~MOUSE~
Ophelia extended her gratitude to the towering, bald bouncer whose muscles rippled beneath the tight fabric of his black security shirt.
The intricate designs of tattoos adorned his bare arms, creating a mosaic of linked stories.
The rhythmic thump of bass from within the club pulsed through the air as he nodded in acknowledgment, granting her entry.
She plastered on a polite yet feigned smile, the kind that flirted with charm but never quite committed.
The man seemed so stunned by it that he hardly even looked at her invitation.
Passing through the entrance, Ophelia found herself engulfed in a world of opulence and extravagance.
The club, a cavernous expanse of dimly lit allure, resonated with the murmur of conversation and the tantalizing beat of music that vibrated through the plush carpet beneath her heels.
The atmosphere was rich with the scent of fine perfumes and expensive liquor.
The ambient lighting cast a soft glow on the polished surfaces of the mahogany bar and reflected off the glittering dresses of the dancers.
The high-class clientele, adorned in tailored suits and elegant dresses, moved like choreographed dancers through the sea of tables and plush seating arrangements.
Waiters in immaculate black uniforms weaved gracefully between the clusters of patrons, delivering crystal glasses filled with amber liquid.
The stages around the room were elevated golden platforms surrounded by a cascade of velvet half-naked dancers in masks.
The music transitioned seamlessly, guiding the dancers through hypnotic movements that left the audience transfixed.
Callisto was right, they were a distraction.
Ophelia chose a seat at the bar, the cool leather embracing her as she observed the scene.
The dancers, adorned in extravagant costumes that seemed to defy gravity, twirled and contorted in a mesmerizing display of skill and sensuality.
While the clientele mingled and made deals in the corner of the room, feigning interest in the dancers.
She ordered a glass of champagne, the effervescent liquid bubbling in the crystal flute.
The bartender, a suave man with a neatly groomed beard, slid the glass across the bar with practised finesse.
As Ophelia sipped the golden elixir, her gaze wandered across the room, taking in the captivating scene of power, wealth, and desire.
The patrons, a blend of corporate moguls and socialites, engaged in animated conversations that echoed against the ornate walls.
She could practically see the cartel swarming around them like sharks.
Ophelia leaned back, enveloped in the plush comfort of her seat, absorbing it all.
Her gaze glided across the room, finally settling on a familiar figure.
Lean and handsome, his raven-black hair perfectly styled, and drilling brown eyes that seemed to cut through the dimly lit ambience.
Dressed in a sleek black suit that emphasized the confident lines of his form, he stood out even in the sea of opulence.
YOU ARE READING
The Mouse and The Monarch
Fanfiction~She embodied the essence of his world, a captivating masterpiece sculpted with the strokes of both his fervent passion and haunting despair~ Ophelia Moreau. Otherwise known as Mouse. A French Sergeant turned KorTac Operative who has major temper i...
