“Celeste!” A man approaches, already half smashed. “Look at you! You clean up so well.”
“Hello, Hamilton." She gives him a soft smile before they lean in and kiss each other's cheeks. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
“You already know I am, love. You do throw the best events. I love the poker tables you brought in tonight. I already won six grand, and the girls are such beautiful creatures. I can’twait for the performance tonight.” He shifts, trying to keep his balance.
He must be a regular because if it was anyone else, there’s no doubt he would be removed and cut off. She speaks with him without an ounce of annoyance as if this is a normal thing for him.
“I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. Tell Miranda to pour you another on me and make sure you take care of my girls. I have business to tend to. Thank you all for coming.” She gives a tight smile before she turns and moves amongst the crowd with Antonio.
I peel my eyes away, taking a quick scan around the room. We get notice in our earpieces from Beckett that there's no sign of him yet and we make our way to a love seat couch and claim our space. A dancer joins our area and sways her hips, brushing her hands across my shoulders. Monroe gives a little distance between us but she’s busy marking the exits as I did and then moving her attention to the girls around. One catches her staring and comes up to her, giving her a lap dance, seducing her as the other does to me. Helping us play into our roles, naturally.
I notice a man sitting by himself with his arms wide, watching and staring in our direction. No emotion, no reaction, and once he realizes we catch him staring, his eyes revert elsewhere and takes a sip of his drink. I note it and speak low for the others to hear me to keep an eye on him. After about thirty minutes, the lights lower and a stage that I didn’t really notice before comes into view and the music dies down.
“Ladies and gentlemen," the DJ announces, causing everyone to stop what they’re doing and shift their attention to the front. “May the main event begin. We have a special treat for you. For the first time, let me introduce you to, CandaceLane."
The lights switch to a red hue and the music switches to Yukon X Up remix. Smoke emerges around the edges and clouds the stage in a seductive alluring way, snagging your attention that something grand is coming. The crowd seems to hold their breath, waiting to see who will be appearing in front of them. You can tell by their body language that this is new and they’re waiting to devour the treat they’re being given.
I catch something moving from the ceiling and once I get a good view, a woman is moving gracefully in the air in a harness being lowered down to the stage. Her body moves with the beat and lands gracefully, seductively removing the harness from her body. She’s wearing a black studded bra, complementing her large tits, a beaded thong, and long-heeled boots. Before I can see her face, she’s moving.
Her body sways with the beat as she makes her way to the pole. She wraps her arm around it and thrusts herself up, legs twirling in the air and quickly curls around the pole, spinning in one fluent motion. So graceful, as if she’s been doing this her whole life. I feel movement next to me and Monroe shifts in her seat just as mesmerized as the rest of us.
Once she lands back to the bottom, her legs spread wide as she rolls her body forward. Her body twirls, rolls against the pole, and she drops to her knees, ass on full display. I know I should look away, but something about her body is so familiar, drawing me in to lean forward. Her body is covered in glitter and she seems to have some sort of lotion that really enhances her olive skin. She maneuvers her body and crawls forward, causing the men to cheer her on, throwing bills onto the stage. She pays no attention to it as she prowls looking for her prey. She looks up and our eyes clash and, in that moment, my body stops beating.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CELESTE
“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”- Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Inever felt so liberated and powerful as I do now. The way that I could have everyone on their knees with a snap of a finger if I wanted to, not that it changes any other time. This is a different feeling. Everyone's eyes are on me, every sway, tease and prowl, they yearn for more. Money flies onto the stage from every direction, hooting and hollering fills the club. They have no idea the owner and Mafia queen is entertaining not for their benefit but her own. That under this disguise is a predator looking for its prey amongst the crowd.
My eyes search through the crowd looking for the one face that looks uncomfortable with a hint of rage. He has to be here, this has to work. As I crawl seductively forward, my eyes collide with brown eyes that don't belong with the man that sits in my clear view. His eyes widened with realization of who the woman is under the rouge. His emotions are going wild within seconds of each other.
Shock, turned on, confusion as if he’s trying to figure out what I’m up to. His hand is clenched to the arm of the chair and his breathing becomes erratic as he’s about to blow his cover and march right up to this stage and punish me for my little show. A part of me hopes he does and takes me to his sacred room, ties me up, and makes me beg for his touch.
I break our stare, sliding my body to the floor with my ass in the air, moving my hips side to side. Rolling my chest on the ground, my legs move to the side. In one movement, I bring myself in a split and bounce up and down. My eyes roam the audience, noticing a guy perched up against a wall. He’s dressed in a white suit, a small cross laying on top and his hair is slicked back with gel. I take note of his stiff body and slight tremble in his hands.
“Gentleman on the east side wall in the white suit. Stiff, hands trembling, fighting to keep under control. He’s the only one I notice wearing a cross as if it’s going to protect him from all the dirty sins he’s witnessing,” I mumble low but enough for my earpiece to catch.
The feds may have their men, but mine are at every shadowed crevice. They’re like demons, watching, waiting for a soul to take.
“Got him. Don’t break character, keep going. Your man looks a little rough, though,” Samson teases.
“Good, payback for letting the little hoebag of a partner hang all over him,” I retort.
When I saw her hands on him, it took every ounce of willpower not to snap those fingers. She knew what she was doing.
“It’s literally part of their job tonight, darling. It’s an act. Don’t let your panties get stuck up your ass,” Antonio chimes in.
“Did someone tell her that?” God, this woman gets undermy damn skin. I grab onto the pole, making my way up before twisting it so it's behind my shoulder and swing myself around it, swiftly moving into another position.
For a moment, I lose myself in the moment and forget about everyone around me. I let my body take over as I swing out and the pole is between my legs as they are straightened out and I bend backwards letting my upper body bend backwards. The next couple of movements on the pole happen in a blur, as if it knows what to do without asking.
Once I lower to the ground, I step from the stage and find a gentleman near Alaric and my hand brushes across his shoulders. I circle him until I'm right in front of him and bend forward, my chest sticking out and my mouth a breath from his.
“May I?” I whisper seductively. He shutters and nods his head quickly.
Running my hand down his chest, I twirl so my ass is facing him and lower myself into his lap. I swear I hear a little growl to the left of me and I turn my head slightly as Alaric is about to launch from his seat but his partner has hold of his forearm whispering into his ear. I smirk, taunting him and grinding into the willing participant below me. Said person brings their hand to my waist as if he wants me to grind harder.
