Chapter 9 Diamond Fontaine

The gold snake slithered in.

Adriano Greco strolled into The Velvet Lounge like he owned the place-which, of course, he did. Every square inch of the club bore his mark. From the gold-accented poles to the red velvet curtains, the dim golden lights, and the seductive throb of bass that made the walls pulse like a heartbeat-it was his kingdom.

Flanking him were Enzo Ricci, Luca Romano, and Marco Varela, each man a predator in his own right, dressed like kings in tailored black-on-black fits, watches glinting, their swagger loud without saying a word.

The music hit them like a slap to the face.

"There's some whores in this house! There's some whores in this house!"

Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion's WAP thundered through the speakers, nearly drowning out the sinful moans and occasional catcalls from the booths and VIP lounges.

The club was alive.

Women with glistening bodies climbed and twirled on golden poles, their micro bikinis barely hanging on, some completely topless, their breasts jiggling as they bounced, twerked, and grinded against the steel. The lights flickered in sync with the beat, and money fluttered through the air like confetti, raining down in endless green showers from men with cash to burn and morals long forgotten.

As they reached the VIP section, a few strippers turned to watch the men enter-like wolves sensing the alpha in the pack.

A tall, lean man in his early 40s-dressed in a burgundy button-down and crisp slacks-spotted Adriano and rushed over. His name was Bradley Knox, the manager of The Velvet Lounge. American. Former Navy. A touch of sleaze but loyal where it mattered.

"Good evening, boss," Bradley greeted, offering Adriano a firm handshake with a grin.

Adriano returned the handshake smoothly. "Bradley."

"Fellas," Bradley nodded toward the rest.

Luca dapped him up with a "My guy."

Marco grinned. "Still letting girls rob these fools blind, huh?"

Enzo adjusted his cufflinks, offering a slick smirk. "Capitalism at its finest."

"Always," Bradley said, laughing. "What can I get you all to drink?"

Adriano leaned back in the plush seat. "Clase Azul. Neat."

"Whiskey for me," Luca added.

"Make mine tequila. Strong." Marco smirked, eyes already scanning the strippers.

"Macallan, twenty-five-year," Enzo said, casually like it was a bottle of water.

"Say less," Bradley replied before vanishing.

Moments later, he returned with a tall, curvy stripper walking beside him. She wore a glimmering micro bikini with chains dangling at the hips, her braids long and sleek, her skin a rich shade of chocolate brown. Her boobs were practically spilling out, her stride confident.

She carried the tray like it weighed nothing, her hips swaying with each step.

Marco whistled as she walked past. "Lord have mercy..."

He watched her ass like it owed him rent. The moment she placed the tray on the table and walked off, he cleared his throat and stood up.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I believe I've found religion."

"Make sure you tithe generously," Luca called after him.

Bradley chuckled, then turned back to Adriano. "Anyone catching your eye, boss? I can bring over whoever you like."

Adriano took a sip of his drink, brows furrowing slightly as he looked around.

That's when he saw her.

A redhead with flawless skin and a body sculpted by like a work of art. Her micro bikini sparkled under the lights. As she danced on stage, a man reached out to grope her ass-and she slapped his hand away without hesitation, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at him with a warning glare that could kill.

Adriano's lips curled into a grin.

"Who is she?" he asked, nodding toward the redhead.

Bradley followed his gaze. "Ah. That's Diamond. Brand new. She just started yesterday."

Adriano watched as she dropped low to the pole, gripping it between her thighs and arching her back as she twerked slowly, rhythmically-an artist in motion.

"Bring her over," Adriano said.

"Right away, boss."

While Bradley went to fetch her, Enzo leaned in. "She's got fire, that one."

"She just slapped a client," Luca said. "I like her already."

A few moments later, Bradley returned, Diamond walking behind him.

Up close, she was even more striking. Red hair with pink and blue streaks. Hazel eyes that gleamed like whiskey. Lips glossy and full. Her breasts bounced slightly with every step, defiant and unbothered.

She stopped in front of them, arms folded.

"So, who's this?" Diamond asked the manager, eyeing Adriano up and down. "Some rich VIP?"

Bradley grinned. "That's your boss, Diamond."

Diamond's brows lifted slightly. She turned fully to face Adriano and scanned him slowly, as if appraising a piece of meat.

"I thought the boss would be some fat, 60-something-year-old sugar daddy," she said. "But damn. You're young."

Adriano let out a low laugh. "I'm also good-looking."

Diamond scrunched her nose. "I've seen better."

Enzo nearly spit out his drink. Luca slammed a hand on the table and howled. Adriano glared at them both.

"Diamond," Bradley warned with a nervous chuckle.

She blinked, then smiled sweetly. "Where are my manners?"

Without missing a beat, she strutted towards Adriano, sat on his lap and leaned in until their faces were barely an inch apart.

Luca's eyes widened. "Oh damn..."

Enzo gave a quiet whistle, sipping his whiskey with one brow raised.

Adriano could barely breathe. Her scent-jasmine, vanilla, and danger-wrapped around him. His heartbeat skipped.

"Hi, I'm Diamond." she whispered. "Diamond Fontaine. What's your name?"

"Adriano," he replied-his voice cracking slightly.

Diamond smirked.

Adriano cleared his throat and waved at Bradley. "Get a private room ready. Diamond here is gonna give me a dance."

Bradley nodded, his eyes wide. "Yes, boss."

-

Minutes later...

The private room was bathed in deep red light. A plush couch sat across from a pole in the center. In the corner, a king-sized bed covered in rose petals hinted at more decadent activities.

Adriano sat back as Diamond sauntered in ahead of him. She played a slow, sultry song over the Bluetooth speaker. Something with deep bass and a seductive female voice crooning in French.

She walked to the pole, turning to face him. Slowly, she began to dance-hips swaying, legs flexing, her every movement dripping with erotic grace. Adriano's mouth went dry. His cock stirred to life, hardening as she slid down the pole and twerked toward the floor.

Diamond noticed. She strutted over and climbed onto his lap, her hips grinding against him. Adriano groaned, tilting his head back.

Her ass moved like liquid fire against his erection. Adriano's hands rose, slowly unhooking her bikini bra.

Her breasts spilled free-round, full, perfect. Adriano dove into them, kissing, licking, sucking. Diamond moaned softly, fingers curling through his hair.

She rolled her hips again and again, rubbing herself over his cock as it strained against his pants. His hands caressed her breasts, her sides, his fingers greedy.

"I want to fuck you," he murmured into her skin.

Diamond pulled back slightly. "The manager told me... no fucking customers."

Adriano met her eyes. "I'm your fucking boss."

Diamond smiled, biting her lip. "Then you'll have to pay up. Because this job? It pays criminally low."

"Yet you're here," he said.

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to pay the bills."

"How much?"

Diamond tilted her head, tapping her lip thoughtfully.

"Twenty thousand."

August's voice dropped low into something dangerous.

"Done."