Every shade of pink is spattered on the canvas. Salmon. Rose. Bubblegum. It merges into a figure, an image of the person consuming my brain like Pacman. My paintbrush strokes the baby hairs on her forehead, the ones I could recall at least. Sighing, I scrub my forearm across my forehead as I take in the final product.

It's my fifth painting of her from this week alone.

I toss my paintbrush into the breaker, sagging down onto my stool. My thoughts are tainted. Her name echoes through my mind like an addictive spell. I frustratedly rake my fingers through my damp hair, trying to swallow this craving before it becomes an obsession.

Mika.

Mika.

Mika.

The Devil on my shoulders whispers her name in my ear, continuously, waiting for the moment I slip up.

It's been a week.

It's crystal clear how badly I wanted to see her, but I couldn't. I shouldn't. From the second she stepped on stage, she had sinfully written all over her. If the Devil came in a shape of an angel, I bet every dollar it was Mika.

It isn't her profession that frightens me. Most guys would be turned off to the idea of a woman who's been selling herself for money, but I see the contrary. In my eyes, Mika was a woman that took incentive of her life. A career doesn't define a human being, it's just a means to an end.

Going after a woman like Mika terrifies me because it's what she wants. She gives me snippets of attention, so I can keep coming back for more. It wouldn't surprise me if Diablo planned for her to perform on my first night. Falling into temptation, falling for Mika is a dangerous, risky, threatening game.

Earning my family's reputation back should be my first priority. Instead, I'm spending my nights drunk in Mika.

My thoughts wash away to the sound of the door opening.

My papa's nurse wheels him in. "Hijó te he estado buscando." He waves his nurse off, and she bows before exiting the room.

(Son, I've been looking for you.)

"Estoy justo aqui donde siempre estoy," I reply.

(I'm right here where I always am.)

His mouth curls down to a scowl. "No deberias estar aqui abajo. Enviaste a tus primos al trabajo en lugar de hacerlo tu mismo?"

(You shouldn't be down here. You sent your cousins to work instead of doing it yourself?)

I swallow, closing my eyes for a fraction of a second. Here it comes. "The objective is to torture Bolivar into accepting our deal. If I went, I would back out before they could chop his fingers off."

Papa's face hardens, his eyes narrow into slits. "Es patético. Cómo pueden respetarte cuando estás aquí pintando como una niño?"

(It's pathetic. How can they respect you when you're here painting like a child?)

My jaw ticks. "What do you want me to do, papa? I'm trying, okay? Can you cut me some slack?"

His eyebrows jump to his receding hairline. "Trying?" He scoffs, dragging his tongue over his teeth. "Pintar una perra es intentar?"

(Painting a bitch is trying?)

"Don't call her that," I sneer.

Amusement gleams in his eyes from my reaction. Papa finds joy in tampering with the things that matter, especially once I took leadership. Mama used to have him on a leash until my brother passed away. Now, her authority meant nothing because my life changed into a course I am not ready for.

I don't think I'll ever be.

"Tal vez si me follo a esta zorra se arreglara los tornillos de tu cabeza." He smiles slowly. "Un gran culo y enrormes tetas. Solo mi tipo."

(Maybe if I fuck this bitch it will fix the screws in your head. Big ass and huge tits. Just my type.)

I narrow my eyes at him. "I'll tell mama."

He rubs his jaw to contain his laughter. "Cuando vas a crecer y aprender tu lugar? Con un hombre como usted como nuestro jefe, vamos a fracasar."

(When are you going to grow up and learn your place? With a man like you as our boss, we are going to fail.)

He leans forward and gets in my face. When he speaks, his voice is hard as steel. "Todo los días me despierto deseando que hayas muerto tú en lugar de Ander. Mi último deseo es verte morir antes de que nuestro nombre sea arrastrado por el barro."

(Everyday, I wake up wishing that you had died instead of Ander. My last wish is to see you die before our name is dragged through the mud.)

I blow out a slow exhale, refusing to let his words affect me. Sometimes I wished I was still five years old, admiring the way my papa carried himself. When I hit ten years, the reality of my family business finally clicked, and the magic surrounding papa turned into pure darkness. I wasn't his favorite when I was younger, and it hasn't changed much since I got older.

Ander was the golden child.

I am the black sheep.

The stiff tension melts away like butter as he's rolled out of the room. My chest rises with frustration, and I throw my paint set at the wall. I am going to regret this later. The colors stain the wall, the floor, my shoes, and oddly enough, the main tint is red like the bloodbath happening downtown.

Just thinking about it makes me nauseous.

I need a drink.

I need an escape.

From reality, from myself, from this suffocating place.

My hands and legs move on their own accord. It doesn't dawn on me until I park my car in the empty lot across from Diablo's Paraiso. It's a mistake. I shouldn't have driven all the way out here, even if I needed air. I could've gone anywhere, yet the first place I run to is this specialized club.

My fingers graze against the design of my mask. In there, I wasn't Asiel Morterero. I could live in a fantasy world where I'm not being swallowed up by responsibilities every fucking second. It also didn't hurt that the most beautiful girl I've ever seen worked here. The Devil on my shoulder is winning, and I let it.

I don't have the energy to fight back.

But I'm only going to clear my head with twenty pounds of alcohol. Mika is fucking incredible, but I'm not going to tumble into her trap tonight. Tonight, I'll sit at the crowded bar and make sure she can't try any sexual advances.

Once I enter level two, I'm hit with dark maroon lights, making it impossible to see anything. It's my first time visiting on a Saturday, and it is loaded to the brim. Individuals in their fancy attires roam around the room in their own little sanctuaries, fantasies, heavens. Anxiety rolls down my spine as I glance at my casual attire.

Regret instantly dawns on me.

The chances of seeing Mika are fifty-fifty, but sue me for wanting to look perfect for her. Did I jus-? Jesus Christ, save me from my sins. I can't even recite prayers because of the blaring music coming from the speakers. One lone stool is open in the middle of the bar, and I squeeze myself through the crowd to take it.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I raise two fingers to try to grab Amira, the bartender's attention, without being an asshole. She notices me in two seconds, but with the buzzing crowd, it takes a few minutes to reach my spot. Her choppy bangs obscure her oval-shape eyes as she pours a line of tequila shots.

"What will you be having, sir?" She asks, surprisingly, carrying seven shots between her fingers.

"Scotch," I reply, dragging my hands back and forth on my thighs.

My nerves slowly dissolve into a soothing sensation once I throw back the glass. As I call Amira over for a refill, I keep my gaze locked on the entryway in case she walks in. The chances of running into Mika are higher than I would've liked, but she's a good temptation for a reason. Regardless of how easily I'll surrender to her, I didn't want to go the night without seeing her.

It's like she's pulling me in against my own goddamn will.

Oddly, my fantasies come to life as she slips through the entryway in a skintight cadet blue minidress fitting her like a glove. Small slits start from her cleavage, stopping at her belly button. It's like the second she strutted in, everyone turns their head to gape at her, drink her up, cherish her.

Mika is magnetic, capturing everyone's attention on the perimeter. Patrons by the entrance try striking up a conversation with her, but Mika only smiles politely before going straight ahead. Eventually, one client ambushes Mika with a hug, her nose scrunched up as if she wanted to be anywhere else besides with the bastard.

I clutch my tumbler tighter, growing incredibly agitated at seeing her flirt with another person. It's Mika, a natural flirt that consumes my mind like no other girl has done before. Our relationship is professional, nothing more, yet I loathe to watch another man touch her.

I don't know what pisses me off more-- that he's touching her shoulder, chin, cheek as much as he pleases or that she's letting him and giggling at his jokes. This jealousy building up proves how much of a terrible idea Mika is. If I fall anymore deeper than I already am, she's going to have the advantage to destroy me.

To use me.

To shatter me.

As much as I try to carry around this facade of being a tough macho man, in reality, I'm a delicate glass mirror. One small swing and everything comes tumbling down to the scared little boy hidden within.

The air pulses like it had a heartbeat as if she can feel me looking at her. She looks over her shoulders. Her eyes lock with mine from across the room and even from here, I can see a mixture of happiness with a hint of mischievousness. Mika goes on her toes, whispering words into his ears as her eyes remain connected to mine.

A single breath is all it takes for Mika to be in front of me. She looks around at the dozen people surrounding us instantly, frowning.

"How unfair, Asiel," she pouts, her shoulders sulking. "You really sat in the most crowded part of the room. It's been a while. I thought you would want some alone time together."

Mika is on par with my reasonings. The main objective of being encircled by drunk adults is to keep myself safe from her antics. However, if Mika wants something, I doubt a few dozen people will stop her from doing it. Or maybe she respects the watchers to keep things PG between us tonight.

Right?

Heat blooms on my cheeks. "I'm trying to make sure you won't do what you did the last time."

Her twinkling blue eyes do a quick scan of me, and then her mouth forms a cute smirk. "What? Not make you come? So sorry for that, babe. A client was waiting for me." She winks as the seat beside me becomes vacant.

Mika orders a scotch for herself and places her soft, dainty hand on my thigh, a bit too close to my dick. Scorching heat pools to my groin. A single touch is all it takes for my inexperienced cock to go haywire. Silent prayer recites silently in my head as she leans over, her boobs pressing against my chest as she grabs a napkin.

Am I breathing normally?

I straighten up and shake my head.

Get it together, Asiel.

The burning heat on my skin disappears as I grab her hand and place it on the bar. Mika tilts her head in amusement, her dazzling smile reaching to her doe-eyes. Her chest jiggles as she erupts into a burst of laughter between sips.

Clearing my throat loudly, I say steadily, "Seriously... Mika. Not today. I know you like to play your little games... but please, not now."

Instantly, her grin falters, twisting to a frown as she quietly observed me for a few minutes. She turns away, tapping her tumbler back and forth with her finger as my leg anxiously shakes.

"If you don't like to play my games today... maybe I could offer you something else?"

My eyes narrow. "What?

She flashes an innocent smile. "A conversation."

The pure shock from her answer causes my hand to twitch, knocking down my full tumbler of scotch onto her lap. Mika whimpers, jumping to her feet as the alcohol soaks her dress. My cheeks burn as her pink g-string becomes clear as day. As I accidentally have a coughing fit, Mika orders herself another two glasses.

I don't act well in an embarrassing situation, probably worse than a dangerous one.

I frantically grab a collection of napkins and start cleaning her thighs until I'm inches away from digging in her dress. Mika watches with pleasure as she leans an arm against her stool, her lips curling to the smuggest grin.

"If you want to feel me up. All you had to do was ask. It's a few thousand dollars but would be worth it," she coos, snatching my hand before I could react and pushing it heavenwards towards her pussy.

"I-I wasn't trying to," I stutter, my eyes blinking anxiously. "I'm just surprised by your response."

Her eyebrows knot. "What did you think I would say?"

I blink, short-circuiting for a second. "Something sexual."

Mika gasps, her eyes widening as her hand hovers over her mouth. "Who do you think I am, Asiel? I don't think about sex all the time."

A low chuckle escapes me. "Really?"

Mika snickers, using the remaining napkins to clean up the spill on the stool. She pulls her hair into an updo, fascinating me with how gorgeous she looks on a simple day like today. It's like I'm seeing her outside of her work in her usual attire, in a normal state, a version I never thought I'll have the benefits of meeting.

Her gaze fills with mischief as she begins to slip the thin dress strap off her shoulders. "Well, like 1% of the time. The other 99% is imagining ways in how I could tie you up." My jaw drops as she pushes the shimmery material down her hips, letting it fall to the ground. "But seriously, you seem stressed. Is something bothering you? I'm a good advice giver if you need any."

My gaze becomes hazy with lust as I try to be as respectful as possible. "It's h-hard to focus on my thoughts with your nonstop teasing."

Her nose scrunches up in delight. "Teasing?" She glances at her body, the metal from her pierced nipples easily noticeable through her long hair. "Oh, this? It's uncomfortable to sit around in a wet outfit. I would think you know a little bit about that..."

I scratch my jaw as a small smile forms. "Sadly, I do."

Eyes wander over in Mika's direction, lingering especially long on her perfectly plump ass. A fury chill rushes down my spine as she scoots the bar stool over and settles in the seat, her thighs grazing against mine. Her plush, sweet touch is enough to eliminate the jealousy creeping up on me.

It also helps that Mika's attention is solely on me.

"All jokes aside, Asiel." Her hand rests over mine, a warm wave building in that spot. "I know the club has this anonymity rule. If you don't want to name names then, I'll respect your privacy. This place is supposed to be your sanctuary. So, if that means sharing things with a stranger like me, then I'll be serious."

I blink, unable to form a coherent sentence.

It's so weird.

For weeks, Mika seemed like a fantasy. A sexual fantasy, desire. Her beauty initiated an illusion in my head, and every night she channeled it. She is a person but appears almost untameable. Until tonight, she's proven that she doesn't solely revolve around sex. This entire exchange brought a sense of adoration to see if I can reach her in ways others couldn't.

"Are we strangers still?"

Mika smirks as she runs a hand through her hair. "Yes, I'd say we are. We don't really know anything about each other, right? Though we don't have to be."

My finger glides against the stainless silver moon detail ring. "It's just life. I feel like I'm suffocating from the weight on my shoulders, but I don't have any say. If I don't do what I'm supposed to, I'll lose everything... My family, my friends, my legacy. But if I do... I'm afraid I'll lose myself."

There's a warm glint in her eyes. "Ahh, this is a topic I'm not really familiar with, but I'll speak my mind. Family can be the best of both worlds, but they come with their faults. It seems like yours suffers from the occasional toxicity that jumps with every generation."

I bite my lip in hesitation. "You could say that. I've always lived my life in the shadows, hidden in the shade. Unlike the rest of my family, they're out there, loud, proud wolves. It didn't become a tremendous issue until this year. My life did a complete one-eighty, and I've gone along with it because that's what is expected of me."

An unexpected jolt of electricity rushes up my spine when Mika's finger hooks my chin, tilting my face in her direction. Her alluring, enchanting aquamarine eyes penetrate through mine, reading into every piece of my soul.

"This explains everything."

A frown mars my eyebrows. "What?"

"Since I've met you, your eyes stuck with me. They have this kind of innocent purity that is hard to find in this industry. You shouldn't let them steal this light from you. The moment it's gone, the darkness will consume you."

My throat goes tight, making it hard to breathe. "How are you so sure?"

Her finger traces the tilt of my cheeks. "Because it isn't the first time I've seen someone lose their light. It takes one thing, one night, for it to disappear in an instant. Don't let them force you into things you aren't ready for. Ease into it."

My gaze drops unexpectedly dawdling on her tits. A cute small black ink heart tattoo in between the crests of her boobs along with a cursive tattoo on her ribcage reading 'Hermosa'. Her mouth parts when my thumb brushes across her ribcage with the barest touch.

"No creo que haya una palabra que pueda explicar tu belleza," I mutter, my cheeks feeling hot from my sudden confession.

(I don't think there is a word that can explain your beauty.)

I clear my throat, a lack of oxygen in my lungs as she traces the tattoo on my hand, gliding up my tattoo forearm. "Your skeleton tattoo. What's that mean?"

I shrug. "When I was younger, I would draw the bones of my skeleton on my hand. So on a random night, I decided to go ahead and tattoo it on my skin."

She raises a brow. "A spur of the moment?"

I gulp. "I was drunk."

"What about the rose?"

My eyes narrow as a smirk emerges on my lips. "It's my brother's favorite flower. We got the matching tattoo on my eighteenth birthday. It's supposed to represent our bonds as brothers. It's fucking cheesy, isn't it?"

Mika giggles, shaking her head. "No, it's cute. Something I would expect coming from you."

"Coming from you."

Am I this predictable?

It takes my brain a second to catch up with what's happening. I look down, Mika's hand pushing up my white t-shirt to reveal my ink-stain core. Burning heat seeps from her fingertips and into my skin. Her gaze follows the flying crows that weave their way up to the next image, an elaborate skull head which is followed by two damask roses built-in large span of angel wings.

She bites her lip. "It's like altogether they tell a story."

Trying not to squirm under her touch, I say, "How do you interpret them?"

A needy desire settles in the pit of my stomach, taking root and stealing all rational thoughts. Her hands continuously run down the ridge of my abs, burning my skin in her wake. The kind of burn that spreads, sending waves of heated pleasure through my veins. Only Mika can drive me insane with a simple touch.

"The crows represent a following, a group that can lead to destruction. They're getting eaten up by the darkness, losing themselves to it. The flowers represent the first tip into paradise, the leaves connect symbolizing an unbreakable bond. However, the wings are like a reminder for the bond."

"What's the reminder?" My voice comes out breathy.

"The wings. The goodness. The virtue is what's going to tear them apart."

Hehehe finally we are back to some good Asiel and Mika contact!!! I just love seeing Asiel getting all nervous around her... anyone else? Instead of being solely sexual, Mika went in a different direction and why do you think that is? 👀 Let me hear your thoughts! I love reading the comments and seeing what everyone thinks so don't be shy❤️!!

Thank you for getting me to seven thousand guys!! It's so crazy I'm so happy people are enjoying Mika!! Love ya!!