Niccolo Fierri

"Damn it!" I toss the pile of bills onto my little round coffee table. If mom and dad would just let me have my inheritance, none of this would be happening. But no, they were far too selfish for that.

Knowing my parents, this was probably their way of trying to control me. They want me to come back home and beg them for money, but I won't. I refuse to be pulled back under them.

They won't give me my inheritance, because instead of becoming doctors like them and my sister Gabriella, I dropped out of my first semester of college to pursue my dreams of becoming a dancer.

My older sister was the golden child. She was the one who went to college, became a doctor, and continued the family legacy by marrying another doctor.

I tried. I really did. But I hate blood and I especially hate needles. There was just no point in making my life miserable just to please them. What would I gain from that besides depression.

When I told them I wanted to be a dancer and own my own studio they laughed in my face. They told me it wasn't a real job, and that if I wanted my inheritance then I was going to have to do what they wanted, which will never happen. So they can keep that shitty money all they want, because I won't be asking them for money ever.

I'm twenty-six years old now and have yet to achieve my dreams. but I know it's just around the corner. And when I do reach my goal, it will be my turn to laugh in their face.

Standing up, I begin pacing back and forth. I run my hands through my auburn curls, releasing a frustrated sigh. Three days is all I have to come up with the rent for this month. Three! And I got fired last week for telling a man to shove a hot dog up his ass.

It wasn't my fault he wanted a gluten free tofu dog at a movie theater, and got upset because we didn't have one. I feel as though I had every right to say what I said after he so rudely threw his popcorn bucket at me.

I haven't told my parents, and probably never will. I've been working my ass off trying to prove to them that I didn't need their little money to get by. I could become successful all on my own.

There's a knock at my door, pulling me away from my thoughts. I knew who it was right away. Jumping with joy, I rush over to open the door. "Gabby!" I sling my arms around my sister, pulling her into a tight embrace. She just got back from her honeymoon and promised me she would stop by.

She knows what mom and dad are doing to me as she herself experienced it. She didn't want to become a doctor either, but they bullied her into doing what they wanted. They insulted her and said she wouldn't amount to anything if she didn't do what they said.

That's why she's always telling me she regrets not standing up for herself. That she regrets not following her own dreams, and instead, allowing herself to be manipulated and controlled by our parents.

"Hey hermana(sis)!" She hugs be back tightly, before closing the door behind her and pulling me to the couch. She notices the bills right away. "Autumn," she says in that motherly tone of hers.

She picks up the stacks of bills and flips through them. I roll my eyes when she stops on the envelope with "eviction notice" stamped in bold red letters.

Gabby knows I won't ask her for money either. It just isn't me. Being the daughter of Doctor's Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs has taught me that I can't rely on anyone else for anything, especially with my problems.

I learned how to depend on myself at a young age, so you won't see me begging anyone no matter how difficult things get. "What are you going to do?" She asks, concern filled in her dark brown eyes.

"I don't know," I say with a sigh, sitting down on the armrest of my dark gray suede couch. "Continue pulling my hair out until I'm on the street I guess." I chuckle, but stop when Gabby doesn't join in.

"Autumn that's not funny. You know you can live with me and Zayne until you get back on your feet."

That's when I really start to laugh. Throwing my head back, I burst into a fit of laughter as if I just heard the best joke of my life. Living with my sister and her husband was the absolute last thing I wanted to do.

I shake my head and stand back up. "I'd rather become a stripper," I say jokingly. Gabby's glaring at me, not finding anything I'm saying remotely amusing.

She never knows when to take a joke. None of my family do. Sometimes I wonder if I'm adopted. Their lack of humor is disgusting.

I head back over to the front door, opening it with an eye roll. Gabby makes her way towards me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You're coming to dinner with mom and dad still, right?"

"Do I really have a choice?" Gabby gives me a small smile. That means no. Hugging me once

more, she gets in her car. I watch as she rolls down the window and waves goodbye.

I respond with a wave as she pulls off down the road. Once she's no longer in sight, I close and lock my door. At first I was just joking about becoming a stripper, but it just might have been the best damn idea I've ever had.

It was insane, but it might work. It's a great way to make quick cash. And I was desperate. Sitting at the kitchen counter, I flip open my laptop and type in "strip clubs near me."

As soon as I click enter, three different locations pop up. I immediately eliminate the one thirty minutes away and look at the other two. Scrolling through reviews and pictures, I end up choosing a nightclub called Fallen.

I click on the link to the website and skim over the information. It's a nightclub owned by four brothers known as the Fierri's.

The name sounds strangely familiar, but I'm not sure where I heard it from. I don't even bother reading the rest, because "All money earned is yours to keep" is printed in bold black letters.

They have all kinds of workers from DJs and waiters to bartenders and strippers. What's more amazing is that even though they get paid, the tips they make is theirs to keep. This family must be rich as hell to agree to something that crazy.

Pulling my phone out from my back pocket, I hurriedly dial the number from the screen. This is perfect. Not only will I be making enough money to pay rent this weekend and the next, but I get to do what I love. Pressing the phone to my ear, I wait as it rings.

Someone picks up on the third ring. It's a woman's voice. "Hello! Residence of the Fierri Nightclub. What can I do for you?"

The woman's voice is soothing, which brings me at ease for even going this far in this crazy ass idea. If my sister knew I was doing this she would kill me. That is if my parents don't get to me first.

"Hello. My name is Autumn Jacobs and I was wondering if you're still hiring?"

"Let me check." The sound of her typing away at her keyboard fills my ears. I start to contemplate whether I should hang up or not.

My heart is racing as she finally stops typing and replies, "The only position currently available are for the Fallen Angel dancers."

This has got to be fate.

"Yes, that's fine."

"Great! Will tomorrow night at 8 o'clock work for you?"

My eyes widen with shock. Did I just get hired on the spot? I nod. Realizing she can't actually see me, I respond. "That works for me." We say our goodbyes and the woman hangs up.

I'm panting uncontrollably as I set my phone down on the counter. I've done some crazy ass things in my lifetime, but this was by far the craziest thing I have ever done.

What the hell did I just get myself into?

****

I suck in a deep breath and ring the door bell. I'm clutching a cheap bottle of red wine I picked up at a gas station on my way over here. I even slapped a little red bow on it to make it look more presentable.

Mom is the one to open the door. She stops smiling, her painted red lips curving down into a frown. I roll my eyes, shove the bottle of wine into her hands, and brush past her. I can feel

her eyes staring at me with a gasp of disbelief.

I know her look of shock has nothing to do with how rude I just was, but the very very short dress I'm wearing. It's a skin tight body-con two piece with thin straps and minimal cover.

The lace corset dress clings to my curves as I'm practically naked under this dress. Had it not been for the matching bra and panties set, I would have flashed my family.

I join dad, Gabby and her husband at the table with a smile. Gabby and dad have the same shocked look on their face as mom does. Zayne doesn't doesn't look my way. And I admit it makes me smile. "So what's for dinner?" I say, clasping my hands together.

Mom finally sits down at the table, still eyeing as she would say, "inappropriate for a lady" dress. I want her to say something about it. I dare her to.

Because as soon as she does, that will be my excuse to leave this waste of a dinner. They're always trying to portray this loving, happy family when it was anything but that.

Being apart of this family is hell. Mom and dad act like dad isn't still pretending to go on his business trips so he can go fuck his secretary.

Mom knows he's cheating and yet she stays because if they divorce, then she stands to lose this lavish lifestyle.

Whatever would she do without brunch on Sundays with her boring rich friends? And don't even get me started on dad.

He can't live without golfing with his cheating ass friends. Both of them are toxic as hell. They fight, argue, throw glass everywhere, then make up by having old people sex.

Their toxic lifestyle is all I've ever known. I don't know what a healthy relationship looks like because my parents never had that.

It's not like I can look at the newlyweds to paint a picture of a happy, loving family. Maybe it's why I'm attracted to toxic men. The more toxic the better.

Mom's chef, who I secretly think she's fucking, brings out a tray of steak, broccoli, and loaded potatoes. I think the only good thing out of family dinner is the food.

I got to give it to the chef. The man can cook. I see why Mom enjoys his company so much. You can get the best of both worlds. Chocolate covered strawberries while being railed from behind. What a dream!

The Chef sets the tray of food down in the center of the table, sharing a glance with Mom before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Go Mom!

After making myself a plate, I grab my fork and dig in. Everything instantly melts in my mouth. If I ever find "the one," he has to know how to cook. The only way to my heart is through my stomach. Do this, and I'm yours forever.

Shoving a forkful of broccoli into my mouth, I decide to initiate the conversation. The awkward silence and tension is so thick, you can practically see it in the air.

"How was your Florida business trip, dad?"

Mom glares at me. She knew exactly what I was trying to do. There was no denying that I enjoy stirring the pot just a bit. It makes things interesting.

Mom turns her attention to dad, waiting for his response. Dad almost chokes on a piece of steak. He starts coughing, his face turning tomato red as he pours himself a glass of wine and

takes a sip. He sets the glass down, sucking in a deep breath before exhaling.

"It was fine."

Gabby is looking at me as if to say, "don't do it." Bringing my fork up to my lips, I bite down on a piece of steak and swallow.

"Interesting."

Gabby's still pleading with her eyes. This family was already messed up anyway. I don't see what was wrong in adding a little fuel to the fire.

"How about you honey?" Mom asks, looking at me. "Anything interesting going on?"

I reach across the table and grab the bottle of wine. Tossing my head back, I chug down the rest of the wine and slam the bottle down on the table. "I'm glad you asked Mom," I say sarcastically with a cheeky smile.

"Let's see." I hold up five fingers and count down. "One: I'm broke because my parents are assholes. Two: I recently got fired. Three: I'm getting evicted because I can't pay my bills. Four: my parents are still selfish assholes." I pretend like I'm thinking then say with a wide smile, "Oh and how could I forget... I'm going to be a stripper."

I was going to wait to tell them, but decided what better time than at family dinner. The look on their faces is priceless. So I take out my phone and snap a picture. Mom starts nagging like usual. "You ungrateful little bitch!"

Well damn.

What happened to honey?

"Little? Oh, so what does that make you? A big bitch?" I stand to my feet.

"We have done everything for you!" Mom whines, tears of anger streaming down her face. What have they done for me? What have they done except flaunt their money in my face, while I, their daughter, faces being homeless? What have they done except ignore me? I simply laugh in her face the same way she had when I told her my dreams.

She didn't deserve my sympathy, nor did Dad. For my entire childhood they have neglected and insulted me. In the eighteen years I have lived here, they have never once said that they even loved me.

In fact, not one nice thing has ever come out of their mouth. Don't think I forgot all the missed soccer games, graduation ceremonies, and excuses as to why I can't have friends over.

I turn to leave, but dad grabs my arm, holding me back. "Sit. Down. Autumn," he says firmly.

I scoff. He's never once tried being an actual father to me. This whole family is a lie. "No. I'm not going to sit here and continue with this bullshit facade."

I jerk my hand away, flipping my parents off. I don't even look at my sister and her husband. Walking out of the dining room, I make sure to slam the door obnoxiously loud on my way out the door.

Hopping into my baby pink BMW, I slam on the gas pedal and drive off. I knew coming to this dinner would be a waste of time. This family is a waste of time and a joke.

They made my life miserable. A living hell. And because I'm such an "ungrateful little bitch" they might as well meet Karma. I mean Karma's a bitch, right?

I needed to get drunk. More drunk than I already was. So instead of going back to my apartment, I decided to stop by the club I'm going to be working at.

I've heard about this nightclub. It's a very popular spot here in New York. I don't know why I haven't checked it out already, especially since I love a good alcoholic beverage and dancing.

The line is so long that it stretches almost two blocks. Thankfully, the line moved pretty quickly, so it didn't take long before I was next in line.

The tall, bulky bouncer they have stationed at the entrance is dressed in a tight black shirt. He looks down at me with a look that would probably send a shock wave of fear through everyone else. But not me. I wasn't the type to scare easy.

He doesn't say anything as he nods, allowing me entrance. Thanking him with a smile, I walk inside. I look behind me, noticing that he's blocked off the entrance.

I can't help but grin at the angry people outside as they send death glares my way. I guess the club had reached its full capacity.

Turning back around, I take in my surroundings. There's laser lights, a DJ, and a smoke machine. The place is jam packed as people grind, make-out, and laugh with one another. My eyes zero in on the bar and the handsome man tending it.

It's been two weeks since I had some fun. Well, actually I take that back. He was hot, but the man was a bore, and failed to make me come.

It took him less than three strokes before he was calling out his mother's name and profusely sweating all over my body.

Just thinking about it makes me one want to jump off a cliff and into shark infested waters.

Walking over to the bar, I make myself comfortable by sitting down on the stool and leaning in real close to the bartender. I stare into his blue eyes, biting my lip seductively.

He smiles, trying to hide the blush that warms his cheeks. I hold up two fingers as I maintain eye contact. "Two shots of Tequila please," I say, my eyes raking over his name tag. "Ethan."

He nods, reaching behind the counter before setting two shot glasses down in front of me. "Anything for the beautiful lady."

He turns around grabbing the unopened bottle of Tequila on the top shelf before facing me and pouring it into the glass.

I pretend to be impressed by clapping my hands and giving him a small smile. I was a pro mixologist for three years, so I know a newbie when I see one.

Downing the two shots in seconds, I push the empty glasses towards him and motion for him to lean in with my index finger. I was horny and already starting to feel the buzz.

He leans in, my lips brushing his ear. "Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes." I point to the women's bathroom before stepping down from the stool and walking away. I can feel his eyes on my ass as I make my way towards the bathroom.

Oh how I just love the power I hold. These men are nothing but dogs in need of some attention. All you have to do is tease them with a treat, pet their head while praising them, and they come running.

Walking into the bathroom, I check under each stall to make sure it's empty. Once the coast is clear, I reach behind me and unzip my dress.

Slipping out of the tight garment, I pick up the dress and place it on the sink counter. This bathroom was nice and surprisingly really clean, but this dress was way to damn expensive to just be leaving it on the floor.

The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing fills my ears. I whip around, my lips curving up into a grin when I see Ethan, the bartender, walk in.

He locks the door behind him, stepping towards me with a matching grin on his face as his eyes scan over my body in approval.

He snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me to his chest. His lips come crashing down onto mine. The kiss is sloppy and eager.

It's not as aggressive as I would have liked it, but it was enough. Reaching down to unzip his pants, I wrap my fingers around his cock and pull it out.

Caught off guard, he breaks our kiss and glances down. "Impressive." I hadn't expected him to be this big. "Your cock is so pretty," I coo.

His face flushes red. "T-thank you."

I can tell that I'm making him nervous, which brings a smile to my face. Reaching up to plant a gentle kiss on his jawline, I begin stroking the length of his cock. "Did you bring a condom?" I ask.

"No, sorry."

How irresponsible. Why are all the handsome men so damn stupid?

I fight back the urge to roll my eyes. "It's fine." I use my free hand to reach down into the bosom of my bra and pull out a condom.

His cock is hot as it twitches in my hand. He releases a grunt, followed by a very low moan.

Tearing the packet open with my teeth, I spit the foil onto the sink counter. I stop stroking right before he can reach his release.

His grunts have intensified, his face beet red. I simply smile, roll the latex onto his cock, and turn around.

Placing my hands on the sink counter, I shove my panties to the side and stare into the mirror.

Avoiding the reflection of a little girl who's been neglected, rejected, and utterly broken down by her parents so many times, I focus my attention on the hot bartender.

He grips my ass, positioning himself between my thighs. When I feel him enter me, I let out a surprised gasp. I can feel him deep inside me.

It's been a damn long time since I've had someone this big. I just hope he knows to use it, because the last guy sure as hell didn't know.

His thrusts start out soft, so I push my ass back onto his cock to hint that I want him to go harder. When he doesn't catch the memo, I simply say, "harder damn it."

I was way too damn horny for his stroke game to be this weak. I needed my back blown out. I wanted to walk out of here with scoliosis.

He picks up his pace, but it's just not enough for me. I roll my eyes, growing frustrated by the minute. I feel like I'm being humped by a fucking rabbit in heat.

"This isn't going to work." I stop him by grabbing his cock and pulling him out of me. My eyes widen when I feel him shudder and come into the condom.

You have got to be fucking kidding me!

I pull my hand away, trying my best to hide my annoyance. The men always get what they want. I still have yet to experience a glorious, explosive, and earth shattering orgasm.

I straighten up and grab my dress off the counter. I then grab a Kleenex and wipe between my thighs, before shoving the tissue into the pocket of his pants.

Quickly slipping on the dress, I adjust myself and run a hand through my hair. He looks down at his pocket with confusion. "That's a little souvenir for you to remember me by," I tell him.

"So you came?" He asks, his face lighting up with hope.

I smile, reach up to cup his cheek, and plant a quick peck on his lips. Pulling back, I give his face a gentle slap. "Aw, bebé(baby)."

His face drops into a saddened frown. "The tissue is just to remind you that that big, pretty cock of yours was a waste of time." There was not a damn drop of anything in that tissue. It was as dry as I was.

On my way out the door, I stick my hand under the sanitizer dispenser and wave goodbye.

What a waste of time.

Niccolo's POV

I've been watching her all night. Ever since she stepped foot in my club I have not been able to keep my eyes off her. I have two women on my lap begging me to fuck them, but I've lost interest.

My mind is elsewhere. All my attention is on her. Her in that tight little dress, teasing me with every painfully long stride she takes.

Her long auburn curls cascade down the curve of her back, the urge to pull it while fucking her from behind filling my mind.

I watched her flirt with the bartender, disappear into the women's bathroom with him and come back out minutes later.

It wasn't hard to infer what they had been doing in the bathroom of my club. I don't know why, but I really wanted to put a bullet in his head.

And I would have too, but Marcellius won't allow it. He's such a damn dad. He's always ruining the mood with his boring ass morals.

As I watched her walk out of the bathroom with a unsatisfied look on her face, I knew that he had failed to do his job. There was no look of bliss or ecstasy on her pretty little face. Instead, she looked sexually frustrated and annoyed.

I watched her leave the club disappointed, drunk, and regretting whatever the hell happened in that bathroom. It brought a smile to my face knowing that the outcome would have been very different had it been me in there instead of his weak ass.

She would not have been able to simply walk out of that bathroom. I would have fucked her so hard that she'd have no choice but to crawl on her stomach.

"Mr. Fierri baby..." The blonde on my lap runs her manicured French tips down my chest. She bites her lip before leaning in to plant kisses along my jaw and neck.

I push her off. As her boss, she knew better than to address me as anything other than Niccolo. Unlike my brother, I hated being addressed as Mr. Fierri. It makes me feel old and reminds me too much of my father. And besides having his temper- I was neither. "You're fired."

Her hands are flailing in the air as her ass comes in contact with the tiled flooring with a thud. She looks up at me with confusion wondering what she did wrong.

Marcellius would probably kill me for firing her without his permission, but at the moment I didn't give a rat's ass. "You and your lopsided breast implants can get the fuck out of my club."

She scoffs in disbelief, standing to her feet. She doesn't bother pulling down her dress, so her ass is completely exposed to me as she walks away. Her panties were in my pocket, and she wasn't getting them back.

Glaring at the brunette on my lap, she stands up and walks away, catching the memo. I was no longer in the mood to deal with the strippers here.

I wanted her and her alone. I wanted to watch her face contort in pleasure while I teased her little pussy with my cock. I wanted her screaming and begging me to put it in.

Fuck...

Just thinking about it makes my cock hard. I'm starting to regret firing the plastic barbie. She was always good at taking what I give her. Oh well.

Standing to my feet, I pick up my glass of whiskey and down the rest, before handing it to the waitress that passed by me.

"Nic." I whip around at the sound of Marcellius' stern voice. He sounds so much like father. Sometimes it takes me back to a dark place in my life when I was younger and father was training me to kill. It's a topic I've been trying hard to forget.

Shaking my head, I push the thought of my haunting dark past aside and look up at my brother. "Why is Karly leaving?"

It hasn't even been a minute and my brother already knows. I knew it had to do something with the staff. They kiss his ass like a bunch of dogs begging for a bone. Which pisses me off.

I roll my eyes. "I fired her."

"Why?"

"She said something I didn't like. Besides, she was beginning to be a bore." I cross my arms over my chest with a shrug.

I could tell Marcellius wanted to scold me like a damn toddler, but held back.

Smart choice.

I was in a fighting mood.

His wife, Mia, has been getting on him about being too bossy. The girl was alright. She's tolerable. As for their kids, I want to throw their ass in the trash. I can't stand children, especially hers. They frolic around like little bunny rabbits and are always getting into my

shit.

I don't understand how Marcellius can be so pussy whipped. First Selene, and now Mia. I'm getting sick and tired of the spawns he cares so much about. They are little demons that lure you in with their cuteness before devouring you whole.

God, I hate children.

And then her ass has the nerve to be pregnant again. This better be the fourth and final child, because if not- I'm dropping them off at an orphanage.

"Just talk to me first Nic." He combs a hand through his hair with a sigh. "She was one of our most popular strippers."

She wasn't all that. She couldn't twerk for shit with her flat ass. "You're so fucking lucky that we hired someone new yesterday."

I shift, hearing that someone knew would be joining the Fallen Angels. Cesare and I have slept with every stripper here. We received consent, of course. We've even shared a few. They've all been ran through at least once, so I'm excited to see a new face.

"Is she any good?"

"Well, we haven't met her yet. Julia was the one who hired her." Of course it was fucking Julia. She has been in charge of hiring all the staff since we first opened.

And never once, has she hired a stripper who can actually dance. I don't know why we haven't fired her yet.

"I think I might still have a picture from the resume she sent me." Marcellius reaches into the inner jacket of his suit and pulls out his phone. He opens up to the resume that was sent to him electronically.

My eyes widen when I see who it is. It's her. I recognize that smoky red hair, freckles, and hazel doe eyes. "What's her name?"

"Autumn Jacobs."

Autumn Jacobs.

I like the way her name rolls off my tongue like rich milk chocolate. A devilish grin forces its way onto my lips. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that she will be mine.