Her Shadows

CHAPTER NINETEEN

AMELIA POV

[A month later]

My crime board loomed above me, littered with photographs, sticky notes and red tape. All small puzzle pieces slowly finding their place. The faces of many known associates of Mr Parker stare back at me as I attempt to find the link. What role do each of these people play in the Auction? 

Just how do they fit?

The centrepiece of the board being various blueprints of that house Parker's driver had led me too. Out of the small number of houses the driver may have been travelling toward, only one had a connection to Mr Parker. Idiot had purchased the building under his wife's name.

Amateur.

Although it did make my job that much easier. I now had access to every security camera position, all entrances and exits as well as the number of guards, their placements and rotation schedule.

It also seems as though the man-power only increases as the guards move toward one particular room. And seeing as though that particular room is written to have fortified walls and a top-notch security system, I'm positive that inside is a safe containing the rest of the Auction's victim files.

I also deduced that said safe would require a key, a 6-digit passcode and a fingerprint scanner. A tad excessive but not impossible to crack.

So, with prizes to acquire before the real fun can begin, I stray one more glance to that board and the photograph, connected with red tape, underneath those blueprints. The holder of the key.

Through the glare of the board, highlighted by the rays of dawn, my reflection stared back at me.

And I felt it shudder at the predatory glint within my eyes.

~~~

My hips sway seductively to the sultry music, my hands trailing up my chest, over my breasts to my platinum white wig.

I shoot a mischievous smile toward the hungry gazes watching me as I bend forward, purposefully ensuring my gaze fell on one particular patron. Slowly bringing myself up to standing, I seductively sashay toward the pole, and place my hands on it, one above the other.

Hooking the curve of my inner foot around the pole, my inner thigh gripping, I gracefully lift myself in the air and bring my other leg up, up, up. Hoots sound from the crowd as my skimpy black and red, barely there, skirt lifts even further to reveal the dainty lace thong. My red bustier corset top shaping my curves in all the right places.

I reposition myself, climbing higher on the pole and sit, my inner thighs gripping relentlessly.

Leaning back, I'm completely upside down and so close to one edge of the stage that a lust-filled and excited customer shoves a $20 bill into the space between my breasts. Biting back the urge to kick the baby-faced blondie in the face with my heels, I instead shoot him a seductive smile and wink.

I swear he almost fainted.

I lift myself back up and shimmy back down the pole. Quickly placing one hand back on the pole and standing side on I throw myself into a full swing, my feet lifting off the ground in a carousel.

Halfway through the spin, I swing around, hands repositioning and land in a back spin. I land on the floor and drag my body to the ground, ass in the air. I then cat-stretch back up and body roll back to my feet.

Gripping the pole once again I throw myself into a spin, twisting so my back now faces the floor and my legs spread into the splits, a move the front-row clients very much appreciate and continue to spin in a move called the phoenix.

After shooting another look at my prey's hungry gaze, I manoeuvre my body into the Pegasus, where I lay upside down. One leg wrapped around the pole and the other pointing toward the crowd.

Coming down and furthering the routine with a series of booty drops, and dancing I notice that I had not only caught the attention of my intended target, but he began to summon me over.

Hiding my murderous, violent thoughts for this vile man behind a sultry, excited gaze I slide off the stage and saunter toward the spread legs of the man.

As I reach him, I remind myself to drop down into a low squat, that skirt once again pushing up and revealing my scandalous lingerie and drag my fingers along the beer-bellied individual. His downturned eyes appraising my figure as I bite my cherry red lips.

Eyes blazing with lust and a cheeky grin I ask, "hey darling, you want some company?"

At my question he drags a grubby finger across his lips, smiling to reveal yellowed and brown teeth from a life of cigarettes and grips my arm just a tad too hard. He all but drags me away to a private room, my school girl giggles escaping during the journey.

The moment the door closes to a dirty and small room I push him against the fraying couch. I turn, throwing a lusty smirk over my shoulder and saunter toward the makeshift bar.

Of all the upper-class strip clubs in town, of course this man picked the only dodgy and downright feral one.

I bend over, purposefully revealing my ass whilst pretending to fix the strap of my heel. His attention completely fixated on my behind, he doesn't notice me grab the tiny bag strapped beneath the heel 0f my foot, inside the shoes.

I begin making us both drinks and bring them over. I climb onto his jean clad lap and he grunts in approval, moving those dirt-crusted nails along my thighs viciously.

It's almost impossible to keep the look of pure murder out of my eyes but instead I clink our glasses together and watch my take a large gulp of the whiskey, wiping away the liquid from his chapped lips with the back of his hand.

It doesn't take long for him to begin swaying where he sits, those bulging eyes beginning to droop and his muscles turning lax, his grip loosening where they lay on my ass.Within seconds he drifted off, head falling directly between my boobs.

Classy.

Gripping his greasy black hair in my fingers and yanking his head back I don't hesitate in taking the key from the chain around his neck I had spied earlier and swapping it for the fake I had brought and stored in my bustier.

I then peel myself from his lap, grimacing and desperately wanting a baby wipe for the sweat on my thighs. GAG.

Knowing he'll simply awake with a whopping headache, blue balls and a mild memory of a seductive girl in a white wig, I jingle the key in my hand and exit with a smile.

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Damn, our girl Amelia is a bit of a badass!

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