Dance of Affliction (GxG)

Silence Before The Storm

»»-----¤-----«« Mallory's Pov »»-----¤-----««

"Off to do my job."

All I can do is watch her sashay away with her serving platter before she disappears into the crowd. This woman is really pushing my buttons. Not to mention that I had to shell out extra for her lap dance. I can't help but wonder who taught her such disobedience. Yet, I still crave more and more from her, driving me up the wall. Never before has a woman been able to drive me so mad, making me do all sorts of foolish things against my better judgement. It's as if all my common sense suddenly gets thrown right out of the window.

I can't help but laugh at her brazen behavior. She is certainly not your typical co-operating dancer. I lean back in my booth, idly toying with the dice in my hand as I watch her every move. This week has been infuriating - I need to find new associates to replace the two that I dealt with and somehow prevent the mafia from interfering with my business. A grunt of annoyance passes through my lips before my eyes are drawn again to the stage as the spotlights turn on.

Music starts playing and this time it's a group performance. The curtains lift and I see them all standing there in Moulin Rouge corsets. All eyes are drawn to Hydra - Sparky - at the front. Her thigh is exposed, with her dragon tattoo embracing it. Every move she makes is followed by the others in perfect sync, as if they're connected to her rythm. I watch captivated, intrigued by her undeniable presence on stage.

My eyes scan the booths around me, only to make a feeling of jealousy and annoyance swell within me. All these insufferable dogs, ogling over these women. Ogling over Her. Damn it, I'm so frustrated and my hand is itching to snatch out my gun and put a bullet in all their heads. But my business self intervenes in my thoughts. I've already shot six people this week alone; sure they were nobody's and it gave me satisfaction, but I have to maintain a good reputation, at least in here.

I lean back, feeling the soft cushions of the booth press against my back as I slowly move my glass in small circles before bringing it to my lips. My eyes are locked on her—her movements, her hair, her earrings, her waist, her hips, her lips, her eyes, her thighs.

Her thighs.

Fuck. What I'd give to shove my face between her legs and hear her scream my name. I'm no better than a man now, and all I want is to have her - and I will have her.

I'm spending more than a thousand bucks tonight alone just so she can be assigned to my booth. Fuck sake, I need to get a grip. I can't lose my status or fortune for some woman who makes me go wild with just a look. But damn is this a challenge. With any other woman it wouldn't be an issue; damn, I've had so many one night stands I've lost count. But her? She makes me act out of character with a pokerface and composed posture. Every time I witness someone glancing at her, I'm overcome by an intense urge to jam a knife into their eyes and crush their skull against the unforgiving surface of a table. The seething hatred and rage inside me make me want to murder them. This isn't anything new for me.

She has this magnetic pull on me and I loathe it. The performance comes to an end and I immediately make a beeline for the bar.

"Michael."

"Oh, good evening Mallory. Are we enjoying ourselves?"

My eyes try their hardest to not look down to this man's horrible, horrible taste in suits and lean on the counter. "Does your club have escort prices?"

"Only certain girls do it, since thats something i let them choose. Do you have someone particular in mind?"

Hydra.

But i don't blurt it out like a high schooler, instead i shake my head and give him a faint shake. "Nobody in particular just yet, could you just relay to me which ones do it?"