Inna's pov
"Forget them. When was the last time you did something for yourself? " Olga was quite the troublemaker. "We'll be sneaking out in an hour and get my car. Get ready. I'll come back to help you with your makeup."
Left to my own thoughts as Olga casually walked off to prepare himself, I pondered the proposition. It took me a mere thirty seconds before I started rummaging through my wardrobe.
I knew exactly what I wanted—a red ensemble that would make heads turn. All I desired was to escape from it all.
It was red this time, Olga was the one who decided the colors after telling me that I was getting my wearing dark dresses and I couldn't help but take a picture of myself.
Well, a lot.
I looked stunning.
Tonight, I longed to be someone else. my hands traced along the clothes hanging in my closet, searching for the velvety fabric Olga had gifted me—a low-rise, square-necked mini dress. It was exquisitely crafted, with a modest slit that ran from my mid-thigh to the point where my leg met my pelvis. It was perfect.
I just needed the right heels to match. With a scoff, I sat on my bed, removing my shoes and slipping on the slightly loose, yet suitable, heels. They added a couple of centimeters to my height when I stood up.
I let out a slight groan as the dress hugged my figure tightly, causing a slight ache in my sides. Gazing into the mirror, I couldn't help but smile at my reflection. Despite the snug fit, I admired how stunning I looked.
The dress boasted thick red straps and a form-fitting bodice, accentuating my already ample bosom. It clung tightly to my waist, revealing the subtle curves around my midsection and posterior, not to mention the faint scars. But for now, I paid them no mind.
"Alright, time for hair!" Olga, now donning a knee-length red silk dress, exclaimed with excitement. I spun around, my smile radiating as I took in my appearance.
my smile transformed into a mischievous smirk—I must have been up to something. "My dress choices are always the best," Olga declared confidently.
In an instant, Olga produced a hair straightener and began playing with my own locks, occasionally running it through my hair. It felt like only five minutes had passed before I put the device away and beamed with satisfaction.
"Now, it's time for makeup!" Olga exclaimed, gasping and unplugging the hair straightener. I gathered all my makeup tools and forcefully sat me down on the bed.
I winced from the impact.
"Let me do the makeup," I interjected, gently pushing Olga away as I attempted to apply some eyeliner. I didn't want anything too heavy on my face. Olga pouted for a moment but reluctantly nodded.
"This is what you asked for," She reminded me, as she gave me a syringe.
Olga handed me a small sachet filled with sedatives.
"Thank you," I acknowledged, accepting the string. "The only effect is inducing sleep, I stole it from Sin," Olga warned. "And don't forget to wear your glasses and mask. We should at least conceal your eyes until we enter the club."
"Olga, what about the house's security cameras?" I asked, bracing myself for another surprise from Olga, who had already proven herself to be full of them.
Olga grinned and proudly displayed her phone, revealing that she had complete control over the house's CCTV system. "I can monitor all the cameras from here. If anyone leaves the house, I'll know. Don't worry," She assured me.
I nodded, feeling a bit relieved.
"But wait," Olga continued, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Don't you want your target to come to you? After all, it's his birthday."
I chuckled and glanced back at Olga as they descended the stairs, making sure to keep their voices low. "As you said, he's my target for revenge, not someone to enjoy my night with," I replied with determination.
"Then make sure he enjoys his birthday to the fullest," Olga encouraged.
We took her car.
As we entered the club, the dance floor was packed with people, and vibrant music filled the air. Everyone was immersed in the energetic beats, twirling, twisting, and even linking hands as they changed partners.
Smiles adorned their faces as they let loose, not caring about anything else.
In the midst of the crowd, I could hear a cacophony of muted sounds from the revelers. The dance floor resembled a worn-out chessboard, strewn with spilled drinks and shattered glass.
The lights illuminated the scene, momentarily exposing the aftermath of the wild and sensual moments that had unfolded mere minutes ago.
A hand caught around my wrist as I was in my deep dance. I swing my head back to see a male guy with blonde hair smirking while gripping me harder.
"Hi, beautiful," the stranger greeted, attempting to grind against me. My eyes widened with alarm as I desperately tried to escape, but his physical strength overwhelmed me. there seemed to be no way out, trapped in his grasp.
Just when I started dancing with the stranger for a mere two minutes, Olga swooped in, swirling towards them with a vodka in one hand and grabbing the stranger with the other. What a whirlwind.
"Your target has just moved," she whispered in my ear before swiftly departing, leaving me on my new mission. Making Sin mad.
Well. We were all born to be mad. Aren't we?
"Now, let's have some fun," the blonde guy murmured, his lips moistening as he pressed my hips closer to his body. The pungent scent of alcohol emanated from him, assaulting my senses. I couldn't stand the smell, but I needed him.
Within seconds, his hands began to venture downward, one squeezing my backside while the other tried to hike up my dress for more access.
Normally, I would brush it off and slip away into a different part of the crowd, but this felt more forceful than I was accustomed to. I knew I should use him, and exploit his desires for my agenda.
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—drunken men feeling entitled to a woman's presence on the dance floor. But I had a mission to fulfill, and I was willing to bide my time, waiting for Sin.
Where the hell are you, Sin?
I wondered impatiently, hoping for my victim-in-crime to arrive soon.
