Posting another update just for you Breese ;)

Thanks guys for reviewing and liking this story already. You make me smile.

All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 3

Who was that man? My husband? Surely not. But somehow, he seemed to know me. He even called me Bella. Was that my real name? So many unresolved questions that still remained a mystery.

I woke up one day, in the middle of the hospital, knowing absolutely nothing about where I was or even who I was.

Escaping from the hospital, careful so nobody would notice,I found myself walking all day, trying to find my place, where I live, or to even remember some familiar road, or path. Something. Anything. Unfortunately, I had no such luck.

So, after hours of walking, I ducked inside this cute little place, sitting on one of the chairs, nibbling on some pretzels that were put on the table. They seemed to be a little too old, probably standing in that bowl for a while, but I was so hungry that I would have eaten anything by this point. It turned out, that, after I met the owner that this small diner was exactly just that-a small diner- by day, while by night, it would turn into a strip club. I wasn't very excited or even attracted to that kind of business, but it's not like I had that much to choose. Plus, there is no chance that someone would actually hire me on a spot without any papers, or references to offer.

After making a little tour of the diner/strip club, we stepped into his office, where he demanded I showed myself to him, doing a swirl or two, for him to see my figure. After a few minutes of talking, he decided to hire me, but just as a current bartender, telling me that I have to practice a few days or weeks depending on my 'intelligence', and just how fast I would catch things up. I was a little confused at that. What is there to learn about being a waitress?

Only a day later after I started,did I realize what his attentions and rules were of me working in place like this. First few weeks, I had a hard time coming to work every evening, seeing the ultimate business being run, the rules, and never ending cheering and whistling of drunk, horny men. But overtime, I gotten used to it all, accepting just the way my life was. Mike was more than delighted when I told him I was getting interested in stripping, just like those girls did every night, sometimes performing even more than once.

I used to watch those girls, seeing just how much they are talented, flexible, and able to turn the guests from normal, ( well, mostly normal), to those pervertedly horny, whistling bastards that they were. And trust me, there were some freaky, freaky guys that were hanging in our club almost every night. The kind of power those girls seemed to get over them- dancing, teasing them with their body, knowing that there is no way that they can get near you, or even be able to touch you gave you the greater confidence, and the simple power you had over them, to control these men- made me interested in wanting to try stripping as well. And even if they somehow expectantly do reach for you, the bodyguards would immediately throw you on your ugly , after training and learning everything that is possible to learn, thanks to Mike and my colleague girls, my first time, in spite of me being nervous, went pretty darn well. All that whistling and cheering they did for me, drooling; it all made me intoxicated. Turned me into an adrenaline junkie.

In time I seemed to only get better and better at my job. With the tips I got, I was able to get a place of my own, and hire a private detective to find out about my past. But none of them had any success in that, so, after torturing myself for years, I finally gave up, and never looked back. Until now.

Was that man really telling me the truth?

I didn't want to believe him,yet the honest, (even vulnerable) look in his eyes had me captivated, asking me to trust him.

Then he had to show me that picture.

The picture of the child that looked almost like the same replica as me. Brown eyes, slightly wavy brown hair, just like mine. The child even seemed to have the similar shape of my lips. The card which he had given me obviously was made and written for his business purposes. Very elegant,yet pricey. He was obviously rich.

I finally came home around five or six a.m. It was exhausting to work all night, but that was just another thing I had to get used to, and after removing my makeup I finally went to sleep.

XXXXXXXX

It was dark. I was walking alone, to my 'famous' job when I realized that I wasn't apparently the only one going in the same direction. I was hoping they would, in time, go the other way, but they just seem to go where ever I did. The panic started to overwhelm my body more and more by the second. I started to run, but the unfamiliar footsteps just kept doing the same. They caught me soon enough, holding me tight against some kind of a building ,so I wouldn't escape, yet in the process of that, kicking me wherever they could. From my face to my stomach. Blood was everywhere. Just then, I heard my savor approach. Yelling.

"Hey, what are you doing?! Let go of her, now!"

Startled by the noise, they quickly left me lying on the floor, running away.

The man tried to lift me up,but I just couldn't move, every bone in my body ached. He lifted my legs, carrying me up in his arms.

"Hey, are you alright?" he whispered worryingly. As soon as I heard the voice, I knew who it was.

"You again?" I asked irritable, moaning in pain.

"Shhhh, it's okay,just rest, I'll take care of you."

I wanted to get out from his embrace, maybe even slap him once or twice, and get away as far as possible from him, but I couldn't move a fucking muscle, so I did the only thing left to do. I closed my eyes,surrendering myself helplessly to him.