Page 5 of Straightened Out

My expression stills as I transfer the gun from my left hand to my right hand.

“What Russian cocksucker?” I sneer.

“I think his name is Yankovich,” he supplies. “He’s putting me out of business, that’s why I went to your uncle for the money in the first place.”

Hmm…interesting.

“Does my uncle know about this other club?”

“I don’t know.”

I’m veering off track. This Yankovich guy isn’t my concern, the only thing I care about is the barely clothed girl freaking out in my car right now.

Keeping the gun cocked, I tip my chin.

“And what does Violet have to do with any of this?”

“Your uncle started bringing the heat on me, so I went to Flora and told her I needed the money back.”

I take it back, he’s not clueless, he’s a fucking moron. A moron with a death wish.

“Do you have any idea who her son is?”

He blinks and quickly shakes his head.

“No, she doesn’t talk about her son.”

Of course not, because she’s ashamed of Joaquin’s choices. If she knew he was funding Violet’s education, she’d likely demand her daughter drop out of the Academy because she considers every dollar her son earns as blood money. She ain’t wrong. It’s also probably why she didn’t go to him for a hand-out when her restaurant went down the tubes. However, none of that explains why Violet is mixed up in any of this bullshit.

“Two weeks ago the daughter got wind of my exchange with Flora and came here. She gave me five hundred dollars and offered to dance here until the debt was settled. She’s the best girl I got now.”

Not a surprise.

Judging by tonight’s performance alone, Bug was born to dance.

She was also blessed with an incredible body—one she won’t be sharing with these motherfuckers anymore.

“That’s a shame, seeing as she no longer works for you,” I say, stepping toward him. “And as of today, Flora Cabrera, doesn’t owe you a fucking dollar, do you understand me?”

His face pails.

“What? You’re talking about twenty thousand dollars! That’s not chump change. I’m…how am I going to come up with Vic’s money? You just sent my highest earner out the door.”

Again, wrong answer, motherfucker.

“You should’ve done your homework, Mitch,” I chastise. “But don’t worry, I’m gonna teach you a nice little lesson.”

Chapter 2

Violet Cabrera

Iwant to die right now. Fucking die. Okay, so maybe I’m being a tad bit dramatic, but I don’t think I’ve never been so humiliated in my life and that’s saying a lot considering the first night I danced at Delilah’s Den, I took the stage with tears in my eyes. I wouldn’t let them fall while I was performing, though. I forced myself to focus on why I was on that stage in the first place and ignored the crowd of men cheering for me to take my clothes off. To them I was just a pair of tits and a girl with a great ass, a pretty thing their limp dicks could get hard looking at and fantasize about later on. They didn’t know my story. They didn’t know I took the stage imagining I was performing at Lincoln Center or that I spent ten hours a day studying at the New York Academy of Ballet. And they certainly didn’t care that the only reason I danced night after night at that sleazy club was because I felt obligated to help my mother.

They didn’t care but the man who saw me tonight did.

That man—that incredibly handsome man knows my story and he knows my dreams.

He knows I’m destined for so much more. That one day my name will appear on marquis all over the world and I’ll be a star.

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