The Underground, Spain
The leggy blond stepped out of a limo, planting her stiletto heels firmly beneath her. She looked over her mirrored shades at the neon sign, declaring to all the good times to be had inside. Striding over, hips swaying seductively, to the muscular, well-groomed bouncer, she flashed her ID. A few hundred-dollar bills slide over with it. He looked her up and down; deep purple mini-skirt and matching, low-cut top, the gold, the diamonds. Not much left to the imagination. Giving back the ID, he waved the stunning woman in.
Tossing my coat to the attendant inside, I proceeded to the bar. My target tonight is the widow of the former club owner. Lady Lessa, as she liked to be called. She was a frequent guest, making sure everything ran smoothly, taking care to sample the party favors. For quality control, I’m sure. There was something here for everyone. The Underground didn’t discriminate against any adult that sought employment. Humans, metahumans, and … other creatures. It didn’t matter, The Underground kept their clients happy.
Against my better judgment, I ordered a light alcoholic beverage and claimed a stool. I’ve never been one to bother with “recreational” drugs and have no desire to now, not even to blend in.
“You must be new here,” a low, sultry voice whispered in my ear.
The woman pressed herself into my back, reaching around to fetch a drink of her own. I turned slowly. As luck would have it, Lady Less stood before me.
“Yes. You must be Lady Lessa. I’ve heard some interesting things about you.”
“Nothing too drab, I hope,” she flashed me a wink with her long, thick lashes and took a sip from her martini. She was radiant, holding herself as a proper lady, but it was clear she’s had quite the head start on me. “I’d love to show you around,” she purred, leaning close, playing her fingers over my leg. I tried not to think of where those hand have been. I’ll need to remember to pick up some bleach and a wire scrub later. More alcohol will do until then.
She led me to a private area, thankfully not a bedroom, where she decided my lap would be the perfect chair. I took the opportunity to add a bit of knockout powder to one of her drinks. That woman could drink me under the table even with my high tolerance. I could only hope this stuff worked sooner rather than later. It wouldn’t do to black out myself. I shudder at the thought.
Endured her roaming hands, I trying to focus on the nice, bleach filled bath I would have later. I slapped her a few times, but she persisted. Much to my dismay, it seems the woman likes to play rough. Even after an hour, she was still awake. The bastard who sold me this powder cheated me. We stumbled up to Lessa’s penthouse after a time. Yes, I know, too much to drink on my end. I’ve always had a hard time resisting the alcohol. Nevertheless, my luck held and the broad finally passed out. I never met a lush with so much vitality.
Ransacking her place the best I could in my intoxicated state, I managed to hit pay dirt. Client lists for the Spain branch, listings of a few clubs build after my prison stint, complete gold. I only broke a few things in the process. I’m sure I can convince her it was during some ridiculous escapades we engaged in. Sadly, I need to stay the night to make this all convincing. At least the powder worked. I have my standards and this floozy isn’t in them.
I will have to depart early though. The lie I’m going with is a client meeting. Morning can’t come soon enough…
18 Aug 2013
What a night I had, Diary! That woman… I cannot even begin to describe how painful the experience was. Thoughts of revenge carried me.
I paid a visit to that low class drug dealing scum. Too bad about that accident he had. Poor thing, falling out the penthouse window. I doubt he will recover from such a serious case of death. He really should not have been sampling his own product. I left the body in the streets below. Why start cleaning up my messes now?
As I predicted, Lady Lessa implored me to return as her special guest. It seems she found out about my discussion with the swindler and was rather impressed by my brazen disregard of the authorities. She inquired about my work, which I informed her of my career as an assassin looking for a change. Something requiring less contract killing and more playful punishments.
It seems The Underground of Spain has a pimp shortage. Perhaps due to their mysterious disappearances. Those bodies will never be found, of course. Some of them had tantalizing bounties waiting to be collected. This plot for revenge is going to be very lucrative, I see. Already, I’ve made a killing after a single day. I may need to drag this out a bit. Or, I could keep her operations for myself. This nightclub chain has amazing profits according to the data I’ve retrieved. One can never have too much money.
Since we ended up talking business, Lessa and I did not drink heavily. She didn’t try to drag me to her bed either. Odd, yet relieving. In fact, she informed me that we could not continue with our torrid affair now that I was her employee. The woman has some strange standards. Did I mention I was relieved?
I am now training to be a pimp. I do not agree with my mentor’s heavy-handed approach to the employees, however. After I’ve learned all I can, I think we need to have a personal chat about his poor conduct. It won’t end well for him. What ever happened to class amongst villains? This man is clearly unfit to be working at such an establishment.
Employment also means having my own quarters inside the building. They are lavish. My room is on the floor with my employees. Below us are themed rooms for the clients, who cannot come onto our floor. No exceptions. The advertisements about catering to everyone’s appetites are not exaggerated. Several of my employees have already requested my help in perfecting their routines. The only duty as their boss I am reluctant to perform. It’s awkward and I don’t think I can bring myself to sharing, Diary.
I must be off anyway. I have to inspect several routines today and must order supplies. Goodnight, Diary.
