The Persada Club is an extremely elite executive club. You don't necessarily need to have money to attend, but you do need to be in the right place at the right time with the right people. It's one of my favorite clubs in New York. Conducive to doing business, because no one here cares what the other is doing.
I place my hand on the base of Angelic's spine. She looks around her, curious as always, anxious as always. Her steps are slow, for she wants to see everything her eyes can reach.
After leaving her father's office, she was already in the living room. She was already mine - almost legally - but I politely invited her to come with me.
The Persada is on the top floor of one of the steepest buildings in town. The music is loud, but not as loud as in a nightclub. The lighting is dim which facilitates any illegal trade that might take place. And believe me, they are coming.
Most people are at tables or in private booths, but some venture onto the dance floor. There are also dancers on stage; pretty women, scantily clad, to tone down the crowded vibe this place usually gives off.
If the Nazis had won the war, they would certainly have frequented Persian.
I'm taking Angelic to the club. I try to ignore the looks it attracts because even though I bought it, I still can't wrap it in a plastic bag so as not to attract attention. She's like that, sensual by nature. When they look at her, they don't just feel desire. People feel admiration.
Decidedly, the red dress stuck to the body would not go unnoticed. Not to mention the Louboutins on the feet. However, she looked no less beautiful in pajamas.
The cabins are small spaces surrounded by soundproof glass, with two velvet sofas - like in brothels - and a side table. When we reach ours, I open the door and press my hand against Angelic's back. However, she does not enter. Not after seeing that there's already someone inside the cabin. A woman, specifically.
The woman in the cabin answers for Victoria. I never knew your last name, and maybe no one did. However, who am I to judge people who hide their identity?
Victoria is tall, fair-skinned as someone who has never been in the sun, but her dark hair contrasts well. Her makeup is light except for her signature red lipstick.
- Let's go - I encourage Angelique to come in.
She hesitates for another second, then enters. I close the door behind us, then the sound is muffled.
Victoria stands up to greet us. She's a classy woman, but not the pretentious type. Her elegance is in her posture, in her mischievous look that lacks nothing, in her politeness and in the way she always looks you in the eye.
- Heart - Victoria puts a hand on my shoulder and greets me with two kisses on the cheeks. Then he holds out his hand to Angelique. For a minute, I think she's not going to take it because she's defensive. I feel Angelic's body tense, but she accepts the outstretched hand.
- You took your time - remarked Victoria coming back to sit on the sofa.
- Traffic - I answer.
It is a necessary lie. If I had to explain that I was late because I was running errands for the woman next to me, it would take longer than us.
Angelique indicates that he is going to sit on the couch opposite Victoria. However, I grab her wrist and point to Victoria's side. I want to have both in my line of sight. Angelique because it's my responsibility, and Victoria because we have business to attend to. She purses her lips, but obeys.
Angelique and Victoria sitting side by side, I take a seat on the sofa opposite them.
- Fine - Victoria leans forward and pours herself two glasses of white wine - How long have you been in America? - She hands one of the glasses to Angelique, who accepts it to everyone's surprise.
"A few months," I said.
- Have you seen Yolande? She started a new business.
My eyes are on Victoria, but my full attention is on the blonde next to her. Angelique looks at the stage, where the dancers are, and seems to be having fun. Her eyes are on the women and she frowns as they begin to undress. A striptease is the least shocking thing she'll see around here.
I'm talking to Victoria for the next five minutes. In the meantime, Angelique finishes her glass of wine. She didn't take her eyes off the stage for a second, even when it was empty. In other words, he deliberately ignores us.
- Do you work together? - I hear the question, and I'm surprised to see that it comes from Angélique.
- Curious question - Victoria smiled. She turns completely to Angelique - We lend favors. I need him sometimes and he helps me. Afterwards, when he needs me, he doesn't ask twice.
- Who needs a favor today?
- I.
I appreciate Victoria for her description. I never needed to ask for your silence. She knows what she's doing, and does it well. Indicate.
And not. I didn't bring Angelic to see me talk about work. I brought her because I vividly remember a few days ago when she was dancing right next to me. However, I must admit that your inconvenience worries me.
- Interesting - Angelique gets up, placing the glass on the side table between us - I'm going to find a bathroom - she says looking at me.
- It is downstairs. First Hall, Second Gate - Victoria Guides.
Angelic accepts, then leaves. For a brief second, I consider the possibility of accompanying him. The last time I left her alone, she came across a body hanging from the ceiling of her lawyer's office.
I'm about to get up when Victoria says:
- She doesn't know, does she?
Deep breath. I know what your question is about.
This is not obvious ?
Would she be here by any chance if she knew I was hired to arrange her funeral?
I stare at Victoria with a raised eyebrow, both at her rhetorical question and at her naivety in thinking I would answer it.
- Alright - she raises her hands - From the way you look at her, I just thought you were together.
- The way I look at her?
Like someone who just bought her and doesn't want to see her get in trouble?
- Yes, sweetheart - she leans forward - As if she would break if you looked away for a fucking second.
I almost backtracked. Angelic is one of the strongest women I have ever met. I didn't even think for a second that it might break. And it's not a matter of physical strength, it's an emotional matter. This is the story of a girl who sacrificed her life to be faithful to her family. So I almost replied. Almost.
- But I feel obliged to say it - whispers Victoria - If they find out that you have a weakness...
- Jesus - growl - Weak point? Really Victoria?
Yes, I admit that I was wrong with Angelic. I was wrong to approach the woman who should have been my target. I was wrong to allow myself to see her as a woman and not as a job. But that just means she's pretty and I'm attracted to her. Doesn't mean I'm about to put a ring on your fucking finger.
- Whoever spoke is gone - Victoria pours herself another glass of wine.
- Concentrate, Victoria - I'm asking - What do you need?
I didn't come here for couples therapy.
Victoria begins to tell her problem. He's not a drug dealer, he's just a middleman. She knows who is selling and who wants to buy, so she closes the gap. It's the cleanest dirty work there is. There's never blood on your hands, but there's always money in your pocket.
I pay attention to your every word. However, at a certain point, I realize that the music has stopped and being observant forces me to wonder why. The DJ starts talking, then I'm torn between listening to Victoria and listening to her.
I watch the reflection of the door in the cockpit window, waiting for the moment when Angelique will enter. I calculate how long it would take him to get away from the people in the club, then get downstairs and walk to the bathroom. No more than fifteen minutes. I glance at my wristwatch and realize it's been twenty years.
- Look what we have on stage today - the DJ's voice catches my attention, making me realize I've stopped listening to Victoria - You're the most beautiful thing in the world. Will you tell me your name?
The club people shout, euphoric. The music still hasn't come back.
I force myself to pay attention to Victoria. It's my job, whoever the blonde is over there. Angelic is an adult and she knows the way back to the cabin. She lived more than twenty years without my supervision.
"And I don't know how you can cross the border," Victoria said, pursing her lips in disgust. However, at the same time, the DJ announces:
- You're a little devil, aren't you?
That does not bother me. I really don't give a fuck who's on stage. However, these words catch my attention.
Little devil?
I do what I had tried to avoid: I divert my attention to the stage. And damn it, I wish I had continued to avoid it.
Angelique is on stage. But who would say, no?
Hell of a woman!
I get up while Victoria is still talking and leave the cabin. I see red and I don't even know how to explain the reason for my anger. Wasn't it obvious that she would make a joke?
People upstairs crowd the railing to see Angelic on stage. I try to be quick going up the stairs, but it seems like everyone has decided to get out of their office and cubicle.
Angelic smiles at something the DJ says in his ear, away from the microphone. And now she wears a tiara with devil horns. Excellent!
I go down the stairs two by two.
If Angelic is drunk, this DJ is in serious trouble.
And if Angelic is sober, then she's in serious trouble.
As I take the stage, jostling the people in front of me, my eyes are fixed on the DJ's dirty little hands. He hugs Angelic around the waist, continuing to talk to him privately, away from the microphone. And the worst part is that she seems to appreciate this attention. From the attention of the whole club turned only and exclusively to her.
Arrived on stage, I have to push a man who already has several tickets in his hands, ready to put on Angelic's dress.
Sincerely...
Discretion has always been my favorite trait. To be invisible, to go unnoticed and to be able to observe without being observed. However, when I walk up the stairs on stage and approach Angelic, I feel like all eyes in the world are on me. But I don't care. I'm blind as a rodeo bull, and all I see is the red on her dress.
Leaning over, I grab Angelic's legs and throw his body over my shoulder. She squeals in surprise and I swear to God I hear her laugh. Laughter that I prefer to ignore, because I already feel too angry.
The DJ does not protest, on the contrary, he walks away with his hands raised in a sign of peace.
I hold your legs with one hand, and the other rests on your buttocks, so as not to run the risk of showing more than necessary.
Angelic doesn't protest. In fact, she doesn't even look surprised.
I get off stage. I don't feel angry anymore. It would be very close to what I really feel. I make my way through the crowd to the stairs, and I know everyone is watching us; some were trying to figure out what happened, some thought it was funny, and some were angry that I disturbed the little show.
As I go back upstairs, the DJ says:
- This one belongs, boys.
Shortly after, the music starts playing again.
So those were the issues Elliot was facing when he got her? I'm about to return this issue, and I wouldn't even need the money.
Angelic swings her legs and moans, so I put her down. In fact, I'm curious why she was on stage.
- You are drunk - I accuse.
She adjusts her dress, and I take this opportunity to clear my mind. I don't know why Angelic did what he did. But other than that, I don't know why I did what I did! I run my hands through my hair. She wanted to be on stage, and what did I have to do with that? Why did I look for her?
- Nope. I just had a drink - Angelic Answers.
What...
- So you did it on purpose? Because? I ask, then realize my voice is rising. I close my eyes and breathe deeply - To attract attention?
Nothing I do or think can calm me down. Damn, he had his hands on her. I could cut off those dirty little fingers for a lot less. When I open my eyes again, Angelic is staring at me. There's just a blue streak around the large dilated pupils of his eyes.
"Your attention," she whispers.
I can't remember the last time I was speechless. I don't think that actually happened. But now I have trouble figuring out what to say, so much so that I swallow hard.
Did she want my attention? Shit, I was just a few feet away.
Unless...
- Were you jealous? - I ask.
She looks away, but doesn't deny it.
Oh, little devil. My attention was never on another woman.
- Don't try to play this game with me. I'm not drunk.
Angelique tries to get away from me, walking towards the stairs. However, I grab her wrist and pull her towards me. She let a random DJ play her and she ducks me? Not. Certainly not.
- This is a serious question. Did you feel jealous? - I look her in the eyes, because she can lie to me with her lips, but never with her body language - Say yes - I ask.
- Because?
Your breasts are glued to me. I can feel your slow, heavy breathing. One of my hands cups her wrist, the other grips her waist.
- Because I felt - I admit it - I felt jealous of you on this stage, with all these men who looked at you and wanted to remove this little dress from your body.
Blue irises sparkle and an arrogant smile dominates her lips. That's why she's mine, because we're equal in different ways.
- Isn't that what you want too?
The anger I felt towards her turns into something else. I still want to put my hands around his neck and smack him, but now for other reasons.
- Yes - I say - The difference is that none of them will touch you. Neither them nor anyone.
Does she have any idea what I would do with this DJ? What would I do with a man trying to get what's mine?
- So women can't? - smile grows on his mouth.
- Stop playing with me, Angelic - I push the hair back from his neck and move closer. The perfume she chose for tonight is really good, and I take a deep breath. I breathe it. I bury my nose in the crook of his neck - Let me dream that someone else touched you - I threaten.
- Dance with me and stop mumbling - she teases.
Complain?
I smile. I always knew that women were the worst on earth. Lilith is proof of that, isn't she?