Immediately I set my eyes on him, I know he is the one. Micheal Bavarish. The man I have spent several months tracking. The drug lord who is fronting as a fashion designer. He had given my boss and I many sleepless nights, but tonight marks the end of those nightmares.
As I slowly slide around the dance pole, the strategy on how to capture him solidifies in my mind, while my body syncs with the beat of the song; entertaining the audience with the savage moves I'm putting up for them on the stage.
I watch carefully behind my golden mask, looking out for his every move. Waiting for the right time to approach him.
And while I take the first step towards his table fifteen minutes later, my heart pounds against its cage, hoping that my plan will go perfectly well. If I can seduce him, then I can weaken him. If he goes wild for me, then maybe I can get the confession I need out of him.
"Hey handsome," I say seductively on getting close to him after removing my mask, "Want some good loving tonight?"
I hold my breath when his gorgeous eyes start slicing through my profile, accessing me.
"What a gorgeous girl," he mutters, before sliding his tongue across his lips.
Recalling what Lenita, the chaperone I'd hired to train me said about using what I have to get what I want, I strike a stunning pose for him. Allowing my hands to travel from my plumped boobs through my narrow waist and settling on my hips, in a show off. The crimson coloured one piece I'm putting on accentuating every curve on my body.
I'm not surprised when I watch his eyes darkened with lust. He grabs me by the waist and the next minute, we are leaving the club through the back door.
His hands continues what his eyes started immediately he throws me on the hotel bed. They roam freely, exploring every part of my body. And while he climaxes, the plan on how to get the information I needed off him strengthens and gains momentum in my mind.
When he lets out a deep breath and relaxes his body beside me, I begin with my motives by drawing invisible circles on his chest.
"So… What's your name?" I ask in a lush voice, even though I have crammed his full profile. I could recite everything about him even in my sleep.
My team and I have been tracking his shady deals. Seen him exchange his supplies with his distributors. Reported him to court. We just need a solid confession from him to nail him down in jail for life.
While it had been easy to watch and track him. Getting a willing confession out of him is the harder part of the puzzle to fix. The man is as cunning as a snake. And so secretive that it will only take a genius to crack him. And the fact that he makes little to no mistakes makes him a harder puzzle to crack.
Which is why my boss has resorted to using the seduction game. He insists that every man has a weakness but I doubt if sex could be Micheal's shortcoming.
"Who doesn't know me in this damn city, huh?" he replies, casually throwing me a glance.
I swallow hard as I search my brain for what else to say. I knew he was smart, but I wasn't expecting this reply from him. It definitely threw me off guard.
I climb on top of him, making sure my soft skin caresses his hard body, while whispering, "I know you own the luxurious Bavarish Brand. What I want to know is the man behind such success."
I gasp when his gorgeous gray eyes meet mine. There is something about those eyes that gets me everytime it holds mine.
He starts talking about himself. I stylishly let my hair fall around my shoulder, further concealing the bug I'm wearing inside my ear. I tap on it to make sure it is recording every word that comes out of Micheal's mouth.
The smile that follows me as I step into the office the next day freezes when Dave Petersburg, my boss, says that the confession I got off Micheal isn't tangible enough to nail him down.
"B-but sir…" I start saying.
"But nothing. I need a stronger confession. Dude just blabbed and bragged about his brand throughout the clip. Did any of what he said sound useful to you?" Dave says, eyeing the bug with a thick disdain.
"Aren't you skipping the part where he talked about getting his funding? It's obvious that funding came from an illegitimate source. We could use that."
He turns and glares hard at me, "And you think he won't deny it? That he won't say that he got a grant from the government or something?" His hand goes to his temples. He begin massaging it roughly.
Also getting tired of the argument, I let out a frustrating breath. This is not how I except my first undercover case to go. I am supposed to prove to Dave that I deserve this job. That I can be trusted to handle such an easy job.
"Try again Sarah. Harder this time around." With that, Dave storms out of my office space.
I stare at his receding back through the glass divider, wondering how on earth am I going to get back together with Micheal. He was generous enough to leave me with his personal contact only because we had a great night exploring each other. But what will I say to him if I decide to call?
I contemplate on the possible excuses I could make as I drive home from work. Telling him I couldn't stop thinking about him sounds too cliché. But what if I tell him that I'm in love with him? Will that do the trick?
I pick up the phone to say just that, but I change my mind on second thought. He will probably think that I'm one of those cheap girls that is after him for his expensive lifestyle.
Just then, a third thought pops into my mind. I dial Micheal's number, waiting for him to pick up his call.
Three hours later, I'm sitting at Micheal's spot at the vvip table, waiting for his grand appearance. I take a nervous sip of my Chapman, while watching some of the girl go crazy on stage while entertaining their clients. Lenita is by the side, supervising their movements and giving a thumbs up when the crowd goes wild.
Thirty minutes later, Micheal enters the club with his usual shenanigans—his bouncers spreading dollars into the air for anyone who cares enough for some cool cash.
"Hello Samantha," he says my fake name for the undercover job with such a passionate tone, it almost turns me on, "Want something to drink?"
"Another Chapman will be fine." I say while flashing him a gorgeous smile.
He eyes the drink so distastefully, "Dont you want something more expensive? I can order a champagne is you want."
"That won't be necessary, sir."
"Sir?" One of his bushy brows arches up.
I immediately bit my tongue on realizing how formal I had sounded.
After signalling the waiter for the order, we start talking about random things at first, then we switch to something deeper. Once he begins reflecting on his past, I turn the bug on just in case he says something that will implicate him.
I hold my breath as I anticipate him making a statement that will put him behind bars. What I didn't expect is his next sentence.
"What?" I ask, just to make sure I heard right the first time.
"Samantha Willson, will you marry me?"