Meet a new target

The buzzing in her ear was a constant reminder that she was not alone, that every smile, every gesture, every whisper was observed and judged. Magi headed towards the round table where the man in the white jacket was sitting, as Costa had ordered. Each step in the high heels felt like driving stilettos into the polished wooden floor, and the black dress moved over her legs like a heavy, silky shadow.

The man was younger than the previous one, with an easy smile and a gaze that was already undressing her from afar. He didn't wait for her to arrive; he beckoned her over, as if calling a dog.

"Smile. Sit next to him without waiting for an invitation. You are part of the furniture," the metallic voice of Costa whispered.

Magi **** a smile and slid into the armchair next to him. The leather was cold through the thin fabric of her dress.

"New around here?" he asked, his hand immediately finding her knee under the table. His fingers were warm and damp. "My name is Adrian."

"Yes," she replied, trying to make her voice sound light, playful, the complete opposite of what she felt: a knot of repulsion and anxiety tightening her throat. "Magda."

"I like the new ones," Adrian said, leaning closer. His breath smelled of mint and gin. "They have that... fear that's so exciting."

"Ask him if he comes here often. If he's an investor," Costa ordered.

"Are you... an investor?" Magi asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her "exciting fear."

Adrian laughed, a hollow, self-satisfied sound.

"I invest in what I like. And I like to try new things." His hand slid a few centimeters higher on her thigh. "Are you a good investment?"

Magi suppressed the urge to push him away. She took a deep breath, recalling Silva's "lessons."

"It depends on what you're looking for," she managed to say, in a voice she hoped was seductive but sounded hoarse and tense.

"I'm looking for fun. And discretion," he replied, his gaze growing more intense. "Discretion is valued here. That's why I like this place. The owners know how to handle... delicate situations."

"Keep going there. Ask about the owners," Costa insisted.

"The owners must be important people," Magi hinted, taking a sip of her drink to wet her dry lips.

"People with connections," Adrian said, shrugging as if it were something mundane. "They know how to move money without making noise. Cleaning assets is an art, you know? And they are real artists here."

Magi's heart skipped a beat. It was the first time anyone had mentioned something so direct.

"Excellent. Keep going. Ask how," Costa's voice sounded almost excited.

"How... how is that art done?" Magi asked, trying to sound curiously impressed and not like a spy about to hyperventilate.

Adrian stared at her, and for a moment, Magi thought she had gone too far. His smile faded.

"That's a very specific question for a girl so... decorative," he said, his voice losing its artificial warmth. "Are you interested in the art or the artists?"

"Withdraw. Now. Say you need to go to the bathroom," Costa cut in, his tone urgent.

"Excuse me," Magi said, standing up with a trembling smile. "I need to go to the... to the bathroom."

Adrian nodded, but his expression changed. Curiosity had replaced disdain.

"Wait," he said, grabbing her wrist with an unexpected ****. "The bathroom can wait. Come, I'm going to show you something more interesting."

He stood up, not letting go of her wrist, and began to guide her toward the back of the club, away from the main area, down a darker, narrower corridor where the music was a distant throb.

"Do not resist. Follow him. This might be better than expected," Costa whispered in her ear, his voice charged with an expectation that Magi found nauseating.

"Where... where are we going?" Magi asked, trying not to sound alarmed.

"To where the real fun is," Adrian replied in an enigmatic tone. "The VIP lounges aren't just for drinking champagne, beautiful."