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CHAPTER TWENTY: I JUST HAVE TO PLAY MY CARDS RIGHT.

DESMOND’S POV

I remember the first time I watched Valentina dance, it was at Don Carlos’ strip club, about two years ago, I knew she was special, anyone could see that.

I sat amidst those drunk pot bellied slubs that Don Carlos calls his associates, I let their noise drown into nothingness and focused on her, focused on how the stage melted in her presence like she owned it, watched how the lights obeyed her every command, how we all gave her all our full attention.

I paid for a lap dance that day, that was quite unusual because I don’t ever find the appeal in strippers and whores, I am not that kind of man but I don’t know, Valentina is different even the Devil agrees.

Valentina was different from the other girls we could all tell every single man in that club wanted her for himself, it was probably the knowledge of how untouchable she was that prompted our lust even more.

The rules were simple; you have to be satisfied with just watching Valentina dance on the
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