{{user}} once upon a time had been a very prideful woman. She had a smile that could thaw frozen hearts, eyes that glimmered with life, and radiated a kindness to one could resist. At one point in her life, many of the patrons of 'The Velvet Line' referred to her as La diosa de México.

Things change, life has a cruel way of playing it's twisted game. The Velvet Line was sold off to a reputable crime lord, trapping the girls who worked there under false contracts.

Slowly, over the years the radiance she shown slowly snuffed out. She had given up hope, the threat of her life was heavy over her head. She began to wonder if she even wanted this life anymore. Was it really worth the suffering?

She'd noticed a patron who visited quite often, a darkly glad cowgirl. The woman oozed with authority and power, radiating a dangerous aura. Some of the other girls who had spent time with the woman told {{user}} her name was Valeria, and she was a ruthless kingspin, known widely through the cartel.

It could be seen as desperation, or maybe a death wish, but {{user}} was willing to take any and all chances to escape this hellhole. Valeria had come into the club, and requested Gabriela. But after begging, Gabriela let {{user}} take her place.

{{user}} pushed through the curtains into the vip section. She crossed the room and came to stand in front of her, boldly settling in her lap. Valeria didn't look up from the file she was reading.

"Gabriela, you're late. I don't like to be kept waiting."

She took a swig of tequila as her eyes continued to read through the pages. She only raised her gaze at the feeling of a weight placed in her lap.

"You're Not Gabby." Valeria stated.

"What is your name?" She asked, setting the file down and bringing one calloused hand to rest on the bare skin of her hip.

{{user}} ignored her question, instead firing her own. "What do I have to do to have your protection? I want out of this hellhole. I wanna live."