized before passing the note to me after counting with extras of course.

I counted with him and didn't need counting again as I was aware of the prying devilish eyes around.

I tucked it into my bag and just as I was about to walk out my eyes caught a shining card sitting on the floor close to the leather sofa.

"Now what do we have here?" I asked myself to pick up the card.

"Massimo…" I tried reading out the name before taking a good look around and tossing it into my bag of valuables as well.

I was not born a thief, no one was but the thing about circumstances was that it made you into anything it wanted.

A murderer. A whore. A surrogate. A thief… I had no way of explaining it but it felt like the normal course of life.

I walked slowly out of the club talking the not so long walk to the bus station.

All those while I was waiting for the owner of the credit card to run toward my direction asking for it and giving me a few slaps while I tried to explain but I got nothing, no one came till I was sitting in that long drive back to a place not so home.

The bus was filled with people either half drunk or like I was half asleep.

I thought about my mother's failing health and how happy I would be if a miracle could pop out of the thin air.

I thought about the credit card in my bag, I was tempted to bring it out to check if it was still there but didn't because of the fear of who might be looking.

Who the hell was Massimo Grey?