Chapter one

Avila wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand as she slid down the stripper pole for the fifth time that night. It was exhausting! The club was packed, and she could feel the eyes of the customers on her as she danced to the beat of the music. 

She tried to ignore the lewd comments and catcalls, focusing instead on the money that was being thrown at her feet. It was the only thing that made the job bearable and worth it. It was the only thing still pushing her to grind and rock her body on the tall pole - the money.

Avila had never planned on becoming a stripper. She had dreams of becoming a businesswoman, just like her father and brother before her. But when her brother died unexpectedly, she was left with nothing. 

Her father's company had passed on to her brother, and Avila had been left with no inheritance. She had tried to make it on her own, but the bills had piled up, and she had been forced to take whatever work she could find.

That's how she ended up as a stripper at The Velvet Room, a seedy club on the outskirts of town. It was the only place that would hire her, given her lack of experience and qualifications. She had been working there for a few months now, and although she hated the job, it paid the bills.

Avila slid down the pole one last time, picking up the cash that had been thrown at her feet. She gave a curt nod to the DJ, signaling the end of her routine, and made her way backstage. She changed out of her skimpy outfit and into her street clothes, trying to ignore the lecherous stares of the other dancers.

As she sat there on that black stool in the changing room, all she could do was think about the one thing that stayed rent-free in her head. It was how she got to where she was at that point in her life. 

Avila and Stephon (her brother) grew up in a privileged household in Ontario, Canada. Their father was a successful business mogul who had built a vast empire over the years. He was a self-made man who believed in hard work, perseverance, and determination. He instilled these values in his children from an early age and encouraged them to pursue their dreams.

Avila was the eldest child and took her responsibilities seriously. She was studious, hardworking, and responsible. She excelled in school and was determined to follow in her father's footsteps. She was his favorite child, and he doted on her, which caused jealousy in her younger brother, Stephon.

Stephon, on the other hand, was the opposite of his sister. He was lazy, entitled, and impulsive. He had no interest in studying or working hard and believed that everything should be handed to him on a silver platter. 

He was envious of his sister's success and the attention she received from their father. This resentment fueled a rivalry between them, and they often clashed over the slightest of things.

Their father, being the successful businessman that he was, was constantly busy with work and had little time for his family. This absence, coupled with the rivalry between his children, took a toll on his health, and he eventually passed away suddenly, leaving behind a vast fortune and a successful business empire.

Avila and Stephon were devastated by their father's death and were unsure of how to proceed. They both knew that they wanted to take over the family business and continue their father's legacy, but they had different ideas on how to go about it. This disagreement led to a power struggle between them, which only intensified as time went on.

“Stephon will take over my business and the entire empire”, she remembered the last words of the barrister as he read the will including how he walked out of the house with no answer to her questions 

With her hands gently rubbing her forehead, her eyes trying to hold in the tears, she remembered screaming about how it was a mistake, and questioning how the lazy, irresponsible Stephon could be the one in charge of the family's empire. 

She couldn't stop remembering how Stephon shut her out and treated her as though she wasn't a part of the family. He left her feeling frustrated and isolated. That's when a tiny drop of tear fell. She slowly cleaned it with the back of her palms. 

And then, Stephon died and disappeared. Although they were not the best of siblings, she cried, wondering why life was so cruel to her.

Once a wealthy heiress, Avila had lost everything she had ever known. 

"Good job, Avila," said Misty, the club's manager, as he entered the room. "You really brought in the crowds tonight."

Avila didn't hear him because she was still lost in her thoughts. Misty walked to where she sat and placed his hand on her thighs. 

She freaked out, thinking one of the drunk men had come to molest her like they always do. 

“I'm so sorry, what did you say”?

“Are you okay dear”, Misty asked her in an unusually calm tone. 

“I'm fine, just tired. What were you saying earlier”? she said in a hushed tone. 

“I was saying well done. A lot of customers had their eyes fixated on you and more came, just to watch you”, he said, showing off his braced teeth

Misty was tall and rather thin with an assuming mustache on the top of his upper lip.

Avila forced a smile, even though she knew it was all a facade. Misty didn't care about her, or any of the other dancers. He only cared about the money they brought in.

"Thanks, Misty," said Avila, grabbing her bag and heading for the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She stepped out into the corridor, taking a deep breath and feeling the tension in her body ease slightly. She knew she had a long day ahead of her tomorrow, working as a personal assistant to the owner of a beauty spa and salon named Natasha. It was a job that paid well, but it was also demanding and stressful. 

Avila had to juggle multiple tasks and responsibilities, all while dealing with Natasha's moody temperament.

As she walked down the street, Avila felt a sudden sense of unease, as though she was being watched. She looked around, but there was no one there. She shrugged it off, chalking it up to nerves, and continued on her way. 

Avila had never been afraid of walking alone at night. She was confident and independent, and always believed in her own strength. However, as she walked down the dimly lit street, she couldn't help but feel uneasy, again. The street was filled with smokers, drunkards, prostitutes, and some men fighting. The air was thick with the smell of tobacco and alcohol, and the sound of raised voices echoed through the used alleyways.

As she walked, she noticed a group of men clustered together, their eyes following her every move. She quickened her pace, feeling their eyes sinking into her back. She felt a knot in her stomach, and her heart began to race. She looked around, hoping to find a way out of the dark and scary place, but all she saw were closed shops and empty buildings.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned around to see a man running towards her. He was big, with tattoos on his arms and a wild look in his eyes. She tried to run, but he caught up with her and grabbed her from behind. She struggled and kicked, but he was too strong. He dragged her into a nearby alleyway, and she screamed for help.

Just as she thought it was the end, a man's voice echoed through the alleyway. "Hey, leave her alone!"

The attacker turned to face the newcomer, but before he could react, the man punched him in the face. The attacker stumbled back, and Avila ran towards the stranger. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a kind face. He looked down at her and asked if she was okay. She nodded, still shaking from the attack.

"Let's get out of here," he said and took her hand. Just as they were about to run through the alleyway and onto the main street, the attacker got up and hit the newcomer on the head with a stick.

Out of fear, Avila ran, so fast, without looking back. The only time she ever did look back was when she got to her gate and turned around to listen to a female voice.

The loud voice of her landlady made her realize she wasn't alone again. Her heartbeat normalized. 

“Your rent is up, you prostitute”, the woman yelled.

Avila could feel the heaviness in her heart as she was addressed as a prostitute. She looked at the sky and blamed her father for the life she lived. 

“I have your money here with me but it is not complete yet”, she muttered shakily. 

The landlady stretched out her hand in a bid to collect the money. Avila, still shaken by what happened earlier, opened her purse and brought out squeezed Canadian dollars. 

“You have until next week to pay up or I'm throwing your things outside. I mean it”, the woman said and walked away. 

Avila stood there for what seemed like 30 seconds before gathering the strength to go inside the house. 

She didn't notice the dark sedan that had pulled up alongside her or the man who was watching her from behind the tinted windows. She just went inside and shut the doors.