VELVET VIXENS' DOMAIN, APHRODITE'S LAIR...12 AM.
Disco lights danced wildly across the high arched ceilings of the Aphrodite's Lair, casting dazzling patterns on the walls as pulsating music filled the entire space. It was a celebration,one held in honor of not just a successful mission, but two. Julian had completed her hunt flawlessly, and Gaby's ruthless efficiency had left no loose ends. The members of the society were in high spirits, and tonight, indulgence was their reward.
The lair, named after the Greek goddess of love, was ironically both temple and tavern—an intoxicating blend of lust, power, and shadows. Male strippers moved rhythmically under flashing lights, gigolos whispered sweet nothings to vixens wrapped around them, and velvet sofas became makeshift beds as members openly indulged in their pleasures. There were no rules tonight,except one: do not disturb Shante.
At the far end of the lair, in a private velvet booth slightly raised above the dance floor, Shante sat. Her crimson gaze swept over the chaos with cold detachment. Though her legs were elegantly crossed and a champagne flute rested gracefully in her hand, her thoughts were nowhere near the celebration. All she wanted,what she craved, was her next experiment. And she knew it would be ready soon.
"Can't believe you didn't invite me to the party," a voice drawled beside her.
She didn't flinch at Drex's sudden appearance. Even when he slid into the seat next to her, she remained still,still like a loaded gun waiting for a trigger.
"I really missed these days," he murmured, placing a firm hand on her exposed thigh, fingers caressing her skin slowly as if it belonged to him.
Still, she didn't move. She was used to his flirtations,the casual way he tried to provoke her. He had tried many times before. And failed, just as many.
"My answer hasn't changed," she said coldly, taking a sip from her glass.
Drex chuckled bitterly. "Why the act, Te? You're no saint. We've done this before,it's not your first time with me." His voice sharpened with frustration. "You're a bitch, so stop pretending you're not."
Shante turned slowly, her eyes glinting with malice. "You barely make me cum. So tell me,why should I waste my time on you?" she replied smoothly, rising to her feet.
As she walked away, her hips swayed with a sinful rhythm that made Drex's throat tighten. He cursed under his breath, his eyes lingering on her retreating form.
"Bloody bitch."
Shante made her way through a dim hallway, her heels clicking ominously as she approached The Spider's Web,a sterile, chilling room where experiments were conducted on the dead. Inside, her latest treasure awaited her: the severed head of the girl she had executed the previous night.
She entered slowly, her presence commanding immediate attention. At the center of the room, on a stainless steel table, lay the preserved head,beautiful, pale, and frozen in death.
Stretching out her hand, a surgical knife was placed into her palm by a waiting assistant. A slight, almost sensual smile touched her lips as she dragged the blade into the first eye socket. There was no blood,the head had been frozen for hours. With careful precision, she dug deeper, twisting the blade until the eyeball loosened and fell into her gloved hand.
One down.
She repeated the process with the other eye, and in less than a minute, both rare irises sat in her hand like precious gems.
A young optician stood nearby, watching nervously. Shante turned to her.
"Make no mistake," she warned, her voice low and laced with venom. "You've handled many of my custom lenses, but these… these are different. These eyes are exquisite. If you ruin them, I'll use yours instead. Am I clear?"
The optician nodded quickly, swallowing hard. "Crystal clear, ma'am. I won't fail."
Shante patted her shoulder lightly, almost affectionately, before exiting the room. Her heels echoed down the stone corridor as she began to hum a haunting melody.
Suddenly, a scream echoed down the hallway,desperate, hoarse, and full of pain.
Shante stopped in her tracks. A cruel smirk curled at her lips. She followed the sound, her steps unhurried but deadly.
The cries led her to a hidden chamber,the holding cell for "new blood." She flung the door open and was met with a sickening scene: a male enforcer pinning a young girl to the floor, his pants half undone, his mouth snarling commands. The girl's voice was hoarse from screaming, her pale body trembling as tears soaked her cheeks.
A flicker of something sharp crossed Shante's face.
Nineteen years ago. Blood. Screams. Her parents' slaughter. Her innocence stolen while she was forced to watch.
She blinked.
"Madam Te, please!" the girl screamed, her voice breaking. "Save me!"
Shante's gaze locked on the man. Cold. Hollow. Empty.
"Stop," she said, voice like ice.
The man turned to her, unfazed. "I was instructed to train her. If she's still a virgin, how can she complete a seduction mission?"
"And you thought rape was training?" she asked, her voice rising dangerously.
He sneered. "Mrs. LaRue said we could train however we wanted. You're not my superior, Shante. You can't dictate how I do my job."
Shante stared at him, her expression unreadable. But her body was tense now, her fingers curling at her side.
"You're lucky I don't rip your throat out," she whispered.
"Then join us," he taunted, leering. "I wouldn't mind a threesome."
The girl whimpered again, her screams growing faint.
Shante saw red.
She spotted a gun on the nearby bench. In one swift movement, she picked it up and pulled the trigger.
Boom.
His skull exploded on impact, blood and brain matter splattering across the terrified girl's face. She shrieked, a piercing sound that rattled the walls.
Shante stood still, smoke curling from the barrel of the gun. Her face was expressionless again.
Slowly, she lowered the weapon, turned around, and left the chamber without a word.