(VALENTINO'S POV)

I lean against the wall with my drink, swirling it lazily as I wait for her. The club is alive like nothing ever happened, but my head is still buzzing from the way she looked walking off.

Thick thighs. Round ass. That little sparkle from her bikini that barely covered anything. The kind of body that could distract even a man like me, and trust me, I've seen it all.

A couple minutes later she comes back out, now dressed in ripped skinny jeans and a cropped tank top that still showed off more than enough. Her hair's tied up in a messy bun, but a few strands fall loose, brushing her cheeks.

Fuck. She looks even hotter like this.

She flashes me a quick smile, her lips glossy, her bag slung over one shoulder. "All set."

I nod, pushing off the wall. "Good. Let's go."

Outside, the air is cooler, the city still humming with late-night life. The valet is busy with some flashy cars pulling up, but I wave my hand and one of my guys is already pulling up an Uber for her. She stands close, hugging her arms, and I catch the faint scent of vanilla off her skin.

"Rough night," I say casually. "Not the first time some asshole crossed the line?"

She snorts, rolling her eyes. "You'd be surprised. Guys think because we dance half naked, we're basically up for grabs. Like we're not allowed to have boundaries."

I exhale, chuckling low. "Yeah, well you really dealt with him yourself. Can't lie, you got some moves girl. Where'd you learn to fight like that."

She smirks, tilting her head just enough for a few strands of hair to fall loose around her face. Her blue eyes glint in the streetlight, that kind of sharp glint that tells me she's not just another girl who stumbled onto a stage for easy cash.

"Let's just say I've had some practice..." she says, her voice low, a little playful, a little dangerous. Then she leans in closer, her lips brushing the rim of my ear when she adds, "...and I don't let anyone put their hands where they don't belong."

I chuckle, the sound rumbling in my chest, because fuck-she's good. Confident. Not like most girls who just giggle and look away when I throw a question at them.

I pull back to look her over again, slower this time, like I'm trying to read between her curves and her smirk. "Practice, huh? I'll buy that. But something tells me you've done more than just practice."

She doesn't flinch, doesn't stutter, doesn't even try to look innocent. She just smirks wider, crossing her arms under her tits so they sit high and full, almost daring me to keep staring.

"Maybe," she says, shrugging.

My eyes trail over her body again, slow enough that she notices. She bites her lip but doesn't look away.

Ballsy. I like that.

"You're really confident, and feisty. I love that."

She lets out a little laugh, soft but real. "But really," she says, brushing a strand of hair back, "thank you for stepping in when you did. You didn't have to, but... I'm really glad you did."

I play it cool, giving her a lazy grin. "What can I say? I don't like watching my investments get roughed up."

Her lips twitch into another smile, and for some reason, it makes my chest feel lighter. I clear my throat, straightening up a little. "I don't think I've introduced myself properly." I hold out my hand. "Valentino Vipera. Owner of Il Palazzo del Peccato (The Palace of Sin)."

Her eyes flick to my hand, then up to my face, before she slides her palm against mine. Her skin is warm, and so soft.

"I know," she says simply. "I've seen you around a couple times before. And believe me, the other girls can't stop gushing about you."

"Oh really? And what are they saying about me?"

"They think you're hot," she replies. "They're literally dying to get your attention. And that you're drop-dead gorgeous."

I step in closer, closing some of that space between us, lowering my voice just enough to make it sting. "And what about you? What do you think? Am I drop-dead gorgeous?"

Her mouth curves into a sly grin. "Well, I can't lie. You're handsome but..." she shrugs, almost too casually, "...you're not my type."

That makes me laugh. I tilt my head back, letting it roll out of me. "Wow. Way to burst my bubble."

She presses her lips into a thin line like she's trying not to laugh too, and the sight almost makes me forget we're still standing outside my club with half the city buzzing around us.

But then something hits me, and my amusement drops a notch. I narrow my eyes, studying her closer. "Your face... it's not familiar. I know every girl in my club, but I don't remember ever seeing you before tonight."

She doesn't miss a beat. "I'm a new hire. Been working here for about a week now."

That smooth answer makes me smile again. "And what's your name, babygirl?"

Her lips part, her tone dipping into something sultry. "Christina. But you can call me Krystal. With a K."

"Krystal." I roll it on my tongue, nodding. "Nice ring to it. You can call me Val."

"Thanks," she says softly.

Just then, headlights sweep the curb as the Uber pulls up, slowing to a stop in front of us.

"Looks like my ride's here," she says.

Before I can get another word out, she steps in, closing the distance and wrapping her arms around me. I freeze, caught off guard, my brain scrambling to catch up as her body presses against mine.

Her lips hover by my ear, her voice dropping low. "Thanks again, Val. I really appreciate what you did for me tonight."

By the time she pulls back, I'm stiff as a statue. I clear my throat, forcing myself to act like I'm unfazed. "Yeah... sure."

She slips into the car, the door shuts, and she waves at me through the glass. I raise a hand back, watching as the Uber pulls away and disappears down the street.

Only when the taillights vanish do I finally breathe out. My chest is tight. My thoughts, tangled.

That hug... FUCK. It actually rattled me.

I glance down at my wrist to check the time and stop cold.

My watch! The ten million dollar wristwatch I was wearing just now...

Gone.

My gaze shoots down the road, but the car is long gone.

Instead of anger boiling up, a laugh bubbles out of me. Low at first, then spreading into a grin I can't shake.

I shake my head and slip my hands into my pockets then I smirk to myself.

Something tells me this girl's not just another dancer in my club.

No. She's going to be trouble.

And I fucking love trouble.

(KRYSTAL’S POV)

As soon as the Uber starts moving, I reach into my bag and pull out the wristwatch.

A soft laugh slips past my lips.

“Men,” I mutter under my breath. “So easy.”

I turn around and look through the back window, checking if there's anyone running after the car.

But there's no one.

He probably hasn’t even noticed yet.

I reach into my bag again, pulling out my phone. I make the call, and as soon as I bring the phone to my ear, I hear his calm, deep voice.

“Agent Vixen.”

I straighten slightly, my eyes lifting to the rearview mirror again.

“How did it go?” he asks.

“The first step of the plan was a success, sir,” I say, watching the club disappear through the back window.

A short silence follows.

“You got close to him?”

I glance down at the diamond wristwatch glittering in my palm, then my lips curve into a smirk.

“Better,” I say. “I got his attention.”

(VALENTINO'S POV)

I haven't been able to get Krystal out of my head.

It's been a whole day she hugged me outside my club and smiled in my face while robbing me blind.

And the worst part?

I’m not even mad.

I laugh every time I think about it.

I walk into The Palace of Sin with my men, Leo, Bruno, and Michele right behind me. The bass from the speakers thump as WAP by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion blasts throughout the club.

Lights strobe across the room in bursts of neon green and hot pink. Dollar bills rain down onto the stage as half-naked women grind, arch, and twerk for a roomful of thirsty men who don't even know where to put their hands.

My eyes sweep the room, scanning every dancer as I pass, searching for blonde hair, blue eyes, thick thighs, and that dangerous little smile.

But there's no sign of Krystal anywhere.

It stings a little, but I have to face the fact that I probably won't see her ever again.

A watch like that could set a girl up for life. For all I know, she’s already on a plane out of Vegas, sipping champagne in first class while laughing at the dumb mafia bastard she robbed.

I make my way upstairs to the V.I.P section where I can get the best view of the whole club.

My men settle in beside me, their eyes scanning the room as I lean back, taking it all in.

Bradley Knox, the manager I personally hired, makes his way over to us.

"Good evening, boss." He extends his hand. I shake it and he grips firmly.

He glances at Leo, Bruno, and Michele, nods with that easy confidence of his, and says, "Fellas."

Bruno daps him up immediately. "My guy."

Bradley leans slightly closer, lowers his voice like he's about to share a secret. "So what can I get you all to drink?"

"I'll have a vintage Barolo." I say.

"A glass of scotch will do." Leo says.

"Same as him." Michele adds.

"You got bourbon?" Bruno asks. "I'll take that."

Bradley spins on his heels and disappears into the haze of the club. Moments later, he returns with a tray carried by a thick, curvy beauty whose skin is a rich chocolate brown.

Her long braids fall past her waist, the green bikini barely containing the twin mountains of her tits that bounce with every step. I can't look away, almost as if I'm hypnotized.

She reaches the table, sets down the drinks, and our eyes meet. She bites her bottom lip just enough to make me swallow.

Bruno's gaze locks on her ass as she bends, muttering under his breath in Italian. "Signore, mio Dio..." (Lord have mercy.)

He whistles low when she straightens, walking past him.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Bruno says, standing up, "I believe I've found god."

"Make sure you tithe generously," Michele calls after him, laughing.

Bradley chuckles, shaking his head, then turns to me. "Anyone catching your eye, boss? I can send over whoever you like."

I sip my wine slowly, my eyes drifting over the other dancers, taking in the curves, the moves.

But then I freeze the moment my eyes land on her.

Well I’ll be damned.

She's here. She actually came back.

I set the glass down, stand, and give Bradley a simple shake of my head. "Don't worry about it. I've got this."

And with that, I make my way toward her.

Tonight just got a whole lot more interesting.

(KRYSTAL'S POV)

The pole feels cold under my fingers, slick with the residue of sweat from the last set.

I dip low, grinding and twerking, rolling my hips like I'm trying to hypnotize every man in the club. Dollar bills rain down, falling against my skin, tucked into the straps of my thong and between my boobs, and I let the thrill of it pulse through me.

Then I hear it. That voice.

"Well, if it isn't Krystal with a K."

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. I turn slowly and see him standing right there.

Valentino.

He leans on the platform, looking at me with this intensity, as if he's undressing me with those green eyes.

A smile tugs at my lips.

"Oh, hi Val. Nice to see you again," I say, smoothing my hair over my shoulder as I step off the stage.

"Sure. It's nice to see you too," he replies, his gaze intense. "You know... I thought you would've skipped town and started a new life by now."

"Me?" I laugh softly, placing a hand on my chest. "Why?"

"I dunno..." Valentino says, leaning back slightly with a smug look on his face. "Maybe because you stole something that belongs to me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, playing dumb, letting a small teasing smirk curl at the corner of my lips.

He grins, deciding to play along. "The ten million dollar diamond wristwatch you stole off my hand a few days ago. Right in front of the club?"

"Oh... that," I say lightly, brushing a few strands of hair behind my ear. "Don't mind me. I've just got butter fingers-especially when it comes to shiny things." I tilt my head, giving him an innocent look. "I hope you're not mad at me."

Valentino leans closer. "I'm not mad. In fact... I know exactly what you're doing."

I arch an eyebrow. "Now do you?"

"You're trying to get my attention," he says slowly. "And I can't lie... you've succeeded."

We just stare at each other for a moment, the world narrowing down to the two of us.

His green eyes look deep into mine, as if trying to stare into my soul, then they wander briefly to my lips then back to meet my eyes again.

"I'd like a private dance," he finally says, his voice deep and smooth, loaded with something I could feel in my chest.

I smile. "With pleasure."

He holds out his hand, and I take it, letting him lead me away from the crowded floor, into the V.I.P section, into one of the private rooms.

The door clicks shut behind him after I enter, and the room feels like its own world.

Dim red lights wash over everything, the slow beat of R&B vibrating through the floor. A pole rose from the center of the room, and at the far end, a heart-shaped bed draped in dark red sheets called to a different kind of temptation.

Valentino sinks into a chair, leaning back, his eyes never leaving mine. "Dance."

I walk to the pole and wrap my fingers around it. Gripping it between my legs, I spin slowly before landing on my heels again.

I rolled my hips as I went low then I spread my legs wide, trailing my from between my breasts down to my stomach, then down to the thin fabric covering my pussy.

I watch him closely.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, his eyes never leaving mine for a second.

I get to all fours and slowly crawl toward him, the heat of the room thick between us. When I reach him, I straddle his lap, rolling my hips against his crotch. His hands rest at his sides, tense, waiting, anticipating.

I feel the hardness of him pressing through his pants. I tease, grinding, riding the edge, watching his jaw tighten, his lips parting in a soft moan.

Finally, I slip off my bikini top, letting my breasts fall free.

I bring them up to his face, and a shiver runs through me the moment his warm breath hits my skin.

He cups my breasts with his hands, thumbs brushing over the nipples, one of which he sucks, flicking his tongue over the bud before moving to the other.

I moan softly, my hips still grinding against his erection. Then his hands grips my face, tilting my head toward his lips.

And then, he kisses me.

It's gentle at first, as if we're both testing each other. Then I lean in harder, kissing him fiercely. He slides his tongue into my mouth making me taste the lingering tang of wine.

I love the taste of him. It's sexy... intoxicating.

Our tongues clash in a battle for dominance as our lips smack against each other until we finally break apart, our chests heaving as we try to catch our breaths.

"I want to fuck you," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.

I give him a teasing smile. "Club rules. No fucking customers."

"I'm not a customer," he growls, his voice dropping an octave. "I'm your fucking boss."

"Doesn't mean you won't pay up. And to be honest... this job doesn't really pay that well,"

"Yet you're still here," he counters, his tone dark yet amused.

"Well, a girl's gotta do something to pay her bills," I reply, grinding harder against him.

He groans, his voice dangerously low. "Fine. You can keep the watch."

"Is that a deal?" I ask, sliding a hand into his pants, rubbing him slowly through the fabric, watching him shudder.

"Yes," he gasps softly. "It's a deal."