I wasn't in the mood for any negotiation. It's either this brat talking to me over the phone, takes it or leaves it. Handling business with an iron fist is very important. These guys can play you and your money will go down the drain. Your hard earned money. "Two million dollars is all I'm offering. Are you in or not?" I gave my offer. "But, Boss…," he stuttered. "But what?! What else do you want? Two million dollars is a whole lot and I'm not going to increase it," I snapped. I felt the air shift before my eyes dropped on a paper on the floor. "Boss…Two million dollars is not enough for this. Estimated price is about fifty million dollars," he explained but my mind was already made up. My mind is like a rock. It is difficult for anything to just penetrate through it. Even if he was standing in front of me, crying his eyes out, I won't increase the money. "Are you taking this money or not? Do not waste my time," I asked again. This time, with

"How?" I exclaimed wide-eyed as I watched Amara walk into the training room looking better than ever. I had been watching Gio train through a hidden monitor. I really needed to know more about him and I didn't think he would tell me so spying on him was my only option. The allergies looked really deadly and I didn't think she was going to recover even in a week, but here she was. She walked to the table to pick out boxing gloves and then walked straight to the dummy with a cold death stare plastered across her face. That look reminded me of Alita so much, she was always strong-willed and determined, I didn't think she was going to die. "Maybe I put too much pressure on her," I thought to myself because she looked ready to kill someone. She started to punch the dummy with so much aggressiveness which made me laugh.Although she was putting in so much effort on her part, she still had a long way to go. Amara was a little bit better than before but she was still ve

AMARA'S POV I never thought I would get used to the Black Room. It could easily pass as my worst nightmare. The dimly lit room, was almost as good as being in darkness, which freaked me out. Maybe it was the awareness that I was with someone that made it easier for me, I really couldn't tell. The room had just two furnitures. A small couch where the client could sit while watching me strip on the pole at the corner and a bed to perform his, or perhaps her misdeeds. The dim light was barely enough to see oneself talk more of the client. This was my second shift today and I was starting to love the fact that I couldn't see my client's faces. Most would probably be old men looking for young girls and I could bet my left pinky they would be repulsive as hell. Nobody would be motivated to dance if they had to see such faces everyday before their performances. Unlike my last creep customer, he seem different and I hope I don't see him again. I was currently in i

I wouldn't describe the morning as a pleasant one because it actually wasn't. My body ached in all places but I managed to get out of bed. I wore a striped jacket across my short leather gown and walked out of Luciano's room before he could come in. The morning breeze blew my hair backward and I regretted not packing my hair into a bun. I bumped into Luciano outside and he held my hand when I was about to walk past him. "I'm sorry," I apologized for no reason and he tightened his grip around my fragile wrist. His face was straight and devoid of every form of a smile. "You should go back and rest," Luciano said to me and I struggled to free my hand from him. I wasted a lot of energy as my efforts became futile. "I don't want to go back, I'm there. I have things to do," I refused and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. "I do not want to be hard on you, Amara. You should go in there and rest," he responded, almost yelling at me. He said my

Slipping my legs into my silver heels, I was preparing my mind for running on the treadmill. I couldn't feel any spark of excitement within me neither was I nervous. I could vividly remember the warning in Luciano's speech. He sounded worried but he fought hard to tame it. I noticed either way. He was acting all over protective about me getting orders from the same man. Most of the time, he acts like he doesn't care about me. But, I could feel it somewhere within me that he is just trying to hide it. "You are nothing but a commodity!" his hoarse voice resounded in my ear drums and I held my ears tightly. That voice kept coming over and over again. No matter how hard I tried to keep me away. I became pissed. Sometimes, I wonder if he is always in his right senses. Even though loving me is out of context, sometimes your use of words should not be triggering. I'm a human for God's sake. Not a commodity! I would love to see the look on his face when I rev