[Dark Romance] [In the process of editing]
In a life of forbidden emotions a lady in disguise has to follow certain rules. Once they're broken - she is as good as dead.
To each rule she finds an exception that leads to a consequence of choosing bet...
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As soon the glass of my drink hit the bar, Lola grasped my forearm and dragged me into the swarm of euphoric people who were literally buzzing under the influence of candies you would never see in the confectionery. In the crowd, one becomes a whole so we threw our little dance party. It didn't last long though, as she was reminded of her working hours by a client, the man who had been sitting with Vincent in the private area of the club.
Who has been noisy? Of course me. Only I call it a background report. An accurate description of the man that was connected to De Vitto I had found on the darknet flashed me the other side of the coin - Lola's client was Vincent's underboss. As far as I knew, his name was Marco.
He didn't differ that much from his boss Italian-genetically wise, apart from one thing - De Vitto looked more mature. Back to the memory of them walking out of the elevator, Vincent's prominent height somewhat exuded power in a way that made everyone look modestly small, even Marco, who wasn't much shorter than his boss.
Lola's client is dressed in black dress pants and a shirt the same shade. The first few buttons are undone, revealing his tattooed torso. I make a quick conclusion that Marco indeed works on his body at the gym, and he's a total jerk. There's something about the same pattern, regarding his looks, in those men like him.
Marco's eyes snap at me, appealing terrifyingly dark, they're black, as he moves his lips in a churned sass. "Do you want to join us or...?"
Lola's giggle brings my consciousness to the level of awareness that Marco is definitely a jerk. I wave my head as a "no" and throw him a dice in the sign language "Fuck off, prick" with a tainted smile on my face.
To which Marco's mouth rises in a lopsided grin and he replies "Arrivederci carina."
He thought I aced him a goodbye, basically I did.
The moment Vincent's underboss turns his back on me while walking away with Lola, I see a gun concealed behind his back. She'd better be careful around him.
Who would have thought Vincent wouldn't be here alone? I wonder to myself and join the musical embrace, as alcohol in my system persists me to shake fury out of my bones and show off the pretty dancing skills I usually misplace with a good fight.
My eyes perceive many men staring ravenously at me but I don't care, there is only one person who catches my attention, work-wise. Vincent De Vitto is watching my every move, and he knows it doesn't go unnoticed. I can feel his leering gaze on my legs, my slender shoulders, and my neck, everywhere. As if he tries to find my soft spots, to tear them with his claws once he finds out my intentions.
On the spur of the moment, the music tone changes to a slow one, and red lights brush the air with lusty zeal. Seven girls in exotic and sexy costumes appear inside the cages with poles that hang a little lower than the ceiling, as if during Beyonce's concert, only it is a private club. They are worn in different styles of clothing, as well as their make-up. It isn't hard to guess which motives they carry - each represents seven deadly sins. Spinning around the poles, the seven of them jive, following the rhythm of the seductive music that gradually morphs into various genres.
