Getting my hands on an invitation was easier than I thought, actually, I thought I'd have to try harder and, suddenly, I'm in. So many years planning my revenge and now that's under way I feel nervous and insecure. I guess it is normal, soldiers are always anxious before going into action but everything will be fine, the plan is good and I went over it extensively. I'm not a 19years old innocent girl anymore, the one who walked into the lion's den not knowing what was going to happen, now I'm the one pulling the strings in the shadow and those assholes don't know what's coming to them. Slowly, step by step, I can do this...
I take a deep breath, fixing the jacket of my black suit, plain but impeccably tailored, it looks like it was sewed on my body adjusting to my curves perfectly. Someone could think that I'm going to a funeral, if it weren't for the fact that I'm not wearing a shirt under the waistcoat and because my shoes with stratospheric heels would be very uncomfortable and not suitable to attend a service. My makeup is subtle too, applied to highlight my eyes and cheekbones, I don't need dark shadows in a goth style or lips painted in crimson red to look confident, mysterious and exotic. The fact that I'm not sticking to clichés is what's going to make me different and special. I put a lock of auburn hair behind my ear, the classic ballet dancer bun exposes my long neck and allows me to display my flawless pale skin, another strong point.
I sigh, taking my clutch and getting off my car, walking down the sidewalk with firm steps, trying not to think about breaking my ankle if I trip over these high heels. The Black Orchid has rented a new club in London Soho to hold their party this Saturday, members can mingle in the basement bar and move to the private rooms upstairs to play, if that's what they want. Exhibitionist people don't care when others watch them and they'll find a way to put on a show in the corridors, probably, but there's not much room in this building to organize big group choreographies.
"Act one, scene one. You can do this, Iselen," I think taking a deep breath for the last time before knocking on the door.
"Good evening, madame." A pretty Asian lady bows her head and moves a step back so I can walk into the entrance hall. She's wearing a Chinese qipao made of black silk with small golden flowers embroidered and it's top quality, I know it because I'm an expert in fancy fabrics and can't help smiling approvingly. "Your invitation, please."
"Of course," I answer opening my clutch and taking a black card, like a credit card but without a logo or the name of a bank. The pretty lady takes it with a smile on her face and moves it closer to a card reader that's on the table, right next to a crystal vase full of purple calla lilies.
"Oh, yes, Mrs. Ghandour told us you'd come. Welcome, Miss Alonso. I must ask you to leave your phone here," the receptionist smiles, pointing at some boxes made of fine wood with numbers on the lids, way more elegant than a gym locker. I shake my head, closing my clutch again.
"I'm not carrying my phone, I left it in the car."
"Excellent, thank you. Your hostess is waiting in the bar, to your right and downstairs."
"Thank you," I answer nodding and walking with firm steps on the carpets that protect the hardwood floor. I know the interior designer that was in charge of decorating this club, a man who's a fan of dark shades mixed with some touches of gold metal in an art deco style. I usually prefer my rooms to have more bright colours but I admit he's done a good job.
"Iselen, my dear, I'm so happy to see you here."
"Salma, thank you for inviting me," I answer keeping a kind smile on my face to try to hold back a laughter that would ruin it all.
I have nothing against black leather, in fact, sometimes it's useful to make some tools, but this half biker, half Viking aesthetics that many people seem to link to the BDSM world is not my cup of tea at all. To be brutally honest, only few people have a toned body that allows them to wear these harnesses in all their splendour and yet, they insist on wearing them. Mrs. Ghandour is a lovely woman, I wouldn't say beautiful, but she doesn't look bad and has good curves... that are squeezed by a horrible leather corset while her legs are covered by some high boots that frame her not so slim thighs.
