All That Matters (Red Light Ladies 1) - Page 1

In the Beginning...

I used to be Amity Crane.

I used to be successful, strong, beautiful, loved. I used to be the girl who would make guys pant when I walked by them, the girl that took the world by storm, and the girl that loved a good adventure more than anything else. I was the girl obsessed with superhero movies and devoured all the books I could get my hands on.

I used to be a lot of things until three years ago when I got hooked on drugs and became a nympho. I don’t really know why I did it. I think boredom played a huge factor in my downfall. I was home alone a lot since my boyfriend started traveling a lot for business.

My beauty went away, my success took a shit overnight, and the man that loved me more than he loved himself left me because of my infidelities.

Distraught at what I had become, I turned into a pimp-less whore. I saved enough money to get a small apartment and I got myself clean. I slowly started to rebuild myself and I almost had everything I lost with the exception of Theo. He never did forgive me, but it made me stronger than ever and I would like to think that’s the reason I’ve survived as long as I have now.

See, I had decided that since Theo couldn’t love me anymore and I knew I’d never be able to forgive myself for what I did to him, I left. A year after I got back on my feet, I had saved enough money to do a little globe hopping. Not too many places, but I figured the ones that were closest in proximity would be the places I would go to. Then, I told myself, when I got back from my international adventure I would find a job and keep attending my voluntary rehab sessions. Maybe I could find someone that was just like me and help them. Maybe that would get my mind off of losing the greatest love I knew I would ever have.

It was when touring The Palace of the Grand Masters in Malta that I decided would go home after I visited Camogli and find Theo. I’d tell him everything that I hated about myself for doing what I did to him. I would tell him that he deserved better, he deserved someone who would love him and never stray, and he deserved to be happy. I’d confess that I knew I would never be worth what I was when I was with him. Money, even though I had a lot of it before my mental breakdown, was of no consequence to me anymore. Cars, property, houses; none of it would matter to me anymore because I couldn’t share it with him. My final confession would be that I would never feel happiness or worth again. Theo Lennox would always hold a place in my heart and I knew I would always hold a place in his. I could only hope that he would believe me.

When I left The Palace, I went to the last place on my stop. Camogli had been on the top of my list since I left America because I wanted see the beautiful and colorful homes on the hills and possibly see the Christ of the Abyss statue in the harbor of San Fruttuoso.

But I never made it home.

After I had surfaced from my dive the world turned against me. At least that’s how it seemed. The family, who had been gracious enough to allow me to rent a room in their home, had my belongings tossed out into the street. No amount of knocking could get them to answer the door and so I grabbed my bags and left.

I remembered being confused, wondering what I had done to be tossed out onto the street, as I made my way through the colorful fishing town trying to find a hostel to stay in.

I remember laying my head down on the limp pillow in the dark little room on the uncomfortable and stiff bed. I remember falling asleep to the sound of whispered voices and I remember holding onto my bag as tightly as I could.

I remembered being afraid, but nothing could prepare me for what true fear was. Nothing could prepare me for waking up in an unfamiliar place and being told by someone I didn’t know that he had purchased me and that I was now his property.

I didn’t recognize his accent so I knew I was no longer in Italy. I didn’t recognize the city outside the barred windows so I didn’t know how I was going to get home if I couldn’t figure out where I was starting from.

I remembered the headache pounding inside my skull, small bursts of bright white light, attacking me every hour, wondering what the hell had been done to me already.

He led me blindfolded to a long wooden table, an iron collar around my neck, and clasped the long chain that had been attached to it to the wall behind me. I was only wearing panties, unsure of what happened to the rest of my clothing. He told me his name was Kerstan and that I would work off the family’s debt; the family that let me stay with them in Camogli.

He told me that my name was Lieve and instructed me to forget any past I had, because my future was uncertain. He said that once I paid off the family’s debt, he would decide what to do with me.

Like I said; I used to be Amity Crane. Now I’m Lieve, red light district whore extraordinaire, to be used at any male or females discretion until I can pay back a debt that was never mine to begin with. A debt that I know nothing about for a family that tricked me into thinking I had found a safe place to live.

As I followed the old, bulgingly, disgusting man into the back room of the whorehouse, I wondered if this would be my last trick before freedom.

I was wrong.

Freedom was never meant to be mine.


“Goedemorgen dames,” Kerstan said to us as he entered the room. Everyone promptly mumbled their good mornings except for me.

Kerstan Janssen was an absolute sight to look at. Brown straight hair that fell behind his ears, sun-kissed flawless skin, almond shaped light green eyes, a very strong jaw, and a cleft in his chin. True to his heritage he was a tall man and true to his looks, he kept his body well-conditioned and toned.

If this were another time and another place, I would definitely have make a go at Kerstan.

I was sitting on an old spring mattress held up by springs and a bent metal bed frame, in panties only, chained to the wall behind me. That’s how we all were when we were in this room. I assumed he had some kind of dominance issues and that’s why we were held like this, but I never vocalized it to any of the others.

As I looked around the room at the girls in the room with me who had also been sold to him to settle debt, I wondered how long they had been here. Kerstan had a magnificent collection of beautiful women from all over the world. Some were from S

weden, others from Germany, France, Nepal, Indonesia and I just so happened to be the stereotypical, token American girl. Almost traditiontially “American looking” I had light, long blonde hair, hazel blue eyes, a slender body with a little extra in all the right places, and a million dollar smile. That was me and I was his “best seller”.

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