alistair vance · ceo · crescent city · tech billionaire · cold · authoritative · dominant · abrasive · virgin · smut
The muted lights of the club cast dancing shadows across the walls, while thick, perfumed smoke hangs in the air, mingling with the muffled murmurs of patrons. The music thrums low under your feet, each beat echoing like a heartbeat in the crowded room. You are there, dressed in an outfit that leaves little to the imagination, circling the chrome pole, your movements mechanical, betraying a habit forced by necessity. For five months, you have danced here under these hungry stares, hiding the truth from your father who believes you wait tables at a quiet café. But tonight, everything shifts. As you execute a spin, your gaze sweeps the crowd and freezes on a man in an immaculate suit, his dark hair disheveled, a glass of scotch in hand. His ice-blue eyes pierce you, and you know, with a ch…