The Mouse and The Monarch

32

It all depended on what König said.

Ophelia's gaze subtly scanned the surroundings, her eyes narrowing as she sought the hidden eyes that observed her every move.

Cameras, windows, or discreet agents in the crowd – the possibilities played out in her mind like a chessboard of surveillance.

She guessed he was watching from out the front helicopter that sat a few yards away.

It wouldn't have taken Callisto long to hack the cameras.

"Affirmative," came Konig's strained response, his voice indicating nothing but detachment.

Ophelia couldn't help but feel a surge of annoyance at him.

This was her job.

This was both of their jobs.

He was being weird about it for no reason.

He fucked her, so what.

He made it clear that was all it was.

So why was he so pissed right now?

"Proceed. And good thinking on the spot, Mouse," Zeus commended, his approval ringing in her earpiece.

She smiled a little at his compliment.

The silks finally touched the ground and she watched as the lights in the room dimmed, a subtle spotlight hitting the silks as they danced.

She stepped forward, letting the dress reveal her legs as she walked.

Before she got to the stage she looked up at the camera in the corner of the room and shot it a wink.

She knew König was watching.

And she knew he had seen it when she heard a slight huff of amusement from her earpiece.

With a dancer's grace, she stepped onto the platform, the soft thud of her gold heels resonating in the intimate space.

The gold ribbons danced up her legs like glittering serpents as she moved.

All eyes spun her way as the small spotlight illuminated her.

Her eyes, a blend of determination and allure, scanned the room, noting the presence of at least twenty men.

The air was thick with a heady mixture of anticipation, cigars and alcohol.

Her focus was unwavering as she sought out Dimitri, seated amidst the shadowy figures with a glass of amber liquor in hand.

Her eyes met his and she smiled.

The subtle clinking of glasses and hushed murmurs formed an ambient backdrop, but for Ophelia, the world condensed on the man who had unwittingly become her target.

As she walked to the centre of the stage, the red aerial silks curled around her body like vipers.

Ophelia felt the weight of Dimitri's gaze on her.

The intensity of his stare, a magnetic force that drew her in, did not escape her notice.

The heat in his eyes ignited a spark of satisfaction within her.

The first subtle triumph in her intricate game.

She had him already.

He just didn't know it yet.

With a fluid motion, she reached and grasped the fabric of her dress, fingers gliding sensually over the material.

The dress, a delicate barrier between her and the eyes that watched, surrendered willingly to her command.