Devil Woman

Chapter 1

The floors were carpeted with stains all over, and it wasn't even three hundred square feet. There wasn't a bar here since Hanson, our manager, thought people wouldn't pay for it. What sucks is that this place could be something more. It had potential; it had the space.

If only Hanson wasn't a complete fucking tool, he could really get this place renovated, and it would make working conditions better. But other than him being a douche, he was a cheap bastard too. There was a man sitting on the sofa, a man I hadn't seen around before, and he looked unamused.

He had a glass cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He looked like he was in his late fifties and was tailored in a dark blue suit that screamed expensive and posh. He looked out of place, like he didn't belong, and it had me questioning if I was even in the right room.

He lifted his eyes to me and took a sip of his drink, and patted the spot next to him. I walked over to him and sat down as he asked. He had a wedding ring on, gold, not silver, but it wasn't uncommon for married men to be here. In some perverse way, they were even more aggressive and revolting than the unmarried men.

"What is your name?" His voice was firm and resilient.

I was confused about why he wasn't groping me or trying to get me to dance. No man ever came to this club, requested a private room just so they could talk to you. No man was that chivalrous.

"Fairy." I gave him my stage name.

Most girls made up their stage names or went by the color of their hair or another distinctive marker. I had fairy wings tattooed on my back. The tattoo wasn't detailed and an overtly huge one that took up my entire back, but very simple and sexy.

I had them propositioned right underneath my shoulders so that when I danced, it looked like the wings were moving and flapping. So, instead of choosing the nickname angel, I decided on Fairy.

He chuckled, and it sounded like pebbles shaking in a jar. "Your real name."

He turned his head slightly to face me, and I was met with dark brown eyes. He exhaled the smoke and leaned his hand over to drop the butt of the cigarette on the ground. He crushed it with his shoe but kept his eyes on me.

I smiled politely, hoping that this conversation wouldn't turn for the worst. Men hated no, and more than anything, men loved power and control. Hanson wouldn't defend me if I were to scream out for help, and over the years, I'd stopped screaming.

Either I could handle it, or I'd force myself to. I'd learn over the years that no one helped anyone. Nothing in this world came easy and free, and even though it was a particularly hard lesson to learn, it stuck with me.

"I'm sorry, I don't give that away."

"How about we make a deal?" He suggested randomly, and I gave him a dubious look. "You simply give me your name, and I'll grant you a wish."

My brows furrowed as I studied his face. He looked serious. Genuinely serious.

"A wish?" I speculated.

"Yes. One wish."

"Just for my name?"

He downed his drink and played with the cup in his hand. "Yes."

"How do I know this doesn't have any strings attached or that you're not bluffing? I don't even know you. I've never seen you here before."

"I'm old. I don't have much patience for these types of institutions. I'm here passing by this town on business. My men have worked hard and tiring, and I've given them the weekend off, you see." He started, and I listened intently.

"We were supposed to be leaving Monday morning, but it's late, and evidently, I'm still here. I'm a punctual man, and nothing usually keeps me off my schedule. My men told me a story earlier today. They say that a particularly odd woman in a pink wig with glitter all over her face was beaten yesterday for trying to protect a fellow dancer.

I didn't think much of it, and my men usually never report such stories and gossip to me. I'm a fair man. I believe in right and wrong. Do you?"

I stiffened at the memory he recalled. It was one of our newest recruits. I doubted she was eighteen, and we've all given her advice, but the girl was stubborn to want to make it on her own.

Two drunken men had drugged her and tried to rape her in the booth and would have been successful if I hadn't knocked one out with an ashtray. Hanson intervened and slapped me hard, and I closed my eyes briefly at the memory of the stinging and swelling of my cheek.

I had covered it up incredulously with makeup, but his words had me feeling like it was on display.

"What's your point?"

"Your wish, my dear, what is it?" He repeated his question.

"To be immortal, but I doubt you can grant that to me."

"You have a look in your eyes. It's like fire and murder." He observed intently and then stood up. "It reminds me of myself when I was young. Sadly, a youth potion does not exist, or else I would have gotten my hands on it already, but I can grant you the next best thing."

"Which is?" I inquired.

"Power." I stood up, and he reached and pulled out folded pieces of paper. "These are the ownership paperwork for this strip club. It's a contract that I'm signing the rights all over to you. I need your name, so I can transfer it all to you."

I was stunned as he handed me the papers. It was true. It was the ownership papers to this bar, and Hanson had signed it all over to him. What the hell? Was this man joking? How in the hell did he get the paperwork?

Hanson didn't even tell us he was selling. That fucker. He probably sold it for any price, he was a cheap bastard. I couldn't stop staring at the evidence clearly in my hand that he was truly giving it all to me.

It was one strip club, one that, if fallen in the right hands, could soar and rocket high with sales and profit. I was smart, despite my not having a college degree, and I knew that this opportunity was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Nothing would ever happen like this to me ever again.

"You're giving it to me.... just like that?"

"Yes. You don't owe me a single thing. It's yours. You'll never see me again."

"My name is Nyra. Nyra Carter."

He pulled out a pen from his side pocket, and I handed him the papers back. I saw him scribble my name over the lines and then sign them himself. I signed them as well, and then he was handing them back to me.

"Good luck, Ms. Carter. You're smart, and I know with this, you'll be one step closer to power. I believe in you, and I wish you nothing but the best." He extended his hand to me, and I shook it.

"Thank you," I said, but it felt useless to thank this stranger for what he did to me.

For what he did, no thank you would ever be sufficient. This man was giving me the key to power, and I'd use it to my full advantage. I wouldn't let it go to waste.

"If I can give you one piece of advice, it's this; don't trust anyone."

"I already don't."

"Good. Be safe. Take care."

With that, he turned his back and walked out of the booth. He left me to stand there with the deed to the club in my hands and a powerful feeling surging through my veins.

A/N: Hello my loves! I hope you enjoy the slight introduction to Nyra Carter. I hope you love her just as I have. Happy Reading. Also would love to hear your thoughts, dont be shy. Comment anything, I love to see it