Page 14 of Dangerous Seduction

I’d almost dropped the wine glass when Eliza, my stylist, presented me with the dress for the night. It was a masterpiece—clinging to my body like a second skin, hugging all the right places. And the shoes... they were pure torture, but the way they elongated my legs were worth the pain.

I ran my hands over the curve-hugging dress one last time, my heart pounding beneath it. Tonight was the night. Last night had been the opening act—a chance encounter, a meet-cute. But now, my acting skills would be truly tested, and weeks of preparation would come to a head. If I failed this evening, my undercover assignment would be over before it had truly begun.

For the past several days, the DEA had been tailing Dante, tracking his every move, searching for an in. And last night, at that upscale restaurant, an opportunity had presented itself—a chance for me to make an introduction.

I had been a bundle of nerves, sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine, trying to exude an air of mystique and confidence. When Dante approached, I knew I had to bring my A-game.

Portraying Eva Morales—the enigmatic, captivating woman meant to entangle Dante in her web—was more than just acting. It was a delicate dance of seduction and intrigue that I had to perfect if I wanted to gain his trust.

Trust... that was the key. I had to make Dante trust me. Hell, I needed him to trust me more than his own people. If I could seduce Dante, make him believe in my unwavering devotion, he’d willingly open the doors to the Reyes cartel’s inner sanctum. I’d have access to intel, contacts, and evidence that could bring down their entire operation.

And scoring that invitation to Club Diablo was the first step.

Taking a deep breath, I slid into the sleek town car that would spirit me away to the club. I sank into the soft leather seat, the dress riding up my thighs as I crossed my legs—a subtle yet powerful weapon in my arsenal.

Tonight was for Matt. For all the victims who had gotten caught in the crossfire of the Reyes cartel’s ruthless game. I was determined to bring them down, one step at a time, one cocky cartel member at a time, if I had to.

The car purred to a stop in front of Club Diablo, the neon sign flickering above the entrance like a seductive siren. A final glance in the mirror revealed a woman transformed—my hair cascading in sexy, dark waves over my shoulders, my lips a glossy red, beckoning temptation itself.

Showtime.

I stepped out of the car, the cool night air caressing my skin, and made my way to the club’s entrance.

The bouncer was an imposing figure, all brawn and no brain. He eyed me with suspicion as I breezed past the desperate souls waiting in line. I offered him a coy smile, tilting my head.

“Private party, invite-only,” he rumbled, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. “No exceptions.”

I feigned surprise, tracing a fingernail down his muscular arm. “Oh, sugar, there’s always an exception for me.” My voice was a sultry purr, with a hint of underlying danger.

His eyes narrowed, daring to challenge me. “I don’t care if you’re the Queen of England herself. No invite, no entry. Now step aside before I have to get rough.”

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, but I maintained a cool, amused facade. “Dante Reyes invited me. Tell him Eva Morales has arrived. Believe me, cariño, you don’t want to keep him, or me, waiting.”

The bouncer hesitated, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple. Slowly, he reached for his walkie-talkie, his eyes never leaving mine. “I got a woman here claiming Dante invited her,” he grunted. “Says her name is Eva Morales.”

I noticed the security camera and stared directly into it, my expression confident, a challenge in itself.

A crackle of static, then—"Let her in, idiot."

I smirked as the bouncer reluctantly unhooked the velvet rope, granting me access. I could feel his gaze burning into my back as I sauntered past, my hips swaying with each step.

When I entered Club Diablo, the vibrant energy of the place washed over me. Pulsing lights, gyrating bodies, and the heady scent of debauchery filled my senses. Servers, clad in revealing attire, weaved their way through the crowd, balancing trays of expensive drinks and champagne bottles with practiced ease.

But this wasn’t your average Florida strip club. Club Diablo was a beast of its own, catering to the rich, the powerful, and the depraved. Everything about the place oozed luxury and excess—from the crystal glassware to the exotic dancers on raised platforms, their bodies shimmering with sweat under the strobing lights. Even the air felt thick with the smell of money, power, and raw, unchecked desire.

I schooled my features into a mask of bored indifference, scanning the club as if I were used to such extravagance. My nerves tingled, but I wouldn’t let it show. I was Eva now—a woman who frequented these elite circles, exuding an air of sophistication and confidence.

A waiter approached, his eyes glittering with lust as he took in my appearance. “Can I get you a drink, mamacita?” he murmured, leaning in close, his cologne heavy in the air between us.

I arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, meeting his gaze with calm intensity. “A glass of your finest red, cariño,” I drawled, allowing the faintest hint of a smile to touch my lips. As he scurried off, my attention returned to the pulsing, neon-lit depths of the club.

And then I saw him—Dante Reyes, standing in a secluded VIP alcove, exuding an aura of smoldering confidence. Six feet and two inches of sheer masculine presence, dressed in an dark suit that accentuated his sculpted frame.

Steeling my nerves, I held his gaze, ready to unleash my acting prowess.

As I strolled towards the bouncer guarding Dante’s exclusive domain, his eyes devoured me hungrily. I gave him a saccharine smile, my voice dripping with honeyed seduction. “I’m Eva Morales. Dante’s expecting me.”

The mountain of a man hesitated for a moment, then grunted and stepped aside, his eyes glued to my retreating form as I sashayed past. Success.

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