Tell Me I'm Different (Finished!)

Epilogue

The man pulled out a white silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his Prada tuxedo. He opened it dramatically with his index finger before wiping his shining silver gun for fingerprints. He knew if he was caught with this piece of evidence, a lot of people he didn’t want could find him. And that would surely mean the death of him.

He ran a hand through his thick black hair as he stared at the girls dancing on stage. Girls of every color, age, and size. They were his collection. They were beautiful.

The man stared at the newly built club. This was his sixth club. He was so proud of himself and he knew Elvis would be proud of him too.

He leaned back in his custom made throne and waited for the thin waitress to come back with his vodka tonic.

He loathed waiting.

The man distracted himself by staring at the tall blonde dancer he had just purchased from Brazil. He bought her and all her sisters. He might as well be a fucking charity worker, he thought to himself.

With a wave of his gold and silver ring covered hand, he called her over. At first she pretended she didn’t see, but the man stared at her with a look that could weaken the strongest armies.

It was the very look of death in his dark brown eyes.

She froze. Fear suffocated her every pore. Her light blue eyes opened so wide, it seemed to pop out of her head.

The man laughed a hardy laugh. He gained some sort of sick pleasure in scaring these girls. But it didn’t matter because they were his girls.

“Por favor, no,” she began, trying to yank her arms from the two burly men that brought her closer to the man.

He grinned showing off his perfectly white teeth.

The men brought her right before him. The dancer stared at him with fear deeply rooted in her eyes.

He ran his hand up her long, tan legs until he reached the border of her frilly pink underwear.

Marina gasped in horror as his hand slid into them. Tears poured onto her quivering face as his hand maneuvered around her private parts. She could hear the cheers and laughter of men all around them as they watched what was going on. The dancers continued dancing on stage like nothing had happened because they knew if they stepped in, the punishment would be far worse than what was happening to her.

He was worse than all the stories of him she had heard at home. Worse than any person she knew.

The man with the black eyes pulled his hand out of her underwear and leaned back with a satisfied grin on his smug face.

He lit a fat cigar and stuffed it into his mouth.

He waved his hands sideways and just like that, Marina felt her world fall apart.

Her body went limp into the arms of the guards as they carried her to his private room. Her life, her virginity, it meant nothing over here. He could do absolutely anything he wanted to her and no one would blink an eye.

She felt herself being thrown onto the soft silk of an expensive comforter. She sprang up immediately as the guards opened the door. Marina ran to the large wooden door, but just as she tried to run out, the man with the dark eyes pushed his way in.

Marina backed away from him like he was poisonous.

His signature smirk sent chills down her spine.

“No me toques, que sucia oig,” she warned, her voice quavered with every syllable.

“What did you call me, you little slut?!” he threatened angrily. His voice turned into a low growl as he pushed Marina backwards.