"Maybe life isn't about
Avoiding the bruises.
Maybe it's about
Collecting the scars to prove that
We showed up for it."
-Unknown

The sudden collision as my head hits the seat in front of me quickly jerks me awake.

The soft yet hard impact jolts my eyes open as I instinctively lifted my hand to rub on my contused forehead, my other hand holding me steady.

Squinting my eyes, I glanced at Igor through the rear view mirror.
"Chto za khren * Igor!" I groaned out, still massaging the sore area.

*Chto za khren = what the fuck

Igor was furiously beating down on the steering wheel, causing a honking sound to rupture out of the car.

"I'm very sorry Miss, we're just stuck in traffic right now."
Igor called out apologetically.

I pressed a button besides me and the window rolled down. I see the rows of cars besides me. The car starts moving and flashes of blue and red come into play. Vans filled with reporters come out and start talking to big cameras shoved in their faces.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"A dead body was found in the Kamchatka last night."

The building was barricaded with tapes of caution and warnings. Curious civilians began crowding the scene, cars abandoned and the streets packed.

"Damn, I wonder who died." I remarked innocently as I watch Igor suppress a knowing smirk.

As mentioned before, the Mob has everyone on their payroll, including the police. The situation will soon be handled and everything will be forgotten. But the one thing that the Mob don't have control over are the civilians.

Bystanders will be bygones and to be honest, it is what it is. Humans are curious. It's all within nature and we can't help it when something peaks our interest.

Igor takes a back route where the roads are more secluded. A guard recognizes the vehicle and lets us through. Behind the Kamchatka is a large mansion like building. It looks dilapidated due to old age, one could mistaken it as abandoned, but it's far from it.

The stairs leading up to the building had strippers scattered around, some sitting and others standing in a middle of a conversation.

Igor parks and steps out of the car. He opens the door for me and I swing my legs and climbed out of the car.

Immediately I get catcalled, I shoot daggers in their directions before following Igor to the back of the car.

As Igor went around to open the trunk, boxes instantly came crashing down.

"Who's stupid idea was it to pack EVERYTHING into the damn car!?" I declared as I threw my hands up in the air. Looking at the toppled over boxes sent a sudden wave of unease to my head.

I really am disowned.

Fuck.

Igor looked at me with a sheepish expression before rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the mess.
"What should i do?"

"Just give them away to charity or something. I don't give a fuck." I grunted out, waving dismissively.
Fuck them. I don't need them.

"You don't need any other clothes other than that ?" Igor nodded curiously towards my attire.

Looking down, I realized I was still wearing thin leggings with a simple vest and slippers, as if I was just dragged out of bed. Which wasn't a lie.

"It's a fucking strip club." I scoffed. "If anything this is too much clothes."

Igor's ears turn red and he quickly began scavenging amongst the multitude of boxes, his body was swallowed in the back of the car as he began shoving them back in, leaving his legs to dangle shamelessly.

I clear my throat to grab his attention, he stands straight with pride as he faces me.
"If that will be all Igor then we should part ways now."

"I guess this is goodbye." Igor smiled warmly through his heavily accented words as he extends his hand towards me.

"I guess it is." I returned the treatment as I firmly gripped his hand in a solid handshake.

"Take care of yourself, Miss. Bylo priyatno sluzhit vam*." Igor nodded his head as he broke away from the handshake.

Bylo priyatno sluzhit vam = it was a pleasure to serve you

"Look after yourself Igor. And thank you for everything."
A genuine pleasure washed over me as I watch Igor place a hand above his heart as he respectfully bows his head.

A smile twitched on my lips as Igor's brown eyes looks up at me for the final time.

Glints of admiration danced in the hues of chocolate whirling around his dilated pupils, their wrinkled frame burning in my memory as I waved goodbye to my life-long associate.

Before turning around to go back to the drivers seat, he reaches inside his blazer pocket and pulls out an envelope.
"This is from Olga."

He extends his hand and I reach for the envelope. Just as I do, Igor's gloves hand wraps around mine in a final warm embrace. Different from our professional handshake which held respect and dignity, his hand now instead feels warm and genuine.
"Keep your head high and keep that spirit of yours alight. Don't let them win. Don't let them break you."

I give him a tight lipped smile and give him a single nod with sincerity. I break away from his warm hands and take the envelope.
"Look after Olga." I add as my finger follow the lines of which she wrote my name in perfect cursive.

I don't miss the vague tint of blush painted over his cheeks as he looked down bashfully to the ground.

"I'm rooting for you." I wink.

Igor's gruffly low laugh ascended behind the car as he disappears from view. The sound of the car opening and closing then the engine coming to life. He honks twice and professionally drives away.

Instantaneously, the smile in my face began to plummet as my eyes cast back to the building. I fold the letter in half and shove it inside my bra, safely tucked in as I begin walking towards it, climbing up the stairs.

The girls from earlier who were cat calling me watch sultry.

"Svezheye myaso*" A tall bimbo hums as she winks at me.
*fresh meat

I brush past her and the other girls busy in conversation, smoking cigarettes and reach for the door.

I try ignoring the blatant stares as they search me from head to toe.

"Ona nemnogo korotkovata, ne tak li?*" Another bimbo decides to add their unwanted input. I look down at her as she was crouched by the door, with her blue eyes scanning me up and down.
*She's a bit short isn't she?

My hand rests on the door handle before I look down to meet her dead blue eyes and give the fakest smile I could muster.
"Dostatochno vysokiy, chtoby otshlepat' suku*"
*Tall enough to slap a bitch

I'm not supermodel-tall like half the girls here but I am tall enough to indeed slap a bitch or two.

The girls around us start giggling, probably from shock that I could speak Russian.

"Smelyy* huh." Another one smoking a puff of cigarette to my face starts moving towards me with a huge grin.
*Feisty.

Nuh-uh. There is no way I'm going to be a victim of some mean girls trope. I'll slap a bitch and then some before a bimbo can get their claws on me.

Before I could turn around and give them a piece of my mind the door in front of me opens and a pair of arms pull me by the waist.

"Alright alright, hands off ladies. She's mine to teach." I look down to see Chanel waving her hands around, trying to form a bubble around us.

Some girls scoff whilst others muttered under their breath continuing as they were.
I look down as Chanel's small hands move to meet mine, a cigarette hanging between her middle and index finger.

"Since when did you smoke?" I scoff as she ushers me inside the building.

"Oh hi Bina nice to see you too, how was my day? Oh it's been great, how was yours?" She continues talking to herself, ignoring my question as she takes a drag and blows out a puff in front of me.

"Chanel.." I warn.

"If you haven't yet notice, all of the girls here smoke." She shrugs, skipping ahead of me. I look inside the interior of the building, it looks completely different compared to the last time I was here. The lights are on, the curtains drawn open, the large stage with the pole coming up from the middle vacant and the seats empty.

"So you have succumbed to peer pressure?" I raise my eyebrows at her petite frame.

"Don't be like that Bina, the Mistress here makes us smoke. It reduces our appetite so we can maintain our sexy figures." She starts running her hands over her sides as she spins around to look at me, biting her bottom lip and enunciating her hips to prove her point.
"Anddd it helps with anxiety just before we go on stage. Win-win."

"Great(!)" I shrug my shoulders with fake glee to which she rolls her eyes.

"Once you get your fat ass assessed and on stage you will be eating your words, just you wait." Her long manicured nails dig into her tiny waist as she looks up at me.

"Assessed?"

"Yes doll! STI checks, weight checks, flexibility checks, attitude checks.. so many checks, but don't worry, I'll guide you through them all."

"And where's this Mistress you speak of?"

And just on cue as though the devil spoken about emerges from around the corner, she circles around and meets me face on. "Eto ya. Khozyayka* Irina. You call me Mistress, ponimat**?

* That's me. Mistress ...
** understand

Her heavily accented words would of made her difficult to understand if I didn't know any Russian. But I did. So her intimidation failed as she looks down at me. She was awfully tall, her red stripper heels doing her no justice as I look up to meet her jaded green eyes. Instead I was looking up her nostrils, which surprisingly was cleared of any nose hairs.

She had long platinum blonde hair that reached her waist. It was clear they were extensions as they looked matted, her real hair dried up and sticking out unevenly. She had the palest skin which came close to looking sickly, but had no signs of any blemishes or spots. And her lips were painted bloody red, full and swollen with lip filler.

Her tall skinny frame was dressed in a tight short red dress that matched her lips and showed off her fair long legs. They showed off her breasts which also looked done but they sat well. Her red painted stiletto nails dug into her tiny waist.

If there was one word I could use to describe her, it would be sexy. She was the ideal looking woman, the epitome of every man's horny wet dreams.

"Sabina Pavlova." She begins to talk again after I finished my ogling.
"Pakhan's hidden daughter. Because of who carries da zame blood az you, I agree to house you."
English was clearly not her first language, yet she continued to speak it in her heavy accent.

"Thank you?" I questioned as she waited for me to say something, I looked besides to Chanel for help but she remained stoic and quiet.

"Rules!" She cuts me off, bringing my attention back to her.
"Number one!" She holds out a finger. "You call me Mistress always after every sentence. Ponimat?"

"Yes.. Mistress." I comply, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

"Two." She drawls out a second finger. "You dance until you can't no more." A perfectly arched eyebrow peaks as she waits again for my confirmation.

"Yes Mistress."

"Three." She rolls her R's as she speaks and rises a third finger. "You satisfy your customers. No such thing as the answer no if dey pay for you."

She looks at me again but this time I don't answer, causing her eyebrow to twitch.
"Mm, VIKTOR!?"

A tall thick bodybuilder physique man darts from around the corner from ease. He has dirty blonde hair that was buzzed too close to his scalp and pale blue eyes with a scar running across the left. He had a stubble and a crooked nose, with the scar travelling down his high rise cheek towards the edge of the corner of his top lip.
"Da Mistress."

"Take her to her room and get her changed for the day. Lessons about to start."

Authors Note
Sorry it took a while to update!!
Let me know if you guys are here from tiktok!!
-AmourSeraph