(#1 Book in the dance series)
Estelle Beaufort, a 25y/o Academy student that dropped out of her university on impulse and regrets it till this day. She tried finding jobs but ended up in a place she despised. The popular stripjoint "The Pink Rose"...
I strut towards the booth where Fedorov has seated herself and as I get closer, my anger boils within me.
The blatant disrespect.
Emotions fire through my veins yet I put on a blank expression and stand in front of her booth.
"I'm claiming this booth, ladies." I sneer as I look at the girls' distaste for my intrusion. They are far from happy that I have urged them out of their seat. Well, Fedorov's seat. I watch as the girls get up and saunter away from me towards some other booths, my serving tray clutched firmly against my hip. Fedorov looks up with a dead pan face as usual while she sips her whiskey. She raises an eyebrow at me, almost as if she's expecting me to apologize for shoo'ing those girls away. I slam my tray on the table in front of her, seeing a slight curve form on her lips.
"You've got some explaining to do Fedorov," I snarl. "What kind of game are you playing? This certainly isn't the one we agreed to months ago." My gaze is unyielding, and I clench my fists in fury; I could punch her in her face right now. Her smug face only further enrages me.
"Oh, but it is," she replies smugly, causing me to have to take a deep breath to prevent myself from leaping over the table and attacking her."You really are a lying cunt, aren't you?" I spit out, narrowing my eyes at her. She gives me a shrug.
"Now, such accusations, Sparky."
"Cut it with the nicknames," I cut her off, clearly not amused. "You think you can just toy with me?" I snarl angrily. She looks me up and down slowly, her amber eyes lingering on my skin, sending a wave of warmth through me.
"Even if I were, you would be my favorite." She smirks, shooting me a seductive wink above the edge of her glass as she takes a sip. I feel my breath catching in my throat as I try to come up with something to say, but only silence escapes from my lips.
"Why is there no information about you online?" I burst down the door with the question that has been lingering on my mind for past months. Mallory just looks at me but I can't seem to read her expression. "You're like that one fucking cousin your grandma talks about but no one ever remembers actually meeting." I sneer.
"I see someone's been snooping around for information about me. I'm flattered, darling." an amused grin forms on her lips that send me through a whirlwind of emotions.
"I did not." I protest. "I was just curious."
"Curiosity killed the cat Sparky." She intervenes, shooting an ominous glance back at me. "Stay out of what doesn't concern you."
Is she threatening me!?
My thoughts get abruptly interrupted as I feel a sudden, hard jerk at my arm, causing me to topple onto her lap in shock. "Hey!"
"Let me make one thing clear Sparky." She presses her lips against the shell of my ear making goosebumps appear on my arms. "Sometimes, ignorance is bliss." she whispers in an eerily calm tone with a hint of menace in her voice.
"I know you're involved in something shady, but that doesn't explain why there isn't a single trace of you on the internet. Not a scrap of information at all." I say firmly, determined. My response elicits a mischievous grin and I feel her hand reach up, caressing my back and waist as I remain seated on her lap.
"That's what they say, isn't it? That the less you know, the better..." I can feel her breath on my ear as she purrs, her lips getting closer and closer until she attempts to steal a kiss from me. I move my head to the other side rejecting her.
"And by the way," I add with an attitude. "How dare you leave me without a damn word! Don't you have any decency? I know that I'm just a stripper but fucking christ you'd think after all that shit you told me after the date you'd treat me differently! I demand answers now!" My jaw gets forcefully turned back to face her.
"Don't fucking push me Sparky." She snarls under her breath and for once I genuinely feel fear. I pull myself free from her grip not knowing how to feel at this point. But I know I need to cool off, so I storm backstage and grab my purse, ready to quit on the spot. But then I take a deep breath and force myself to relax.
I need fresh air.
I make my way to the backstage exit and step outside for a moment to catch my breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar car that immediately draws my attention. The same car that has thrown me around so many times before. Her car. Fueled by rage, I stride towards it with my purse and smirk seeing how pristine the Bentley looks. "Such a shame," I snarl before digging into my purse to get my house keys out. I grip the tip of my key tightly in my hand and press it into the side of the car, dragging it viciously across its surface. Over and over again, I gouge at its perfect exterior until the whole side is disfigured by my fury. I glare at the sight before me, reaching into my purse for some lipstick. Climbing onto the hood, I quickly smudge the front window with a vivid red velvet color from its contents. Finally getting off the hood, stepping away from it, I admire my creation.
"Beautiful, now you resemble your owner." I sneer in satisfaction.
'SoMeTImEs iTs bEst to stAy naïVe' I mock her in my head as I turn back to the exit and head back inside, making sure nobody had seen me. But an anxious feeling creeps over me as if I'm scared of the repercussions of what I just did. Gathering my things, I quickly make my way to Micha's office.
"Micha?" Slowly I push the door open and meet his eyes with mine.
"Estella? What's wrong?"
I smile and waddle towards him. "Could I head home earlier tonight? I don't feel well."
"Are you sick?" A concerned expressions shows on his face and I reassure him.
"I don't think so but I've been feeling under the weather so just in case I do get sick and not infect the others."
Micha nods and shoots me a smile. "Of course Estella, go home and rest up. I'll see you tomorrow." I immediately get out of his office and make a beeline for the entrance, not even glancing over at Fedorov who is still sitting somewhere in the booths.
Maybe she rethinks about giving me answers now.
I can't help but smirk as I glance back at the total disaster of a car I've left behind before quickly scurrying away from the crime scene heading home.
This is how they flirt i swear.
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Author's note:
Hey babes, thank you for reading this chapter of "Dance of Affliction"!
I went back to the drawing / brainstorm board for this story and Ohoh do i have some things in store for you loves. >:)
If you enjoy the story so far, consider leaving a like or comment to support my work. It genuinely makes my day! <3
