Nobody's pov
The room was thick with silence, the kind that held weight, the kind that made your skin prickle. Beyoncé stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. She was supposed to be in control here—this was her choice, her decision. But now, standing in front of two of the most famous women on the planet, she felt anything but in control.
Rihanna's gaze was steady, cool. She had removed her sunglasses but left her hair down, cascading over her shoulders. Nicki, standing beside her, had a half-smile playing on her lips, the kind that made you wonder what she was thinking. The contrast between them was striking—Rihanna's effortless grace against Nicki's bold presence.
Beyoncé didn't know what to say. Her mouth had gone dry, and her mind raced for an explanation. This can't be real. Why are they here? What do they want from me? She could hear her own breath, shallow and quick, the only sound breaking the silence.
Rihanna stepped forward first, her movements smooth, as if she were in no rush. "I'm guessing this wasn't what you expected," she said softly, her voice low, with that familiar Caribbean lilt. There was a small, amused glint in her eyes, but also something more—something intense that made Beyoncé feel exposed.
Beyoncé managed a small nod, her voice trapped somewhere in her throat. She wasn't sure how to respond. How did you speak to women who could change your life with just a word, a look?
Nicki's laugh broke the tension, though it wasn't entirely warm. "Girl, you should see your face right now," she said, stepping beside Rihanna and folding her arms across her chest. Her eyes glittered with amusement, but her gaze was sharp. "It's okay. We don't bite. Well... not unless you want us to." She winked, making Beyoncé's stomach flip.
Rihanna shot Nicki a look, her expression softening before turning back to Beyoncé. "We didn't want to scare you. This is... different, we know. But trust me when I say, we're here because we're interested."
"Interested?" The word finally slipped from Beyoncé's lips, but it came out weaker than she intended.
Rihanna nodded. "Yes, interested. We've been... looking for something new. Something different."
Beyoncé's mind raced. This didn't make sense. Why would they—two people who could have anyone they wanted—be here with her, offering her money for... for this? She felt her heart pounding in her chest again, a mix of nerves and confusion.
Nicki, ever direct, tilted her head. "We want someone who understands the game but isn't caught up in it. Someone who's discreet, someone who isn't looking for fame or attention. You're not here for that. You're here for the money. Am I right?"
The bluntness of Nicki's words hit Beyoncé like a slap. She wasn't wrong. Beyoncé had signed up out of desperation, out of a need to survive. She wasn't chasing fame. She didn't want any of this to get out. But hearing it laid bare like that felt like being seen in a way that left her vulnerable.
She nodded, her throat dry. "Yeah... the money."
Rihanna took another step closer, and now she was standing only a few feet away. She smelled like something expensive and intoxicating, a scent that made Beyoncé's head spin. Rihanna's eyes softened. "We can help with that," she said gently. "We know this is all probably overwhelming. But we're not here to make you uncomfortable. We just... want to see if this could be something. Something real."
Real. The word hung in the air like a heavy weight. What did that even mean in this context? This was supposed to be a one-time transaction. Something anonymous, simple. Get in, get out. But now, looking at these two powerful women standing in front of her, it was clear this was anything but simple.
