Dark Rose.

A black Audi pulls up by the side walk and a gentleman bounds out of the car, looking sharp in his dark tailored suit and sunglasses. The chilly night air tugged at his hair and he dragged his hand through it.

He looked up at the building he was about to enter. "Meow Meow" was highlighted with fluorescent light on the tall ash-painted building. 

"Well, this must be my lucky day." He muttered to himself and strutted into the building.

When he did, all eyes fell on him, but he ignored them. None of them was worthy of his audience. Not even the pole dancers in their various enticing outfits suited his taste. He had one goal and that goal was to pick bones with Jonathan Maryland. After making considerations about how he would run the place down before midnight, Drystan decided to order a drink and enjoy the show before embarking on his Hail-Mary mission. 

"Dry Martini. Make it neat." He told the waiter who had approached him with a notepad and a pen.

"Anything else, sir?" The boy who asked was not younger than 18. It was none of Drystan's business to ask, but he knew how working at clubs were and how dirty they made you look. The waiter in question looked fresh out of high school and is probably wet behind the ears on how to survive on the streets.

He pulled out his wallet and gave the boy a nice big tip. "Get me some cigars, will you?"

The boy's eyes widened at the sight of heavy bucks. "Gee, thanks, man." 

Drystan waved him off and away he went. A few seconds later, the kid returned with his drink and cigars. 

Drystan who had sat alone in the VIP lounge reached out for the glass and took a sip. The gin left a burning taste in his throat when he swallowed, and he liked it. That was not the only thing he liked that night. A cat-lady was dancing seductively on the pole. It was not just her sexy moves that compelled Drystan's undivided attention, it was the way she stood out from the rest. Her charcoal dark skin glowed in a bright red cat outfit she was wearing, a contrasting feature that made her look dangerously attractive. 

Drystan felt heat pool in his groin and he finished the drink, taking a cigar in his hand while watching the dancer. She went on as though she was dancing only for him, and he didn't mind. He only had eyes for her. 

He was impressed with her smooth, liquid movements. It was as though she was born to be a pole dancer. He knew she wanted him to look at her, and he gave her his undivided attention. 

"Eh, like what you see?" A short, fat man dressed in a pin striped suit, walked in with 2 ladies.

"Do you mind?" Drystan glared at him, and he moved out of the way.

"Excuse me, ladies. Give daddy 5 minutes and I'll join you soon." He gave each of them a kiss on the lip, biding them a wave as they left. 

He sat on the couch and followed Drystan's gaze. "Ah. My most prized possession." 

"Who is she?" Drystan asked, still not taking his eyes off the cat lady. 

"She's Dark Rose. A very talented dancer who just joined us last month. This place would've gone under if she hadn't arrived. She literally pulls all the customers here. See? Not only you but everyone here is staring at her." The old man pointed at the gentlemen seated in their seats. All of them ogled at the cat-lady. Some ran their tongue over their lips, others couldn't help but throw their money on her. 

This infuriated Drystan. Dark Rose only had eyes for him and that was that. He swore to claim her from every eye and hand. Speaking of hands, an old timer wanted to go touch

Dark Rose when Drystan caught his hand and twisted it behind his back. "Back off!" 

The man pulled away with a grunt. "What's your deal, man? She's not yours."

"Who decided that?" Drystan quirted up an eyebrow.

"Get the hell out of my way, pretty boy. You don't want your face to get smashed in, do ya?" The man was relentless in his attempts to touch Dark Rose but Drystan would not have it.

He pulled out his gun: a .33 mm Glock. "You mind if we speak another language? I'm down for it if you are."

The man was startled and reeled back a step. "Hey, there's no need to get violent."

Drystan chuckled and put the gun back where it belonged: in the back of his trouser. "Yeah, thought so."

The man returned to his seat, sulking.

"What the hell was that? That man's one of my highest paying customers. He comes here with his rich friends to watch Dark Rose perform," Drystan's partner came up beside him. 

"If he leaves and never returns, how do you expect me to pay you what I owe?" 

Drystan smiled. "You'll find a way, Jonathan. You always do." He reached out his hands and Dark Rose took it, climbing down the pole and dancing around him.

He shoved her on the bed. "Take your clothes off. Now." 

Dark Rose chuckled. "Easy there, tiger. Be gentle with me."

"I don't do gentle. Hurry up." Drystan's voice came out with a deep growl. 

"Fine but I have to shower first." She sat up on the bed but Drystan pinned her down with her hands above her head.

"I'm a man with little patience. We do this here and now." He nuzzled his face against her neck, inhaling her sweet perfumed scent.

Drystan lifted Rose in his arms, covering his lips with hers, devouring her, and she had no choice but to let him. 

Drystan threw an enormous bundle of dollars on the bed, and it startled Dark Rose from sleep.

"That's your pay." He turned around to wear his shoes.

Dark Rose chuckled. "So no good morning? Or thank you for pounding your brains out?"

Drystan smiled. She was quite the bold one. "Consider the money as a token or whatever it is you want it to be."

"Why, thank you." Dark Rose took the money and watched Drystan leave the room without another word.

The valet handed him his car key, and he climbed into the driver's seat. Drystan is about to start the car when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He answered it, putting on his AirPods. "Yeah?" 

The voice on the receiving end of the line was meek and feminine. "Sir, we just received word that Jonathan is in bed with the FBI."

"I knew it." Drystan chuckled lightly. 

"Do we have the order to take him out?" The woman asked.

"No. I'll do it myself." Drystan replied, throwing the AirPods off his ear and speeding into the distance. 

Anne Marie's 2002 resounded in the large penthouse. Jonathan was dressed and ready to have breakfast when he heard fists banging against the door.

"Is this how you people behave in here? I paid for this place you know?" He hissed and walked to the door.

When he threw it open, he felt a cold gun in his mouth and was shoved inside the room.

His cries were muffled but he kept pleading.

"Oh shut up. You're putting your saliva all over my gun." Drystan took the gun from the man's mouth and grabbed him by the back of his hair.

"Drystan, what's going on?" Jonathan asked terrified.

"What's going on? How about you tell me? Someone whispered about you rolling with the cops. You mind telling me about that?" Drystan pulled the man's hair harder, and he screamed in pain.

"Talk !" Drystan barked.

"Okay. Okay." Jonathan sniffles. "I didn't go to them. They came to me. They said they wanted info, man. I swear I told them nothing, but they showed me things, man. Things that will put me in jail for life and I can't go to jail when my wife and kids are in Mexico."

Drystan asked with indifference. He took some cigars out of his pocket and lit it up. "So?"

Jonathan went on. "So they forced me to sign a deal with them. They forced me, Drystan. You've gotta believe me. I'd never sell you out."

"I don't buy that. What did you tell them?" Drystan asked again, smoke spurted out of his nose and nostrils as he spoke. 

"Nothing." Jonathan replied, tears streaming down his face. 

"Fine." Drystan let go off him. "It's funny how ungrateful you are, John. I let your debt pile up sky-high and get I never once queried you for it, but how do you repay me? You go to the Dang cops!"

"I swear, man. I told them nothing." Jonathan pleaded. This time on his knees and with his hands clasped together. 

"Well, news flash. I suspected all along and I never trusted you to begin with." Drystan pointed the gun to Jonathan's forehead. 

"Please, man. I'm begging you. Don't do this." Jonathan cried, his voice weak and trembling. 

"You should've just come clean about this, man. Now, someone else will raise your sons and daughter." Drystan fired the trigger till he was satisfied.

He felt blood smear his cheek and wiped it with his handkerchief. "What a waste."