Chapter 2 Brothel Wife

Alyssa's stomach churned as the car stopped in front of an abandoned building. The neon sign creaked in the wind, reading "Midnight Delights." Naked women danced on stage, their bodies swaying to the loud music. But Alyssa saw more than met the eye.– the empty eyes, the forced smiles, the desperate attempts to escape.

"Move!" Marty growled, yanking her out of the car like an animal.

Alyssa stumbled into the office, where two men waited. The one in charge, a burly man with a scar above his left eyebrow, scanned her from head to toe.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" His voice dripped with malice. As she caressed her cheek.

Alyssa's skin crawled. She fought the urge to spit in his face.

"Give it," he barked, snatching the signed papers from her.

"Please, let me go! I was tricked! It's a misunderstanding!" Alyssa begged.

The man ignored her, his eyes glued to the contract. A sly smile spread across his face.

"You're mine now, sweetheart," he sneered. Take her away! He ordered.

Marty dragged her away, pulling her hair.

"Please save me,"Alyssa glanced at the other man, hoping for mercy. But he was engrossed in his phone, his expression unreadable. Yet, something about him seemed familiar.

"Move, bitch!" Marty yanked her hair harder.

Alyssa screamed in pain as they arrived at the dressing room. Girls bustled around, applying makeup and adjusting costumes. None spared her a glance.

"Five minutes to get ready," Marty growled, shoving her to the floor.

As he left, Alyssa noticed a girl watching her from the corner, a fleeting glimmer of empathy in her eyes.

Alyssa sat there in tears, not wanting to move. Her scalp was sore and swollen. Blood dripped from her lips all thanks to how roughly they handled her.

She wanted to stop crying, to stand up, to run or something, but she couldn't.

Alyssa felt the weight of the girls' gazes, their murmurs fueling her anxiety. She scanned the room, searching for an escape.

"Quit staring and focus on your own jobs," a firm voice commanded.

Alyssa's eyes locked onto the speaker – a girl with piercing green eyes and raven-black hair.

The girl approached Alyssa, her expression stern but her voice surprisingly gentle. "Come on, get up. We need to get you ready."

Alyssa hesitated, unsure if she could trust this stranger.

"Don't bother resisting," the girl warned, her voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Marty will be back in five minutes. And then, you won't only be a stripper, but a stripper covered in blood. You don't want that, do you?"

Alyssa saw a glimmer of kindness in Carl's eye.

"I'm not doing this," Alyssa said firmly, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

The girl's gaze turned cold. "You don't have a choice. But I can help make it easier."

Alyssa studied the girl's face, searching for hidden motives but she couldn't find any.

"By the way, my name is Carly," the girl said softly.

"I'm Alyssa," Alyssa replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Carly's expression softened. "Let's get you dressed."

Alyssa nodded, still wary.

Carly led her to a cramped dressing room, the air thick with perfume and desperation. She styled Alyssa's hair with swift, gentle strokes.

"Light makeup, just enough to hide the bruises," Carly whispered.

Alyssa's eyes met Carly's in the mirror, a silent understanding passing between them.

The dress Carly handed her was a flimsy, red thing.

"I can't wear this," Alyssa protested. She looked at the dress with disgust. It was too revealing. She has never worn such a dress before.

Carly's gaze turned stern. "You have to. For your own protection."

Alyssa's heart sank. What had she gotten herself into?

Alyssa's eyes scanned the low lit lounge, the air thick with expensive cologne and forced laughter. Well-dressed men sipped wine, exchanging hollow jokes. The girls walked in flexing their curves and giggling for no reason. Music played and they all started dancing seductively. Carly was by the pole, showing her amazing pole dancing skills.

She stood there and didn't want to join but Carly convinced her to join. Memories of secret dance sessions in her small apartment flooded back – the joy, the freedom. But this wasn't her living room; it was a brothel.

Marty's grip on her hair brought her back to reality. "Dance, bitch! These men didn't pay to stare at them," he growled, yanking her backward. Pain stabbed through her scalp causing her to cry out..

Alyssa's eyes flashed in anger. She was about to retaliate when Carly rushed to her side.

"You can do this," she whispered, guiding Alyssa to the dance floor.

At first, Alyssa's movements felt stiff, but Carl's dance was mesmerizing . She let go, losing herself in the music. Her hips swayed and her arms extended.

Just when she was feeling comfortable enough to dance freely, she stopped abruptly. The feeling of someone staring at her consumed her.

She looked around the room and her eyes fell on a piercing gaze locked onto hers – hazel eyes, icy and unyielding. The same eyes from the office, belonging to Ryan Cooper, her former employer. She suddenly recalled. He was the man she had asked him earlier for help when she was first brought here. Her former boss.

Alyssa's dance slowed, her mind reeling. Why was he here? What did he want?

Marty's rough grasp interrupted her thoughts. "Time to go," he snarled, dragging her away. Why was this man treating her like a slave?

In the hallway, Marty's brutality resurfaced. Slaps rained down on Alyssa's face until a commanding voice stopped him. The stupid girl is always distracted. What does she think this place is? How dare she stare at a VIP customer when her job is to dance? He decided to teach her a lesson she will never forget

"Stop! Ryan Cooper wants to see her," the boss intervened.

Alyssa's heart sank. What did Cooper want from her?

She followed him to the office and saw Ryan sitting idly on the chair.

"Someone roamed a bit too far from home." Ryan said when she got to where he was standing.

"Leave us Marty." Ryan commanded and Marty left immediately.

"What do you want?" Alyssa gulped.

"I think I should be the one asking the questions not you miss." He said.

"You seem uncomfortable in this new place," he added.

"I was forced to be here! I don't want anything to do with them." She explained. The man stared at her intensely, as if trying to read her mind.

"Next time, you should quit being stupid and read a contract before signing it. It'll save you alot."

"I didn't know..." Alyssa tried to speak.

"You look stupid, and annoying, begging when you literally sold yourself to them."

"I had no idea! My mom manipulated me!" She was breaking down as she explained.

"Save the sob story for someone else. I'm not interested." Ryan yawned.

"What do you want?" Alyssa asked.

"Well, I figured it'd be rude to leave my employee here to rot as a stripper." Ryan smirked.

"How did he recognize me?" Alyssa wondered.

"Oh. I know every soul that works for me," Ryan said as if reading her mind. She stared at him in surprise.

"Anyway, I'm buying you out," he said.

"Oh my god! Thank you!" She almost hugged him in joy.

"Don't celebrate already. I'm doing it for my own selfish interest and not for you." He said, making her smile disappear.

"Come," he said, leading her out of the building to where his car was parked.

His lawyer was standing there with a bunch of papers. Alyssa felt her heart drop at the sight of another set of papers.

"You have two options, to sign these and abide by the contract, or to quietly walk back and dance with the other girls." Ryan said, handing her the papers.

What does his own contract entail? She wondered.