The club wasn't just a regular club. There was something regal and luxurious about it despite the grinding, sweaty bodies and the smell of alcohol. There weren't much bright neon strobe lights – the place was dim with shadows from the midnight black walls. The captivating aspect about the club was the pure white lights that was the floor. It created the strangest bodies of shadows from the crowd of people dancing around each other. The lights shifted from soft neutral colors and it contrasted well with the lights hanging above the long bar lining the whole right of the building.
There was a lot of bodies within the crowd of vigorous gyration, but one person stood out. Natalia threw her arms up in the air and rolled her hips, swaying her body side to side to the loud Latino music blasting. She felt the base vibrating through her entire body. Hands grabbed her hips and waist only briefly before she shrugged them off. She wasn't searching for anyone – she was only here for herself and nobody else.
Natalia's eyes shot upward when she heard a sharp whistle pierce the air. Her eyes met Kol's from the railing along the second floor and she watched him nod his head toward the entrance way. She smiled at him, waving her hand in a come-here motion. She continued dancing, allowing the lyrics and melody to sweep her through the horde of people.
It was a short amount of time until she saw who was visiting her. She didn't know him personally, but she'd heard of Camila Vargas's right-hand man. James with an unknown last name. Needing as much information on her enemy's/competitors – the only intel she could dig up on him was that he used to be military.
What an enigma he was.
His face was blank, but his body language spoke thousands. He was uncomfortable with the amount of people around him. James was attractive, Natalia immediately deduced with one glance. Light facial hair, a perfect male specimen of structure, those beautiful Hispanic features that made her heart melt a little. She bet he was a biter in bed and he liked giving it a little rough – to be honest, the thought made her skin warm a bit too high.
Natalia circled until she was behind him, almost his height with her heels on. Her hand brushed the gun tucked behind his jacket and shirt while the other gripped his messily styled hair to angle his head to her ear. "What are you doing in my club, darling?" her English accent was distinct and biting.
Fingers gripped her wrist and even though his grip was harsh, she circled around him with a smile to her painted lips. Natalia pressed her body close to his, grinning wider when his lips pursed with a grimace. His dark eyes expressed that he was not enjoying this predicament he was in, which only added to her amusement. "I'm here on business, Serpentina," he spoke through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes.
"Dancing before business, love, please," Natalia nipped at his earlobe, enjoying it too much when he gripped her hips harder than necessary. "You must've missed the requirement when coming into my territory, darling James. I supposed it escaped your notice when you thought you could sneak your men into my place of peace."
"We didn't sneak in, I simply walked inside," James slid his hands up her waist and sides and she enjoyed the sensation until he suddenly pushed her away none-too-gently. "I am here only on business today and I'm on a tight schedule. Can we talk somewhere private, Serpentina?"
Natalia licked her lips seductively, winking. "Only because it's way too sexy when you say my name like that." She eyed him for a moment more before releasing a light laugh, gripping his hand in her manicured one as she led him toward the bar. She nodded to her barista, Angela, and the woman opened the back door for them as soon as they approached. "Thank you, baby," Natalia allowed James to go inside first.
She didn't miss the way he scanned his surroundings. He was a very cautious man, she could tell. It made him even more appealing in appearance. As soon as they walked the stairway that led to the railing that led to the DJ near the front, she slid past him and led the way toward the back of the club. And she made certain that when she slid past him, there was a teasing brush of their clothes.
He gave no indication of any awareness of it.
And she loved his immunity.
As soon as they approached the mirrored walls, the black door in the middle opened to reveal her Kol. Her best friend and the most loyal comrade she could have ever required. She kissed him on both cheeks in greeting. "Kol, this is James – it seems as though he believes I have business with him."
Natalia walked into her office. It was a large area with three crème leather couches, a few black lounge chairs, dim lighting and a huge wet bar to the side. She went behind the counter and began making two mixed drinks. "Darling, if you would shut the door on your way out and wait on James here," she scanned him, "I believe this meeting will be short."
James carefully walked over and sat at one of the stools in front of her, his hands clasping the drink she pressed toward him. He didn't move to take a swig even when she took two huge gulps of her own. The liquor scorched down her throat in a smooth, electrifying kind of way. She breathed through her nose and loved the way it burned from the potent liquid.
"I'm kind of insulted that Camila did not come herself, but instead sent her wingman," Natalia smiled at the corner of her mouth. "Not that I am complaining." He was undoubtedly more striking when he was annoyed to her.
"Camila's running a business. You're more out of the way for her, so I came instead."
Natalia scoffed, rolling her eyes. "She certainly knows how to run a business. Not worth investing her own time into what you're really here for doesn't seem very diplomatic on her end." She saw what she said struck a chord as a muscle in jaw ticked with a clench of his teeth. Chuckling softly, she circled the bar and sat down on one of her couches. She didn't speak until he got up and sat across from her. The fire pit between them glowed softly but gave off no heat.
"I am to guess you want a negotiation placed between my company, and your business?" Natalia cooed the words. "I traffic the finest women, drugs, and weaponry – what, do you suppose, can Camilla Vargas offer me?"
James stared at her hard. "Camilla wants the connection to the Russians, but not directly. You're that source." He was blunt and to the point, something surely his boss had told him to be to her. Camila knows that Natalia respected candor.
"I get my weekly shipment," she told him, now very stern. The smile was gone and there was a sharpness in her eyes that wasn't there before. "I will not renegotiate my terms with Viktor, it took me many years to gain his trust. The amount I get will not be altered and I have loyal customers to attend to."
James nodded in understanding. "We don't want you to lose your main source –"
Natalia cut him off, laughing. She was offended, greatly. "Viktor is not my main source, love." She didn't offer any more explanation as she shook her head at his ignorance and naivety. "If I talk to Viktor, what do I get?"
"We don't deal in weapons and women," James told her. "Our business is cocaine. Get one-hundred kilos more added to your shipment, we'll pay you twenty grand for each one that is delivered."
Natalia was becoming entertained with this little boy playing leader. She stood to her feet, walking around the fire pit to perch beside him. She took the untouched drink on his thigh and drowned it quickly, placing it on the table. She sat uncomfortably close to him, her crossed leg almost thrown over his. She felt his whole-body tense at her proximity. "Don't act like you haven't had a woman this close, James… Who's the lucky bitch?"
He huffed gruffly, his eyes cutting to hers dangerously. "Like hell I'd ever speak her name to you."
A smile curved her mouth. Her fingers pinched his jaw and chin as he went to turn his face away. Just as she did, she felt a gun pressing against the back of her head. Natalia blinked slowly as she watched James's eyes shine with vengeance toward his disobedient comrade. "Sueltenlo," a female voice ordered.
Release him.
So, she did. With a bark of laughter. "I suppose I am going to have to get my hands blood tonight," Natalia giggled. "My men have become slack as of late." She stood up quickly and turned on her heel, taking in the trembling hand of the woman and the gun she still pointed at her. "Miedo," she said in Spanish, "such a powerful tool. Point the gun elsewhere, darling, before you lose that shaking hand of yours."
"Theresa, I told you to blend," James shot to his feet as well, shaking off imaginary dust. "She's a mule, Serpentina, and nothing more."
Natalia could see that his words did hurt the woman, even though she kept her face nearly expressionless. "Hm," she hummed thoughtfully. She walked over to the bar and grabbed her cellphone, pressing a few short times on the screen before pressing it against her ear. "Angel, would you please come this way?"
In a few short moments, her barista cracked open the door. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Please escort my guests out of the building."
James opened his mouth, but quickly closed it.
Natalia beamed, walking over and holding out a card in her hand. "Take this. I expect you to bring Camila back with you. I do not finalize deals with wingmen, even very attractive ones."
James was mad for many three distinct reasons now.
One: He had never met Serpentina before. He didn't expect her to be a tall, slender woman. And young. Probably younger than he was. She was the opposite to his Kim. Skin olive toned with Hispanic heritage but very distant, liquid mahogany brown hair that was soft with waves, and when she made eye contact with him he saw that her eyes were emerald green. They almost glowed in the darkness of the club – and how he understood her moniker, but he knew that was the bloodless part of it.
Even from the first look she gave him, she was pure sin. The sway of her hips, the curve of her mouth, the way her eyes scanned him in no way of hiding what she was doing. She attempted to get a rise out of him and now he almost regrets playing hard because she seems more determined to latch her fangs into him.
There was a moment, in different circumstances, that he would think of allowing her. There was something about a woman being forward with what she wanted.
Two: She was a very powerful woman. He hated the tone of voice she spoke with him. He hadn't earned her respect and he was just Camila's right-hand. He knew she was deeply offended by his appearance. Had he known how insulted she would have been then he would've talk his boss into coming instead. They needed this deal badly.
Three: Teresa Mendoza. The woman was going to get herself killed. He saw the bloodlust consume Serpentina's eyes as soon as she felt the mule's gun pressed against her head. An emotion had shifted inside of him at the glint in her green irises. It was registering to him as fear and a shot of adrenaline had coursed through his veins.
So, when he exited the club, he had a tight grip on Teresa's arm. "I gave you a gun for your protection, not so you can use it to get yourself killed," he growled lowly at her. He yanked the passenger door open and didn't wait for her to get inside, already circling to the driver's side.
A mile down the road in complete silence, she finally spoke, "Who is she?"
The question made him frown. "I've never met her. Nobody knows her name, just that she goes by Serpentina."
"Serpentine? A snake?" Teresa crossed her arms. "Why?"
"She's known to be conniving. Hard to deal with, like what you saw when you came inside. She deals with the Russians because she can handle them, so it speaks thousands."
"If Camila's supply been cut short, do you think it's a good idea to play with fire?"
James glanced down at the card he had placed in the cup holder and then glanced outside, rubbing his jaw. "Probably not."
The man's scream was gurgled with his own blood. Every worker in sight had averted their eyes and continued with their own business as usual. They knew the deal: their time under Serpentina's was a paradise until you disobeyed or did not do as instructed.
The man's blood was almost black against the empty dance floor's lights. Natalia handed the blood-dripping knife to Kol, happy that her crème colored dress did not suffer from the man's spray of blood from his slashed throat. "Dispose of this and clean up his fucking corpse," she was in a bad mood.
"Vilken jävla röra," Kol muttered.
What a fucking mess, indeed.
Natalia rounded on him before he could step forward. Kol was a tall, imposing male figure. His sharp gray eyes stayed connected with hers as she stepped over the puddle of blood and she poked him in the chest. "Why did you leave my door unattended, my darling Kol. Du vet bättre." You know better.
Kol's lip curled backward, not fond of when she went against him. Good, because she for sure as hell did not like it either. "There was an incident at the front entrance of the club. It called my attention."
Natalia cocked her head to the side, "Am I not your attention, Kolfennr?"
He regarded her solemnly for a moment before he grabbed her face in his hands, his hands so large that his fingers threaded into her hair. His kiss against her forehead and then chin was something he'd done since they had escaped Europe together. He rested his forehead against hers and murmured, "Ingen nåd."
No mercy.
Those words had built their empire together.
Every time he did this, she felt tears in her eyes. It brought back all the memories she'd buried, the scars she obtained burned with the reminiscence of things that wanted to be forgotten. He swiped his thumbs underneath her eyes and pressed a chaste kiss on her lips, an action that had always been loving but never intimate enough for lovers.
"We will have a meeting soon with Camila Vargas," Natalia told him.
"We will be ready, Talia," he informed her.
The only man who knew her name.
That was alive to say it.