Jackie Dubois, a confident and ambitious woman from a small town in North Carolina, has come to the city with big dreams of making a name for herself. But her reality is far from the glamorous Hollywood life she imagined. She’s stuck working as a waitress at The Pharaoh’s Den, an exclusive nightclub with an electric vibe and a dark undercurrent. The club’s owner, Elias "Stacks" Moore, is every bit the enigma—smooth-talking, dangerous, and impossible to ignore. On the outside, he’s just another businessman, but behind the scenes? He’s a vampire who rules a world of blood, power, and temptation.
As Jackie gets drawn deeper into the tantalizing and dangerous world of the club, she starts to realize there’s far more at play than she ever imagined. Stacks sees something in her—something he’s willing to help her cultivate, but at a cost. He offers her a deal: the chance to rise to the stardom she’s always dreamed of, but accepting it means stepping into a world of darkness, immortality, and secrets she isn’t prepared for.
Characters: Jackie Dubois(OC) x Stacks" Elias" Moore (Vampire/ 70's gangster)
Warning: Blood, Vulgar Language, Volience, Sexual content & more...
A/N: Although Smoke got hold on me. Lol I been thinking about how Stacks gave pimp and rolling stone energy in Sinners. This gave me the idea to write something with a Blaxploitation vibe to it.
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The Pharaoh’s Den was alive. Funk music hummed in the air, a pulsating rhythm that matched the heartbeat of the city. The heavy scent of cigar smoke mixed with the sharp tang of whiskey and perfume, filling the club with a sense of both luxury and danger. Jackie Dubois moved effortlessly through the crowd, and her tray of drinks balanced with practiced ease. The night was just beginning, and every step she took brought her closer to her dream: Hollywood. But first, she had to make the money, the connections—get noticed.
She wasn’t new to this life. She’d worked in enough dives and clubs to know how to survive in a world that wasn’t always kind to women like her. But there was something about The Pharaoh’s Den that felt different. It wasn’t just the thick, electric vibe in the air or the sharp glances that followed her every move—it was the way the place seemed to pulse with an unspoken power, as if the club itself had a secret it wasn’t sharing with her. And tonight, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was getting closer to discovering it.
Back in the dressing room, Marietta was getting ready for her set, applying bold red lipstick and adjusting her shimmering costume. Her cousin was the star of the club’s go-go dancers, her body a perfect blend of seduction and power. Marietta had been dancing here for months, her movements fluid and hypnotic, commanding the crowd’s attention with every beat of the music. She was the one who had gotten J. the job at The Pharaoh’s Den, promising her that the hustle would pay off.
“This is where the real connections are, J. You gotta stick with it,” she’d said, her eyes always sparkling with ambition.
Jackie watched her cousin for a moment, the way she moved with effortless grace, the confidence she exuded as she prepared for her stage time. Marietta had the kind of magnetic presence that made heads turn, but Jackie. wasn’t sure if that was the path she wanted. She didn’t want to dance for men’s pleasure—she was here for something more. But tonight, it seemed like something else was in the air. The energy was thick with tension, and Jackie wasn’t the only one feeling it.
The sound of the music grew louder as Marietta slipped into her stage outfit—tight, sequined, and glittering under the dim lights. She shot Jackie. a wink in the mirror before grabbing a feathered fan and turning to leave the dressing room.
“Make sure you don’t let those pigs walk all over you tonight,” Marietta teased with a grin, her voice full of knowing humor.
Jackie laughed and nodded. “I got this. You just go out there and do your thing.”
But even as Marietta walked out of the room, J. couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight might be different.
Jackie moved out to the floor, taking orders from the tables in her usual manner—graceful, efficient, a perfect blend of warmth and distance. She had no time for distractions, especially from the men who seemed to think they could treat her like an object. Her mind was on her goal—money for the Hollywood dream. She wasn’t here to entertain anyone. But tonight, as the evening rolled on, the tension only grew.
As she passed a table near the back, she felt the eyes of the men on her before she even saw them. They were rough, hard-edged, the kind of men who didn’t have to say much to make their presence known. And she could tell right away that these men were trouble.
One of them, a burly man with a scruffy beard and gold chains hanging from his neck, leaned forward and called out to her with a thick drawl.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice low but dripping with something she didn’t like. “How ‘bout another drink?”
She kept walking, eyes straight ahead. She was used to men like him—loud, overbearing, trying to take control with their money and their bravado. She wasn’t interested.
“Can I take your order, sir?” she said, her voice smooth but firm, her tone making it clear that she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
But the man wasn’t done. He smiled like he knew something she didn’t. “Come on, girl. You ain’t got anywhere else to be. Bring me another whiskey, and maybe we’ll talk.”
Jackie didn’t stop, didn’t falter. She just kept walking, grabbing the whiskey from the bar and heading back in the direction of the table. But as she neared, the man’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist with a force that made her freeze.
“Now hold on a second, baby,” he slurred. “I said, come here. Don’t ignore me.”
Her heart pounded in her chest, a rush of anger and adrenaline flooding her veins. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away immediately, but something inside her snapped. She didn’t work in places like this to be grabbed, to be made to feel small.
Her eyes locked onto his, cold and steady. “Don’t touch me,” she said, her voice cutting through the air with an edge that was impossible to ignore.
Before the man could respond, a voice, low and commanding, rang out from across the table. It was calm, controlled—nothing like the drunk banter that filled the club.
She turned her head instinctively, searching for the source of the voice. A man sat at the center of the table, his presence like a shadow in the dim light. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, and his black hair was slicked back with practiced ease. His expression was unreadable, his eyes—sharp, calculating—locked onto hers.
The man who had grabbed her wrist quickly pulled his hand back, muttering an apology. But the newcomer didn’t even look at him. His gaze never left Jackie's.
“You’re new here,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet but carrying a tone that demanded attention. It wasn’t a question—it was a statement.
She felt a chill run down her spine. She stood her ground, the whiskey still in her hand. “That’s right,” she answered, her tone sharp. “I’m just here to do my job.”
The man leaned back in his chair, still studying her with that cool, detached look. “Maybe you should learn the rules of The Pharaoh’s Den before you go around talking back,” he said, his voice cold and dismissive.
“Here, we serve the customers. No one talks back to my crew.”
Her pulse quickened. “I’m not here to be anyone’s servant,” she retorted, her voice rising slightly. “I’ll serve drinks, but I’m not anyone’s toy.”
For the first time, a flicker of something crossed the man’s face—an unreadable expression, like he was sizing her up, weighing her defiance. But his lips stayed curled in that faint, almost amused smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You’ll learn fast enough,” he said, his voice turning to ice. “Now, get back to work. This is my club, and you’re just a part of it. Understand?”
Jackie's chest tightened, but she didn’t back down. She was used to being talked down to, but this felt different. The way he spoke, the way his presence seemed to suck the air out of the room—it unsettled her.
She opened her mouth to retort, to tell him just who she thought he was, but before she could speak, the man waved his hand dismissively, turning his attention back to the conversation with his crew. As if she were nothing.
She didn’t move right away. For a moment, she just stood there, trying to process what had just happened. This man—who the hell was he? Why did everyone listen to him like that?
Still seething, Jackie turned on her heel, walking away, but her mind was a whirl of frustration. She’d just been dismissed by a stranger who clearly had some kind of control over this place—and worse, he had made it clear that he expected everyone here to follow his rules. She wasn’t used to being told what to do, especially by someone who didn’t even have the decency to introduce himself.
As she reached the bar, she could feel his eyes on her, heavy and lingering. She didn’t look back, but she could feel it, that strange, magnetic pull. She didn’t know who he was, but she was certain of one thing: This man had just made his mark on her night.
She didn’t know it yet, but she had just crossed paths with the devil who ran The Pharaoh’s Den, the man who controlled not just the club but a world of power, secrets, and blood that no one outside the shadows would ever understand.
And Elias? He wasn’t done with her just yet.....
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