Stone Rich: Her 1st Experience

Chapter Sixteen: The Act Begins

Sebastien strode into Club Escape with the weight of anticipation pressing against his chest, each step deliberate and calculated. The dim lighting of the club cast shadows across the decadent room, where bodies intertwined in various states of undress, indulging in their deepest desires. The scent of leather, sweat, and lust filled the air, setting the scene for what he anticipated would be the night that changed everything. Tonight, Malaya would fall into his trap—whether she knew it or not.

He took a seat at the bar in the commons area, a space he rarely occupied. This part of the club was more of a social ground, where the patrons indulged in conversation or watched the scenes unfold before them. He preferred the private rooms—the places where control was absolute. But tonight, he needed to be where he could keep a careful eye on the entrance.

Sebastien ordered his usual—whiskey, neat—and nursed it, his gaze fixed on the entrance. His body was tense with the hunt, the thrill of knowing that Malaya was coming, that she had walked straight into the situation he had set in motion. He imagined how she would look, how she would react when she saw him, and the way her defiance would crumble when the night was over.

Just then, a familiar presence slid up beside him. A soft hand trailed across his chest, the fingers tracing the lines of his muscles through his shirt. Sebastien looked down to see Shanice, her eyes sultry, lips curved into a smile as she pressed herself closer.

"Bash," she purred, surprised and pleased, "I didn't expect to see you here tonight. No text, nothing. What brings you here?" She tilted her head, her eyes filled with curiosity, but also something more. She was fishing, clearly wanting to know why he hadn't responded to her messages.

Sebastien gave a short nod, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. "Busy," he replied, his voice low, but his attention was elsewhere. He was scanning the entrance, waiting for her.

Shanice bit her lip, letting her fingers playfully linger on his chest, lowering her voice to a sultry whisper. "I heard you might be stopping by tonight. Thought I'd wait and see for myself." Her eyes trailed over his face, clearly expecting him to continue the conversation, maybe even pick up where they had left off before.

But just as Sebastien was about to offer some excuse, the door opened, and Malaya walked in.

Time seemed to slow.

His breath hitched as he took her in. She wore a mini halter dress in a sinful shade of red that clung to her body like a second skin. It hugged her curves perfectly, the deep neckline revealing just enough to tease, and the black stiletto heels she wore made her legs seem endless. The dim lighting reflected off her glowing skin, and her confident stride, even in this unfamiliar territory, made his pulse quicken.

Sebastien had to catch himself from openly staring, from letting his jaw drop at the sight of her. She was more than he had imagined. Malaya radiated a mixture of strength and sensuality that he hadn't been prepared for. Her dark hair was slicked back, drawing attention to her face, to the sharpness of her features and the fire in her eyes.

She came to play.

Shanice noticed his distraction and turned to see what—or who—had stolen his attention. Her eyes narrowed when they landed on Malaya, and she let out a soft, knowing scoff. "Her?" she muttered, more to herself than to him, clearly not pleased with what she saw.

Sebastien didn't respond. He was too focused on the way Malaya's eyes scanned the room, taking in the decadence, her face unreadable. The tension between them was palpable even from across the room. She didn't notice him yet, and that only added to the thrill.

But before Sebastien could move, before he could get up and claim her attention, Jack appeared. He whisked Malaya into a slow, calculated conversation, guiding her through the club. Sebastien's eyes followed them, a surge of frustration and desire rising in him as Jack took her on a tour of his domain.

This was his game.

Jack didn't belong in it, but Sebastien knew his friend well enough to understand that he was playing his own part, testing boundaries, and pushing Malaya toward the very edge where Sebastien wanted her.

He sipped his whiskey, the warmth of the liquor doing little to settle the heat coursing through his veins. He felt the pull between himself and Malaya, the invisible string tightening with every step she took deeper into the club. Her presence demanded his attention, and Sebastien's control, the very thing he prided himself on, was starting to fray. He had planned for this moment, but Malaya was throwing every calculation off balance.

His pulse quickened as he imagined the night unfolding. The tension between them would reach a fever pitch, and by the end of the night, Malaya would know exactly what kind of game they were playing. He would break her—he was sure of it.

But for the first time in years, Sebastien wondered just how much he would have to break of himself in order to do it.