The VIP Trap

I drove my foot into Sienna, sending the most stunning girl in my club crashing to the floor.

She curled into a tight, trembling ball on the freezing concrete, her face drained of all color. "Tonight, you're taking the penthouse.

You belong to Charles, that sadistic Wall Street tycoon." In my underground VIP club, a young woman could rake in months of a regular paycheck just by spending a few hours with a guest.

But Sienna wouldn't see a single dime. She had to bleed for me for free, and she wasn't allowed to flinch from a single disgusting touch.

Because the key to her absolute ruin was locked tight inside my safe. One word from me. And she goes straight to hell. Chapter 1 "Toptier prey secured.

VIP channel open for a limited time." I hit send on the encrypted update through the burnafterreading dark web app at exactly 7:00 PM. The office door swung open.

Over a dozen girls spilled into the room, their laughter mingling with a chaotic, intoxicating blend of highend perfumes that instantly suffocated the air.

They were flawless—long legs, porcelain skin, and sharp, sculpted features highlighted by immaculate makeup.

Tight haute couture gowns, sexy lace slips, luxurious silk dresses… Each piece, whether dangerously sheer or provocatively cut, clung to their curves like a second skin, putting their hourglass figures on full display.

Even my eyes momentarily blurred at the sensory overload. Leading the pack was a girl in an emeraldgreen silk dress.

The dangerously high slit flashed tantalizing glimpses of her pale thighs with every step. She had wide, luminous doe eyes that perfectly matched her name. Sienna. Twenty years old.

The floor manager for these girls. And my absolute slave. After I ran through the roll call, the girls filed out toward the green room.

They'd sit there, displayed like premium commodities, waiting for the VIPs to take their pick. Sienna didn't leave.

The heavy door clicked shut behind her as she locked it, her steps slow and deliberate as she approached my desk. "On your knees." She dropped to the plush carpet without a microsecond of hesitation.

I stared down at her, my hand snapping across her face with a sharp, echoing crack. A vivid red handprint bloomed across her porcelain cheek.

Sienna tilted her head up, those wide doe eyes brimming with unshed tears. My answer was two more brutal, backtoback slaps that snapped her head to the side.

The hollow thuds didn't satisfy me.

I drove my shoe into her ribs, sending her crashing to the floor. "Charles mentioned you dodged his kiss last time." Sienna gritted her teeth, her voice a fragile, trembling whisper. "You set the rules.

You said if a client crossed the line, we had the right to—" I cut her off with two sharp kicks straight to her kidneys. The softest, most vulnerable spot on the human body.

Maximum agony, zero visible bruising. She curled into a tight, shivering ball, the color draining from her face. I scoffed. "Read the damn room.

Charles is the biggest whale in this club.

Forget kissing—if he wants to bend you over that couch, you spread your legs and take it." I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous hush. "He's on his way up.

Fix your face and get ready to serve him." Her breath hitched, her fingers digging desperately into the plush carpet. "Please… not Charles.

His hands… he doesn't stop—" I narrowed my eyes, a cold, calculated smirk tugging at my lips. "Do you need me to bring up that incident again?" It was like someone pulled the plug on her life force.

The remaining trace of warmth vanished from her skin. Violent tremors racked her frame.

She clamped her hands over her ears, her pupils dilating in pure terror. "Don't," she choked out, her lungs fighting for air. "Please.

I'll go." She scrambled off the floor and bolted for the door like a hunted animal. The corner of my mouth hooked up.

I pulled out my phone and fired off an encrypted text to Charles. "Sienna is prepping for you.

She'll be a very good girl tonight." In this sick world, beauty was the most liquid asset. A young, gorgeous girl had endless avenues to rake in fast cash.

Five hundred dollars an hour. And that was just the absolute floor at my club. Chapter 2 A private session started at a mandatory twohour minimum.

I split the take fiftyfifty with the girls. In this city, the meager paycheck of a fastfood worker could barely keep someone off the streets.

My girls pulled in half a month of that survival wage before the end credits even rolled.

People might ask who the hell drops a thousand bucks just to have a girl sit next to them in the dark. Let me tell you: the supply of these marks is endless.

My clientele consisted of middleaged men with deep pockets. Thinning hair, expanding waistlines, flesh slowly rotting toward the grave.

But their pathetic hunger for fresh, young skin never faded. Out on the street, my girls wouldn't even spit in their direction.

But inside my walls, these men could buy the illusion of possessing them for a few hours. Inside the soundproof VIP suites, the movie starts, and the lights cut out.

Heavy shadows, carefully engineered pheromone diffusers, and a flawless girl pressed right against your ribs. She plays the ultimate girlfriend.

She melts into your chest, drapes soft arms over your shoulders, and stares up at you with wide, worshipping eyes. No man survives that kind of ego stroke. The credits roll.

The lights snap back on. The girl tugs your sleeve, her eyes shining with manufactured vulnerability. "Will you come back to see me?" Hook, line, and sinker.

Grown men would stumble out, faces flushed, and drop tens of thousands on a premium membership right there at the front desk. They bought back their youth.

The clients walked away high on their own delusions, the girls got paid, and I raked in the cash. It was the perfect ecosystem. A lot of girls made serious bank under me.

They bought designer bags and signed leases on luxury highrises. Sienna was my top earner.

Clients regularly dumped six figures into their accounts without blinking, just to see her smile. But Sienna still wore cheap, tarnished jewelry.

She still lived in the rundown projects on the bad side of town. Why? Because she belonged to me. Free of charge. Sienna got zero commission.

The monthly allowance I tossed her barely covered groceries and rent. Worse, she took the overflow. The repulsive, bottomofthebarrel creeps the other girls refused to touch.

Yet, no matter how hard I ground her into the dirt, she never uttered a single complaint. She never even entertained the thought of running. Because I held the leash.

That one piece of leverage forced a young, stunning girl with a limitless future to chain herself to my club.

To beg for scraps like a loyal bitch, acting as my personal moneyprinting machine. Two hours later, Charles waddled out of the VIP suite, his massive gut leading the way.

A greasy, satisfied smirk stretched across his heavy face as he shot me a thumbsup. A few seconds later, Sienna dragged herself out of the shadows.

Angry red welts covered every inch of her exposed skin. Mascarastained tears still clung to her eyelashes.

I narrowed my eyes, shooting her a freezing glare. "Your next client is pulling up.

Get to the green room and fix yourself." I stepped into her space, my voice dropping. "And wipe that pathetic look off your face.

People will start thinking I'm actually abusing you." Chapter 3 After a quick lap around the floor, I headed back to my office and pulled up the Porsche website to customize my new sports car.

I had just closed on a luxury penthouse. The building was crawling with old money, and I needed a highend ride to look the part. Sienna was my cash cow.

With her, checking off my goals was just a matter of time. I pushed out of my chair and popped the safe. I checked the contents twice. My pulse settled.

This leverage meant Sienna was my slave for life. I would squeeze every drop of worth out of her until she withered into dust.

The heavy steel door clicked shut just as someone knocked on my office door. I pulled it open. A short guy in a lowpulled baseball cap and a medical mask slipped inside.

His voice grated like coarse sandpaper scraping over broken glass. "I want your prettiest girl." I narrowed my eyes, scanning him from head to toe. A frayed jacket.

Dusty, scuffed leather shoes. A textbook broke loser. Probably snapped, emptied his pathetic little savings account, and dragged himself here for a few hours of fake paradise.

Guys like him didn't even make my radar. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. "The toptier girls are appointment only.

You pay up front, and you come back when we have a slot." He didn't say a word. He just slammed a battered leather duffel onto my desk. The heavy thud rattled my pens.

He yanked the zipper open. A blinding flash of green flooded my vision.

He casually pulled out a thick stack of crisp hundreddollar bills and slid it across the mahogany. "I want her now." I eyed the stack. Had to be at least ten or twenty grand.

Twenty grand for two hours. It was better than highway robbery. My peripheral vision caught the bulging sides of that duffel bag. My mind was made up.

A whale like this required special treatment.

I swept the cash into my drawer and flashed a bright, plastic smile. "Consider it done, boss." After canceling the customer Sienna was supposed to receive on the encrypted private app, I shot her a text.

I told her to touch up her makeup and get to my office. We had a VIP. I poured the man a fresh cup of coffee and told him to sit tight.

He gave a stiff nod, sank into the leather sofa, and reached up. He peeled off the cap. Then the mask. The air hitched in my throat.

A cold sweat broke out across my neck, and I had to bite my tongue to swallow a scream. In all my years, I had never seen something so utterly grotesque.

His face was a dark, roiling mass of twisted scar tissue and raw, bumpy flesh. His nose was entirely gone. Just two hollow, black pits staring back at me.

Without a warning label, I wouldn't have believed a human sat in front of me. No matter how high the stack of cash went, not a single girl on my roster would take him.

The timid ones would need therapy just from making eye contact. Good thing I had Sienna. Anyone else, and this goldmine would be walking right out the door.

Right on cue, the door clicked open. Sienna stepped in. Her gaze landed on the man, and every drop of blood instantly drained from her face.

Her knuckles turned bonewhite as she crushed the hem of her dress in her fists. She locked eyes with me, her dilated pupils pleading silently. I ignored her.

I turned back to the monster on my couch, my smile firmly glued in place. "Does she meet your standards, boss?" A spark flared in his dead eyes. He nodded.

Chapter 4 I kept the plastic smile glued to my face and flagged down a waiter, gesturing for him to escort the man to the VIP suite at the very back of the hall.

The second the man disappeared around the corner, Sienna shook her head so hard her hair whipped across her face. "No. Absolutely not.

Not this time." She backed away from the hallway. "I'd rather die than let him touch me!" Stupid bitch. The curse echoed in my head.

I crossed the room, shoved the office door shut, and cranked the stereo volume until the heavy bass vibrated the floorboards.

Muscle memory had me reaching for my belt buckle, but a glance at her exposed skin made me stop. She had a highpaying client waiting. Leather left bruises.

I unlocked the bottom drawer and pulled out a tactical stun gun. I weighed the heavy plastic in my grip and flicked the switch.

A sharp, violent crack of blue electricity sparked through the air. She scrambled for the door. I lunged, twisting my fist into her hair, and slammed her to the carpet.

Her eyes blew wide in sheer panic. I jammed the buzzing prongs right into her bare thigh. Her spine arched.

Violent convulsions ripped through her body as a bloodcurdling scream tore from her throat, instantly swallowed by the pounding club music. "Dumb bitch.

You forgot who owns you?" I hit the trigger again. And again. The electricity crackled until her eyes rolled back into her head, her limbs going limp.

I crouched beside her, grabbing her chin to force her to look at me. "Still want to run your mouth? A bitch needs to know her place.

You bare your teeth at me again, and I'll end you." She gagged, coughing weakly onto the carpet.

Her voice was barely a rasp, but the defiance in her eyes was lethal. "No." I exhaled a harsh breath and checked my Rolex. Time was ticking.

Gritting my teeth, I marched back to the safe, spun the dial, and pulled out the item.

My fingers closed tightly around it as I stalked back to where she lay. "Look at this, you worthless trash." Her heavy eyelids fluttered open.

The second her gaze locked onto my hand, a guttural shriek ripped from her lungs.

She scrambled backward, the heels of her hands skidding desperately against the floor to get away from me.

I dangled it right in front of her face, high on the power coursing through my veins. God of her pathetic little universe. "Ringing any bells?

Or do you need me to refresh your memory?" She bit down on her lower lip so hard a drop of crimson spilled over her chin. She didn't even flinch.

The fierce light in her doe eyes shattered into a million dull pieces.

Her shoulders slumped, the last ounce of fight draining from her spine. "I'll go." Two hours later, the suite door clicked open.

The monster stepped out, the medical mask and cap already securely back in place. He gave me a curt nod. Said he'd be back.

My eyes briefly flicked to the heavy leather duffel still slung over his shoulder. I plastered on a wide grin and escorted him all the way to the elevator.

You don't just beat a dog; you have to toss it a bone afterward. I needed to do some damage control with Sienna. A broken workhorse doesn't print money.

But the girl who walked out of that suite totally threw me off guard. The terror and revulsion from two hours ago were completely wiped clean.

Instead, a soft, lingering smile rested on her lips. I had never seen her look like that. It wasn't the manufactured, plastic smirk she fed the Wall Street suits. This was raw.

Genuine. She gave me a light wave and strolled right past me into the green room. The manipulative apologies I had queued up completely died on my tongue.

The next night, the freak came back. Another massive stack of hundreds. The same back suite. The same girl. This time, there was zero resistance.

Sienna practically glided over to him, looping her arm through his, and personally escorted him down the hall.

When his session was over, she actually pulled me aside to ask if he was booking a slot for tomorrow. Her total 180 made my skin crawl.

Sure, her playing nice meant this whale would keep dumping duffel bags of cash on my desk, but something was incredibly off. I'd watched her perform for countless clients.

I knew exactly how she faked desire. But with this monster? Sienna wasn't acting. She meant it.

Chapter 5 But I refused to believe she could actually develop feelings for a monster that repulsive. There had to be a sickening catch. Days blurred together.

The suspicion festering in my gut grew barbed roots, clawing at the back of my mind until it drove me to the edge. Then, I caught Sienna slipping out of his suite again.

Her eyes were glazed, her cheeks flushed a heavy crimson, and a fine layer of sweat clung to her forehead. Fucking slut. The curse exploded in my skull. My control snapped.

I lunged, wrapping my hand around her throat, and slammed her hard against the corridor wall. "What exactly are you doing with him in there?" I tightened my grip just enough to feel her pulse hammering under my palm. "This is a clean operation.

Don't you dare forget the rules!" I wanted fast cash, but I never crossed the legal red line. Every girl went through strict protocol before stepping onto the floor.

Keep the clients entertained in the dark, but maintain absolute boundaries. No illegal transactions. Every VIP suite was rigged with hidden panic buttons.

If a suit tried to push his luck, the girls hit the switch, and my bouncers and I kicked the door in. Thanks to my paranoia, the club had run spotless for a year.

I didn't actually believe Sienna would sleep with that freak, but the state of her right now twisted my stomach into a tight knot. "What could I possibly do with him?

You're being paranoid." She shoved my arm away and hurried down the hall. But I caught the microexpression. When she said it, her eyes darted down and to the right.

She was lying through her teeth. Lying bitch. I drove my fist straight into the plaster wall. Skin split, and blood beaded across my knuckles. Right then, I made a choice.

And I had no idea it was the one decision that would destroy my life. The freak returned the next night like clockwork.

The medical mask, the baseball cap, and another fat stack of hundreds tossed onto my desk. This time, I probed him. "How's the girl, boss?

Everything up to your standards?" I expected a smug nod. Instead, the guy froze. He forced a stiff, raspy, "She's fine," but I saw it.

A raw, naked flash of terror bleeding through those hollow eyes.

The second he and Sienna disappeared into the suite, I crept down the hall and pressed my ear flat against the heavy door. Dead silence at first.

Like two statues sitting in the dark. Then, the noise started. It was a faint, wet, sickening sound. Completely unnatural.

I couldn't even process what the hell could make a noise like that. I held my breath, straining to isolate the sound.

Suddenly, the explosive bass of the movie intro blasted through the walls, making me flinch so hard I nearly bashed my head against the doorframe.

The heavy surround sound swallowed everything else. I pushed off the door and stalked straight back to my office.

I shoved the door shut, twisted the deadbolt, and dropped into my desk chair. I stood up. Sat back down. Paced the floor. Dropped back into the chair.

My pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The truth was, I kept one massive secret off the books. Every single VIP suite was rigged with hidden cameras.

I dropped serious cash on militarygrade lenses. They were perfectly flush inside the smoke detectors. No regular client would ever spot them.

Chapter 6 But I'd never once touched those cameras. The single most valuable asset of my club was the absolute privacy.

Soundproof rooms, movie scores loud enough to swallow a scream, and shadows deep enough to hide a soul—nothing offered a better sense of security than that.

In those rooms, men could finally let their inner demons off the leash. If my clients ever found out I was recording them, the stream of cash would dry up overnight.

The powerful ones? They'd probably have my head on a platter before the sun came up. So, I'd never even entertained the thought of flipping the switch.

But Sienna and that freak… they were like two venomous insects burrowing into my brain, stinging my curiosity until I couldn't eat or sleep.

I had to know what was happening behind that door. I sat down at my desk, my jaw set. I opened a hidden folder and booted up the encrypted software.

My hand shook as I scrolled to the back suite and clicked the live feed. The second the image flickered to life, a jolt of pure adrenaline shot through me.

I let out a jagged cry and scrambled back, my chair nearly flipping as I lurched away from the screen.

On the monitor, Sienna's eyes were bloodshot, her face twisted into a demonic mask of rage