Kayla

Kayla Santino. I adjust my black coat and make my way to 'Moreno's Den', a club known for VIPs from the mafia and other famous business moguls. It's no place for the less fortunate. It's a perfect place for doing dirty because no one gives a fuck here. I majestically step into the club with slow, calculated steps, making sure to add a sway to my hips as I examine the environment. Tonight, one person will be honored to have my company. And according to my informant, he's probably already here or yet to arrive.  Today it's just him, and I have all the time in the world to wait. Travis fucking Santiago. Easing myself onto the high bar stool, I order a whiskey and keep my eyes on the entrance  not to lose my target  To think this liquid could save me, I was highly mistaken. It did nothing but give me horrendous hangovers and headaches every morning. Yet, the horrible feelings still came back doubled. I hope tonight will make me feel better. I'm here to feel better. In our world, we live by the notion of killing or being killed. It's a matter of survival to the fittest, and being my father's only daughter I am not an exception. It's a world they don't give a f*ck if you are a woman or a child provided their twisted starvation is satisfied. 6 months ago, a man named Grayson Scott, my father's rival, kidnapped me to get back at him. I mark his words, ' The best way to hurt someone is by hurting the person closer to their heart.' To my father, I am his only family, and he doesn't neglect to show how much I am closer to his heart. The man, Grayson, also an American mafia boss, wanted an alliance with my father, but he rejected his offer because the man is pure evil. He does every kind of sick shit. From trafficking women and forcing them into prostitution, also abusing them is no big deal to him. My dad didn't want that kind of business because he only specializes in guns and drugs. So the old man started stealing my dad's shipments, and when he retaliated, he got mad and kidnapped me, tortured me, and had his men abuse me, after taking my innocence himself. He did that just to hurt my dad, and I can attest he did. But he hurt me more than one can ever imagine. I was hopelessly tied to a metal chair in a wet, cold cell, crying and begging while they had their fun. It was the hardest two weeks of my life. I thought I could die, and at that time, I begged them to kill me, but they laughed at my tears instead. They kept me hungry for days; that cell was awful. It still makes my skin crawl when I think about it. It smelled of dried blood, and it was foul. Anytime I tried sleeping, they would wake me up with damn cold water. My body was buttered and weak. Did they care? No Instead, it amused them. I would watch them take photos and videos every time they abused me.  Do you know what they did with them? They sent them to my father. Sick fuckers. After they had had enough, they decided to get rid of me by selling me. Yes, they're that twisted. By good luck, I was rescued by my future husband, whom I haven't met yet. I was exhausted and passed out, so when I woke up in the hospital bed, I was told he was the one who saved me, a story for another day. I have been to therapy after therapy, but none of it worked. I spend most of my time training to keep my mind off things but to no avail. Every time I close my eyes, I see them ripping my clothes, and I hear their obnoxious laughter in my head. Fucking maniacs. I turned to sleep pills, but they make it worse because they still haunt my dreams.  I always wake up screaming with a sweaty body and severe headaches. They fucked me up. Everything just didn't work out. Fuck, I almost did drugs and contemplated suicide but my dad was always around to stop it. I fucking hate anything male, they make my body irk, and I always keep my distance. Words can't explain the trauma and depression I suffered. My father and his boys were ready to rip them apart, but I told him no. I only believe that unless I see them beg me to stop, until I hear them howl in pain, to look in my eyes and tell me sorry, until I see their tears and watch them suffer, I will never be good again. Taking them to hell one by one is the only cure I have to be sane. I want them to taste the venom they created. Only then, my life will be back to normal. Even though I will never get back what I lost. I have spent the last 3 months learning everything about them. From their families to their mistresses. I learned their schedules and every single detail of their pathetic lives. I know where their warehouses are located, their mansions, and the clubs they attend, and when they do attend. The three idiots who are much older to be my dads think they got their victory because nothing has happened to them so far. Too bad it is always calm before the storm. And today will be stormy for Travis Santiago,40 years old. 3rd in command to Grayson Scott, never married, no kids. Lives alone in a penthouse in LA. The idiot loves anything in a skirt; he has multiple sexual relations that I can't even count. Of course, he's into younger women.  My advantage because it makes him an easy target. That brings us here. To taste the sweetness of revenge. I am going to return the favor by messing them up too. Speaking of the devil, he walks in accompanied by his guards, who sadly won't save his ass tonight. I quickly fix my cleavage to make it more noticeable. The sucker will undoubtedly fall. Travis walks towards the bar, and I pretend I wasn't even aware he's here. It's finally time to test my acting skills. I take a slow sip from my glass and revel in its taste. The good thing is that I'm not a lightweight, and I cut my alcohol intake three months ago. I feel his presence beside me and his eyes on my ample cleavage.  Bingo. "Hey, beautiful," the familiar voice announces. I can tell that voice from anywhere because I spent two weeks of my life hearing it. Begging in my mind not to hear it again, but I heard it over and over anyway. "Hey, there," I respond,offering a reluctant smile. "Do you mind if I sit here?" No, I need you closer and not in front of all these people. "Not at all, help yourself," I take another sip, giving him a side glance. He motions for his guards to get away, and I secretly smirk. First mistake. The man sits on the chair next to mine, and scoots so fucking closer. He's repelling, but I give him what looks like a charming smile regardless. I had to rehearse this smile for 10 minutes before I left my house, and from the looks of it, I got it right. He slyly smiles back, and I feel like puking. " So what's a beautiful thing like you doing here alone?" Thing? Of course, they always see women as objects they can use however they want. Unfortunately for him, this 'beautiful thing' is here to make sure he arrives in hell safely. "Oh, you know, to have fun” Travis smirks victoriously, "I am here for a good time too. I hope we can help each other on that," he suggests, and I pretend to check him out, and nothing on his pathetic old body impresses me, but I smile seductively anyhow. " Not bad, at all"  Everything about his wrinkly fuck is awful. "What's your name, beautiful?" Oh! You know my name, you know both of my names, and my father's, too.  " I am Layla," I lie. He nods, staring at me as his eyes linger on my tities longer. Power of push-up bras. "What's yours?" I ask to distract his horny eyes from my body because it brings me sick memories. "Oh! it's Travis" Of course, fuckface. I knew that already. "How about we get out of here? There are rooms upstairs ?" he suggests, the corner of his lips stretching to form a wide smirk. Fucking finally. Always so easy when they think with their fucked up horny dicks. I drown the remaining liquor in my glass in one gulp, which he insists on paying for. "Ready?" I fakely chirp and he smiles, leading the way upstairs. I smirk, following him closely, blindly walking to your death because of what? a pussy?