*A Year Ago*

Cuff me up, make me beg,

Heat in my body, sweat tastes sweet. Make the crowd beg more,

No mercy, no end in this beat.

I sway my hips, slowly, sliding down to the music, my lower lip locked in between my teeth as I grind against the metal pole. The chillness of it blends with the hot atmosphere of the club.

My skin burns from the lustful gaze of men throwing filthy money on the stage.

I don't care, that's not where my gaze stays locked in. It's HIM. He's here again.

Zavier Conti. The devil king.

I swirled, dropping low as the beat dropped, then picked up again. Crawling slowly to the sensual beat, forward, his eyes never leaving mine as he downed his scotch.

He watches my every move, like a predator watching its prey. Hungry eyes roam my body with promises of things he'd do to me. Bad things.

But he's got it wrong, he was never the predator, I am.

I watch him lean on his seat, legs spread wide in comfort as his middle finger plays with his lower lip.

Slowly, knowing this is where we part, I play with the strap of my costume, a gentle tease as the stage light dims, cutting off the viewer's gaze.

That was my cue to leave. I step backstage, hearing the roars from the crowd asking for more.

“Esia, that was hot! Those men wanted to devour you,” Catie cheered, all dolled up, ready for her performance.

“But, why didn't you pick up the bills, those were worth more than what Luciano gets”

I take a seat at the makeup table, taking a wipe to clean off my makeup, my mind still reeling from the man from before.

“I don't want it. He can keep them all" She huffs, already done with the conversation.

“Do you think my boobs look too small in this?" I pause, eyeing her chest

“Nope, just the perfect size,” " I bet Luciano would cum in his pants when he sees them.” I smirked, watching as red tints her cheeks.

I don't understand how she'd have a crush on Luciano, that man-whore. He is the overseer of this club, handles every business going on here.

In my little stay here, I've heard things about him. Nasty things happening in this club. Well I'm not surprised, since it's a club mostly filled with crime bosses.

Yeah, I get that he's handsome and has that Italian accent, but still, I wouldn't sleep with him. God knows where his dick has been.

“Shhhh! I don't want him to hear that" She scolds, leaning closer

“We had sex last night, it was MAGICAL,” she strained at the last word, giggling like a high schooler drunk on a love potion.

“You should've seen his di—”

" Nope. Nuh uh! No! TMI woman! I seriously don't wanna hear that” I cut her off, saving my ears from swallowing bleach tonight.

“Well, your loss." She shrugs, then, right on time, the door to the dressing room opens as four girls enter, mixed races, two of whom are ages you wouldn't see coming.

Then the man of the hour— Luciano enters, a shit eating grin on his face. You could guess why.

“Hello ladies” He beamed, Catie, already in a puddle beside me

"Esia! You were spectacular on stage, you even got yourself a fan club in the VIP section!” He mused, not even glancing at Catie.

He finally turns, facing her.

“Catie, you're up in 5 minutes,” he leaves. I turn to her, my tongue rolling with sarcasm

" Don't even start,” She remarked, already leaving the room as the door slammed shut behind her.

It's been 3 days since I came to Italy and started working here undercover. I wanted to see for myself what the face of the devil looks like. Words of the mouth don't fit.

I need to know the face of the monster who ruined my life.

Then I met Catie. Since then, she's been clinging to my arm like a sexy baby koala. Yeah, go ahead and imagine that.

The burner phone attached under my dressing table vibrated, hurriedly, I muted it. Looking around the room for any suspicious gaze— none. I head straight to the ladies' restroom.

“What do you want? You can't call me when I'm in the club!" I whisper-yelled at the responder

“I don't care, just get me the necessary details." My tone, curt and demanding.

"Non me ne frega un cazzo se viene con attaccato pure un braccio umano! I want those details, and I want them filed right now!” I barked

The line went dead, informing me he gets exactly what I meant, or there would be consequences.

<<<<<<>>>>>><<<<>>>>

I moan immediately when my back hits the bed. I'd kill for a massage right now. My door opens. An irritated grunt escapes my throat as Sebastian invites himself in.

“ There's a thing called knocking you know"

"Well look who it is! If it isn't the Oxford dictionary herself,” He poorly counters, I snickered.

“What the hell did you do to Diego? He's been running around for days," he asked, taking a seat on my couch.

“How long will it take till our mole contacts us? Heard only the boss knows who he is." I changed the topic, directing it towards business instead.

“ Who knows, we only need a go-ahead from above before we proceed with the swapping." I’ve always stayed away from the crazier part of crime, drugs, arms shipment, trafficking, you name it.

But that doesn't mean I don't get to know the in and out of everything going on.

" Heard from the boss yet?” Sebastian asked, typing away on his phone.

“Nope, not since I left New York."

“Well that's some father-daughter relationship you've got going on."

He's not my father, I wanted to say, but he doesn't need to know. Not until I'm done with everything.

I stand, walking to my balcony, the night view from this hotel is amazing, giving me a clear view of the city. It's been seven years.

The memory, still so fresh, as if it was just yesterday.

My mum's laughter, her joyful singing as she makes me cupcakes. My Papa's teddy hugs— the way I love calling it.

But I'm back now, back to right every wrong. Forgetting Sebastian was still in the room. I lift the pendant on my neck towards my lips, kissing it gently.

“I miss you…”

My phone chimes, signaling a message. Taking it out of my pocket, I go through the message sent from Diego, finally.

My fingers halt abruptly at a particular image.

It's him, same face, same chiseled jawline. Same intense grey eyes.

The man I've been dancing for, the same man. The one who fueled my moves with the intensity of his gaze.

The one hidden in the shadows, far from every other viewer, watching my every move.

That monster!

He's the Italian mob boss. A cruel smile makes its way up my lips

“Ain't this my lucky day…”