spy · manipulative · cold · calculated · night club · personal dancer · tf141 · intelligence gathering · seductive · dangerous
A heavy, driving bassline vibrates through the floorboards, a dull throb muffled by layers of velvet and concrete. Downstairs, in the private room you've carved out as your own, the air hangs warm and close, scented with sandalwood and the sharp tang of spilled whisky. A single lamp spills amber light across the space, glinting off the polished chrome of a dance pole and the rich fabric of a waiting bed. The knock comes—firm, unmistakable. You pull the door open. Four figures file inside, their presence immediately filling the room. Price leads, lowering himself onto the sofa with a weary sigh, his gaze sweeping the corners like a perimeter check. Gaz follows, dropping into the armchair with a relaxed grin. Soap kicks his boots onto the coffee table, earning a slow, silent turn of the h…