NOT a Fairytale

Chapter 1: Back story

So before I met Roman, I was 27, and had just moved to a state and city I had refused for years. However, at 21 I was divorced from an abusive husband. When I was 23 my best friend of 11 years and husband of 6 months died on his way home. When I was 27, my husband of a month was killed in the line of duty. I took his life insurance, paid off debts, bought a small house on the outskirts of LA, and a one way plane ticket. I got a job shortly after moving there as a burlesque dancer/waitress, but I was told the big boss had to approve me as a stripper. The dancers were inbetween shows of strippers.

I had been working for about six months, and I finally had my audition as a stripper. I completed my pole dance routine I had been working on. However, it came to my least favorite thing, lap dances.

Since my 3rd husband's death, I don't want to be touched. I hate people's touch. I have broken a guy's hand at the supermarket cause I had dropped some money and he set his hand on my shoulder to get my attention. While at work I have a cheery disposition, flirtatious. Yet, as soon as I walk into the dressing room, or leave work, I go back to being cold. I have shut off all my emotions. I don't want anyone to get close to me.

My family was hurt by my decision to move away. Some understood it, but my mom took it really hard. She kept telling me "Diamond, you need your family close. We love you and will help you get through this." But after six months of being smothered, and her finally trying to tell me to find someone else. I left.

The man who I was going to be giving a lap dance to had a wedding ring on. I had on my knee high leather stiletto boot, fishnet tights, black lace underwear, with a black lace bra. I had a butterfly knife tucked in my right boot. I always kept it there at work, cause 1. You never know when you will need a knife, 2. Always have a way to protect yourself. Yes, butterfly knifes are illegal, but it's simple, easy, and doesn't look like a knife. I had my hair slicked up into a ponytail, with a hair piece on to make it longer. I had my blue contacts in. I like disguising myself at work.

The lap dance was fine, until he said the extra private lap dance was next. I felt a knot in my stomach. I knew what that meant.

He walked in front of me, and his two guards behind me. He told his two guards to go away, and make sure no one came in to disturb us. This made me smile. I told him that I only had two rules. No kissing, and no touching.

"Honey, let me tell you how this going to work. If you want to become one of the strippers, you are going to have to sleep with me. Do whatever I say, and sleep with me whenever I want." This sicko thought I would just submit, because I wanted to make more money. I had another thing coming for him.

"Okay, but I want to use these." I held up a pair of cuffs. Looking ever so flirty, with a cocky grin on my face. He happily agreed, and let me cuff him to the bed. I undid his pants, and took them off. Along with his underwear.

I climbed on top of him, his underwear in hand. I shoved them in his mouth.

"Now listen, if you manage to get those underwear out of your mouth, I will gut you like a pig, if you scream." I pulled my butterfly knife out, and flipped it open over my fingers.

"I'm sure your wife wouldn't be happy to find out you are sleeping with strippers, would she?" He just stares and death stare at me. I knicked his upper thigh with my knife. "Answer me!" He wags his head no.

"Would your boss by happy knowing you are exploiting his employees?" He just stares again. I knicked his manhood this time. He wagged his head no again. This time he had tears streaming down his face.

I continued to knick his thighs and manhood. Until he had about 15 nicks total. I dug through his pants and found his phone. I snap a picture of him. I send the picture and a message to his wife.

"Thought you should know, your husband is blackmailing the strippers at Gold Key to get laid. I did a number on his junk." Then I sent the picture to his boss. With a different message.

"Your man here tried blackmailing me into sleeping with him so I could be a stripper at Gold Key. I don't take kindly to being blackmailed."

I put the keys to the cuffs on his chest, and left the room. I went to go throw on my clothes, and leave. I figured who would keep someone who tortures people, right? I threw on my jean shorts, my t-shirt, and stuffed my boots with my throwing knives. Took off my hairpiece off, and my contacts out. I threw on my cloak that I always wore to and from work, and went to leave.

As I walked out of the dressing room, I noticed it was still empty, except more guards, and this tall man with medium brown slicked back hair, broad shouldered man in an expensive suit talking to the bartender/manager Tom.

I had gotten to know Tom fairly well, he knew I had no patience, didn't like being touched, but had no issues with it. Tom was a laid back guy, his kids were grown and his wife passed away, but he was always still chipper.

When I saw the man in a suit, it was definitely time to leave, cause it meant the big big boss was here. I saw two guards standing by the front door, and as I walked passed them I heard Tom say.

"That's her." All I could think to myself was "Shit! I'm about to go to jail, get my ass beat, or be killed." I quickly weighed my exit strategies, and decided that I needed to pick off whoever came at me, and then run.

I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. I threw my arm out from under my cloak, turned around, and grabbing the man's jaw with one hand and his upper arm with my other. I used one leg to sweep him on his feet and pushed him backwards with my upper body. He landed on his back with a loud thump. I came down on top of him, and had two other guards pointing guns at me.

I stood up with my hands coming up, but had pulled my two throwing knives out of my boots. I threw them both at the same time, and hit the guards in the hand with their guns. I turned to run, but ran into a firm chest.

I looked up from under my cloak hood, only to see the most mesmerizing emerald green eyes staring at me. They had a playful look in them, like he was laughing. Even in my four inch heels my head came to his chin. This guy had to be 6'4. He looked to be in his late 20s or early 30s. He was tan, with long thick eyelashes. His nose was large, but suited his large size. He looked like a Greek God, or a model. It was the man in the suit.

"Shit!" I mumbled under my breath.

"Mia Cara, you have managed to take down 4 of my guys already, and you only stop with me?" He asked laughing.

I took my cloak hood off, and he reached up to touch my face. Immediately my hand blocked his attempt while my other went to his throat and pinned him to the door, that was behind him. All the guards drew their weapons.

"Do not touch me. People who touch me end up hurt!" I growled at him. Then let him go.

His eyes weren't laughing anymore. They were cold, like mine. Devoid of emotion, except fury.

I heard Tom in the background, laughing "Sir, I told you not to touch her." He was still just polishing glasses, while chuckling to himself.