Chapter 008: Those who refuse to bow.

Kira’s POV

His scream was muffled as I swiftly silenced him by shoving my purse into his gaping mouth, cutting off any further protests.

"Now listen," I commanded, my voice brooking no argument, "you'll take me to the acting owner of the club. I have a message for him: the wife of the late Don Jones has returned to reclaim her rightful ownership of this club."

He nodded in reluctant agreement, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and compliance as I released him from the grasp of my purse. With a pat on his back, I offered a rare word of mockery praise.

"You're a strong young man,"

We traversed the dimly lit passage until we reached the imposing door of the office. The bouncer, eager to announce my arrival, stepped forward, but I wasted no time in pushing the door open myself, determined to confront the man inside.

"How dare you…" His words were cut short as I caught him in the act of stashing money back into a drawer beneath the desk.

"Well, hello to you too," I greeted with a disarming smile as I settled into the chair opposite him.

With a deep frown etched on his face, he rose abruptly, directing his ire towards the bouncer. "How could you let her in? I told you I didn’t want visitors!" he bellowed, his anger palpable. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics.

"Mister..." I glanced at the tag on the desk before continuing, "...Benson, sit down. We need to talk," I asserted, my tone brooking no argument.

"About what?" he demanded, his scowl deepening, rendering him even less appealing than he already was.

"About your resignation letter," I replied, a hint of mischief dancing in my eyes.

"What resignation letter? I never submitted one," he protested vehemently.

"Are you sure?" I teased, reaching into my purse. Retrieving a white envelope, I passed it to him. He snatched it eagerly, tearing it open to read its contents. His brows furrowed as he scanned the letter before tearing it to shreds in frustration.

"I didn't write that!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with indignation.

"Oh, Mr. Benson," I chided gently, suppressing a giggle, "that was the only graceful exit available to you. And now you've torn it to bits. How will you explain to your former employees that you got fired now?"

"Fired?! Who wants to fire me?" he sneered, his arrogance momentarily resurfacing. "You?" he challenged, fixing me with a defiant glare.

I nodded meekly before rising to my full height, meeting his gaze head-on. "Yes," I affirmed, my voice steady, "I am the one.”

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he demanded, his voice rising with anger.

"I'm Kira Jones, successor of the late Don Jones. Any more questions?" I retorted, my tone laced with defiance.

"Oh, fuck that," he spat, his words dripping with contempt. "I know who you are. I saw you at the burial ceremony of Boss Jones, but we all know your real role. You were nothing but his personal slut. Since when did you start using his name as your own?"

"Ouch, Benson, that stings... a little," I murmured, feigning hurt.

"It should," he shot back, his eyes blazing with animosity. He turned to the bouncer, his tone commanding. "Throw her out, and I might consider not firing you."

"Throw me out of my own territory? How bold of you, Benson," I scoffed, a smile playing on my lips.

"Ma'am, maybe you should leave," the bouncer suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. I couldn't help but burst into laughter at his timidity.

"Do you know who should leave?" I asked, ignoring his plea as I approached Benson. Running a hand provocatively down his chest, I leaned in close. "It's you," I whispered, relishing the shock on his face.

"You're insane," he muttered, a hint of amusement coloring his voice.

"I know," I whispered back before swiftly delivering a knee to his groin.

"Arghh!" he cried out in pain, his face contorted with agony as he crumpled to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him unceremoniously out of the office.

"Since you refuse to resign or be fired quietly, I'll help you make some noise," I declared, my voice dripping with malice.

The bouncer trailed behind us, torn between allegiance to the female boss or the so-called male boss, unsure of where his loyalties truly lay.

We got out of the passage, but I didn’t stop there, instead, I pulled him to the stage as I asked the D.J. to turn off the music. He quickly did and handed me a mic when I asked for one. The entire club had gone quiet, the strippers were standing there staring at me, and so were the customers who happened to be more ladies than men.

“There will be a change of leadership from now on,” I began with a smirk dancing on my lips.

Benson struggled to get up and I finally allowed the weakling to stand to his feet before saying,

“Mr. Benson here has resigned. It’s a painful thing but life goes---“

“I did not resign!” he foolishly insisted and I mentally face palmed. And here I was helping his ass out. Fine then!

“My bad, Mr. Benson didn’t resign, I fired him!” the people gasped and I nodded pitifully.

“I’m your new boss now. Where are my manners? Let me introduce myself, the name is Kira Jones, the successor of the Late Don Jones.”

Everyone paused to look at me carefully and I can’t blame them at all.

“You all say something! she can’t be your boss! She’s just a woman!” Benson yelled in frustration.

“Just a woman, huh?” I asked with a smirk before turning to the crowd,

“Ladies…” I called but they didn’t respond, “Now, help me ask this man in front of us when women became a ‘just’? Don’t ladies have a part to play in leadership? Why should we be looked down on and be called, ‘just’?”

This caused whispers from every angle including the men around, when I saw that I was getting their favor, I began,

“Mr. Benson here hasn’t been doing a good job as the acting owner of this club. Not only does he steal the money earned here in the club, but he also allows some ladies in without payment so he can have his way with them later on. He has fired some strippers just so he could collect their salary and he is rejecting all the boys coming for auditions so he doesn’t get to pay them!” the gasp echoed all over the club

“That’s not true. That is a lie!” he yelled and I turned to him,

“Really?” I asked him and didn’t wait for his response before turning to the strippers who had come down from the stage for me to take over,

“How many of you are receiving the pay you desire to receive monthly? How much do you get paid? Trust me, Benson here slashes your pay and spends your money on women”

The crowd went haywire and I turned to Benson, he was staring at me in disbelief. Bringing out another envelope from my purse, I handed it over to him,

“Now, you’re officially fired. Good luck finding another job” He stared at me in shock as I said to the other bouncers around, “Please escort Mr. Benson out, and if he doesn’t comply, use force”

Turn back to the crowd, I gave them a wide smile,

"Ladies...!" I exclaimed into the microphone, relishing in the chorus of cheers that erupted from the crowd.

"Yayyyy!" Their enthusiastic response filled the air, fueling my satisfaction.

"Enjoy!" I declared, returning the microphone back to the DJ as I made my exit from the stage.

Stepping out of the club, I found Benson still loitering outside, his anger evident on his face.

"That was all lies!" he screamed, his voice dripping with fury. "Those accusations were all fabricated!"

I continued on my path towards my car, accompanied by the bouncer who had faithfully followed me from the office.

"That's what happens when you refuse to cooperate, Benson," I remarked casually. "You could have simply resigned peacefully, but you chose to resist. I am trouble, Benson, and no one can defeat me."

With a dramatic flourish, I watched as Benson crumpled to the ground, mumbling, “I'm ruined”

Not giving a care, I turned to the bouncer, I met his gaze, acknowledging his disbelief. Yes, I had fabricated the accusations against Benson. The only certainty was his embezzlement. But who cares, in love and war, fairness is a luxury one cannot afford and that… that was war.

"What's your name?" I inquired, addressing the bouncer directly.

"Frank," he responded, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Frank, clean my office," I ordered briskly, before slipping into my Hummer and driving away.

This was just the beginning, anyone who wouldn't bow will be forced to bow.