~MOUSE~
The pulsating bass of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club.
Her gold heels clicked against the glossy black floor as she followed the brown-haired girl through the maze of tables and dancers, weaving through the crowd like a seductive phantom.
Dim, coloured lights bathed the private section in an otherworldly red glow, casting enchanting shadows on the walls.
Ophelia's heart quickened with each step as she entered the exclusive domain.
As they arrived at their destination, Ophelia's gaze widened in awe at the sight that awaited her.
Above a small platform stage hung two crimson aerial silks, suspended gracefully from the ceiling like silken serpents poised to dance.
The play of light accentuated the sensuous curves of the fabric.
A mischievous smile played on Ophelia's lips.
Oh, she had to be the luckiest girl of all time.
This was something she could do, and well.
Very well.
Dimitri would not know what hit him.
"You're breaking my orders, Sergeant," König's deep voice said in her ear but they both knew it wasn't just about his orders.
She shot a smile over her shoulder as the brown-haired girl left.
As Ophelia stood at the side of the stage in the dark she rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.
"Trust me, this will work, he takes the girls to fuck in his office and when he does I'll have access to the files as well as whatever I can pry from him," she said quietly, making sure no one saw her supposedly talking to herself.
She paused, her attention fixated on the red aerial silks that hung before her like a tantalizing challenge.
König was silent.
The only thing she could hear was the crackle of his comm as he seemed to be controlling his breathing.
Oops, now she had to put him on her 'officially pissed off at you' list.
"Zeus?" she asked softly.
They had to know she was right.
This was the best option.
It wasn't about feelings or pettiness.
It was about getting the intel they needed.
"I'm used to this. It's my job, it's why I'm Mouse. I sneak in cause a distraction, and while everybody's busy, I take what I can," She said as she watched the silks descend further from the roof.
She needed to get up on that stage soon, and if she didn't get demands she'd have to purposefully break two of her team leaders' orders.
"Trust me, König," she said his name softly as she watched the silks descend.
She could do this.
She had done it before and she was good at it.
No one ever suspected her.
"König, you got eyes on her?" Zeus's voice cut through the quiet, injecting a sense of urgency.
He knew she was right, but he was not in the field.
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.
It cascaded down, pooling around her feet like a crimson tide, a provocative spectacle that demanded attention.
The men in the room shut up immediately, their eyes transfixed on her.
The silence intensified, punctuated only by the soft rustle of fabric and the palpable tension that gripped the air.
Ophelia stood clad in the lace lingerie bodysuit that left little to the imagination, poised between the crimson aerial silks.
An embodiment of confidence and allure that had Dimitri leaning forward in his seat.
With a slow, deliberate movement, she traced the contours of her body, the lace lingerie clinging to her like a second skin.
Her hands rolled over her body as she wound one of the silks around her frame.
Each sway of her hips was a mesmerizing invitation, an artful tease that left the room trapped on her.
As the first notes of a sultry melody enveloped the space the red silk embraced her, cradling her form.
With the grace of a seasoned seductress, she began to ascend, the lace lingerie revealing glimpses of the captivating silhouette beneath.
The silk wrapped around her, teasing the men below as they sat in rapt silence.
Her gold heels wrapped around the silk as she hung high in the air.
The aerial ballet unfolded with a hypnotic rhythm, each movement a testament to Ophelia's mastery of both silk and sensuality.
The lace was adorned with intricate patterns that crossed over her golden skin.
All the while, her eyes remained on Dimitri.
It was part of the game.
She twirled and twisted, the red silk enveloped her in a tantalizing embrace.
Her movements became a seamless fusion of elegance and eroticism.
The lace lingerie, now a mere suggestion, clung to her form like a lover reluctant to part.
The room, bathed in the sultry hues of red and shadow, echoed with the soft rustle of silk and the rhythmic beat of the music.
Ophelia's gaze, intense and magnetic, stayed on Dimitri and he had definitely noticed as he stared at her, leaning back in his chair.
She could see the lump in his pants already.
She flipped upside down, arching her back as the silk hung around her.
"This plan has definitely worked, just an I told you so," she whispered with a slight huff in her breath as she swung her hips and let her body drop a little, the silk curling around her legs and hips.
"Hör auf zu reden," she heard his tense voice in her ear and she scoffed.
She might not have understood the words but she could tell from his tone they were not an agreement.
As the final strains of the music echoed through the private section, Ophelia, wrapped in the crimson silks around her body began a mesmerizing descent.
The room, still bathed in the afterglow of her captivating aerial ballet, watched in collective awe as she spiralled downward with exquisite grace.
The silk, caressing over her glided across the room and hugged her body tight.
As she landed back between the silks, the room stayed silent, all the men staring at her.
The air was charged with a palpable energy, the lingering echoes of the performance lingering like a sweet, intoxicating fragrance.
Ophelia stood, the silks swaying around her like an ethereal halo, her eyes locking onto Dimitri.
In the dimly lit corner, Dimitri beckoned her with a subtle nod and a pat on his lap.
The invitation hung in the air, a silent command that demanded obedience.
Ophelia turned around and bent over, moving her dress off the stage and letting it flop to the floor.
"Got him," she said softly in the comms but heard nothing in response but crackling silence.
With a sultry smile, she rose and approached the man in the corner, the swaying silks framing her every movement.
With a languid grace, she perched on his knee, the lace lingerie hugging her tight, long gold heels laced around her bare legs.
Dimitri's eyes, smouldering with a mixture of desire and intrigue, locked onto her.
His deep Russian accent resonated in the intimate space as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on where she perched.
He thought he had her trapped.
Men were too gullible.
"Ty samaya krasivaya malen'kaya shtuchka, kotoruyu ya kogda-libo videl," You're the most beautiful little thing I've ever seen.
Dimitri's gravelly voice cut through the ambient air, the compliment laden with a potent mixture of admiration and possession.
Ophelia's lips curled into a seductive smile in response, her gaze locked onto his with an intensity that said she wanted him.
She stayed in his lap as he drank and talked to his business partners.
She listened quietly, nothing was interesting going on apart from a few names she heard Zeus taking down.
It was going smoothly.
That was until she felt his hands on her.
She tried not to wince as his soft hands ran over her body.
They were hands that said he'd never lifted a finger in his life.
Ophelia, the embodiment of allure and desire, remained perched on his lap.
Letting him run his hands over her back. Her arms, her breasts and eventually between her thighs.
She remained calm, her smile never leaving as she sat quietly and obedient.
She knew when to pick the right time.
"Ich werde ihn verdammt noch mal umbringen," the mumbled words were filled with burning fury and she tried not to let her discomfort show.
Somehow, she knew he could see it.
The subtle rise and fall of her small chest was covered by Dimitri's hand as he squeezed, not even looking at her as he spoke to the man next to him.
She felt sick as she tried not to shoot him right then.
His other hand came further up her thighs before landing on the cold metal of the knife strapped there.
He stopped talking, his head spinning in her direction as he stared down at the spot his hand was in.
Dimitri's eyes, dark pools of intensity, fell upon the holster strapped to Ophelia's thigh.
His mouth dropped a little as he stared at the hunting knife covered in red lace.
He used both hands to push her legs open and stared at the glint of the silver against her skin.
There was no trace of apprehension in his gaze.
Instead, he regarded the potential threat with searing lust.
The small lump in his pants grew as he saw the knife.
He didn't think she was a threat.
Dimitri's smirk spoke volumes.
He reached down, his hand tracing the outline of the holster and the concealed knife.
Fingers ran over her skin and she grit her teeth through her smile.
"It has to be my fucking birthday," Dimitri's soft words in English, laden with excitement, hung in the air.
His accent was thick, but compared to König's, it was ugly and twisted.
The anticipation in his voice, coupled with the devilish glint in his eyes, hinted at a fascination with the knife that drew her in.
Ophelia's smile widened to a wicked expression that concealed the whirlwind of thoughts and calculations beneath.
She hated this, but she was good at it.
Usually, it was fun, but with König watching, she felt like she was doing something wrong.
Recognizing the glint in his eye, the way he moved and his disposition, Ophelia smiled sweetly.
He was a sadist.
And that made this so much easier.
Leaning forward, she placed her hand on his chest, her touch feather-light yet laden with charm.
The room, still caught in the spell of their clandestine exchange, watched with bated breath as Mouse, a master of manipulation, played her cards.
"YA znayu, ty lyubish' krasnyy," I know you like red. She purred in a soft, Russian accent, deliberately altering her voice to appear more vulnerable, the tones softer and higher.
Her words hung in the air like an invitation, a calculated move to feed into Dimitri's perceived preferences.
His eyes snapped to her face as he heard her voice, and Ophelia could almost taste his satisfaction in the air.
She had him pegged.
Dimitri, underestimating her, believed her to be a pawn in his game.
Ophelia's words, delivered in a soft, feigned vulnerability, hung in the air like a provocative invitation.
"I thought you could paint me with it," she murmured in English, the suggestion dripping with a sensuous allure.
She knew no one would have ever offered him the same deal.
She could tell by the way his mind seemed to go blank, his eyes turning a shade so close to black she almost saw no reflection at all.
With a deliberate and seductive movement, she curled her golden-heeled leg, allowing the knife to press against her soft skin.
She turned the pain off as the blade drew a thin line of blood.
A crimson trail that trickled down her thigh.
Dimitri's eyes dilated, a primal reaction to watching the blood flow down her skin.
Ophelia maintained eye contact with Dimitri, her smile still laced with a wicked charm.
"I'll be in my office," he declared to the men in the room, his voice authoritative, and Ophelia's smile deepened.
Got you motherfucker.
Dimitri's command cut through the lingering tension in the room, and Ophelia slid off his knee with a calculated grace.
Her heels clicked gently on the floor.
The men around him scattered, sensing the shift in the atmosphere as Dimitri announced his departure.
His unspoken invitation for her to follow did not go unnoticed as he inclined his head.
With a seductive glint in her eyes, she fell in step just behind him, a deliberate choice that played into her feigned submission.
As Ophelia followed Dimitri through the club, a hard voice crackled in her ear, breaking the silence that enveloped her.
"Nice work, Mouse," Zeus's words, a distant echo in the shadows, brought a subtle smirk to her lips.
The acknowledgement of her work gave her satisfaction, she was the best at what she did.
The rhythmic pulse of music and the muted chatter of the crowd surrounded them as they approached a large glass staircase guarded by five imposing figures.
The men nodded respectfully to Dimitri as he passed, their hungry gazes shifting to Ophelia as she followed closely behind, that wicked smile still painted on her blood-red lips.
The air was thick with a palpable hunger, a reflection of the enigma she had become in the eyes of those who watched from the shadows.
She could have laughed.
They did not want what she was about to give Dimitri.
~~~~~~~~~~
TRANSLATIONS
German
"Hör auf zu reden," - Stop talking
"Ich werde ihn verdammt noch mal umbringen," - I'm going to fucking kill him