11-26-2023, 02:11 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-26-2023, 02:21 AM by Alistair Bishop.)
The bar had been slightly elevated, allowing Nadya to scan the room. The lighting was dark, yet her eyes were adept at hunting in any light.
Nadya had leaned toward Alistair. "Do you see that guy wearing a gray suit, jacket, and glasses?" she had asked in her thick, rich Russian accent. Alistair had nodded. She had explained that he was worth over 1 billion, a major liquor buyer for the Family, whose group spent millions in their clubs. "We must keep him happy, no matter what," she had stressed, pausing to face Alistair and slowly emphasizing no…matter…what., hinting at needs beyond VIP passes and money. The gentleman had seen Nadya and nodded, smiling at Alistair and pulling his wife close, a gesture that communicated his desires. He had winked at Alistair before turning back to his group, moving his hand visibly down his wife's body.
"Nadya, what the fuck was that?" Alistair had asked with annoyance. "I thought we were here to meet people, not to pimp me out to the Family's clientele."
"Oh little sparrow, you are so naïve," Nadya had replied in a thick Russian accent, pulling him close, her hand on his chest, the other around his waist. "Look at that group. Media moguls and gossip writers. They control the press and entertainment with their narratives," she leaned up to speak into his ear, then tugging him to follow her.
As they were walking toward the group, a woman had entered the room, capturing everyone's attention. Nadya had stopped them, noticing her looking right at them, seeing their eyes meet. "Alistair, do you have secrets you're not telling me? Do you know her?" she had inquired with a surprised tone.
"Yes, she is... well, we know each other well; you may need to keep your cage locked around me; I may fly away tonight." Alistair had coyly smirked, watching the woman turn and continued to walk.
"Well, Al Alistair, you may make my job easier than I thought. Let's go. We'll come back to that," Nadya said quickly under her breath before swiftly continuing their walk.
Alistair and Nadya had weaved through the crowd, hands laced, heading purposefully toward a group. Nadya had tapped the shoulder of a large man in the group, who had turned irritably before recognizing her. "What the fu..oh Nadya! Girl, come here," he had exclaimed, hugging her. "How are you? Mr. P gotcha busy?"
“Hey, JJ business is hopping, keeping me out of trouble. Don’t you worry, I get my fun in.” Nadya takes a drink. Both exchange laughs, knowing Nadya is full of trouble. J turns to look at Alistair. “who is your boy? Is this Mr. P's new pony? What is your name, son?”
“Alistair,” He spoke in a brave yet demure tone. Only gave enough interest and breath to speak his name.
“You got a last name Alistair?” J said, his voice had boomed with bassy tones. He was a larger-than-life, charismatic character.
“Bishop.” Alistair says, switching from a soft tone to a masculine pop, giving off an air of superiority, taking on the large man's presence as if it were a bout in the ring. “I’m sure your next question is to ask what I do, so let me tell you. I’m a fighter, about to be the best Moscow has ever seen. Make sure you tell everyone you know that I’m here.” Alistair, mixed with a little whiskey, fell right into the star prizefighter attraction Mr. P had envisioned. Cocky, sure of his abilities, and able to create a buzz.
As he spoke, a gossip writer pulled out her phone and had quickly texted her editor. "We've got a story. I'll call you in a few minutes. Huge ttyl"
Nadya knew that the art of seducing a person or a society involved creating an aura of something missing in the target of the seducer's life, giving them an escape from the mundane and letting them live through someone else. It also involved scarcity. Once she had seen the gossip writer texting quickly and the rest of the party starting to lean in to find out more, she knew it was time to exit.
The seed had been planted. With that, Nadya took Alistair by the arm, saying, “J, good to see you. We need to go. Be sure to come see our boy fight soon.” Nadya led him away, obscuring them from the group's sight as they disappeared into the crown.
Nadya had leaned toward Alistair. "Do you see that guy wearing a gray suit, jacket, and glasses?" she had asked in her thick, rich Russian accent. Alistair had nodded. She had explained that he was worth over 1 billion, a major liquor buyer for the Family, whose group spent millions in their clubs. "We must keep him happy, no matter what," she had stressed, pausing to face Alistair and slowly emphasizing no…matter…what., hinting at needs beyond VIP passes and money. The gentleman had seen Nadya and nodded, smiling at Alistair and pulling his wife close, a gesture that communicated his desires. He had winked at Alistair before turning back to his group, moving his hand visibly down his wife's body.
"Nadya, what the fuck was that?" Alistair had asked with annoyance. "I thought we were here to meet people, not to pimp me out to the Family's clientele."
"Oh little sparrow, you are so naïve," Nadya had replied in a thick Russian accent, pulling him close, her hand on his chest, the other around his waist. "Look at that group. Media moguls and gossip writers. They control the press and entertainment with their narratives," she leaned up to speak into his ear, then tugging him to follow her.
As they were walking toward the group, a woman had entered the room, capturing everyone's attention. Nadya had stopped them, noticing her looking right at them, seeing their eyes meet. "Alistair, do you have secrets you're not telling me? Do you know her?" she had inquired with a surprised tone.
"Yes, she is... well, we know each other well; you may need to keep your cage locked around me; I may fly away tonight." Alistair had coyly smirked, watching the woman turn and continued to walk.
"Well, Al Alistair, you may make my job easier than I thought. Let's go. We'll come back to that," Nadya said quickly under her breath before swiftly continuing their walk.
Alistair and Nadya had weaved through the crowd, hands laced, heading purposefully toward a group. Nadya had tapped the shoulder of a large man in the group, who had turned irritably before recognizing her. "What the fu..oh Nadya! Girl, come here," he had exclaimed, hugging her. "How are you? Mr. P gotcha busy?"
“Hey, JJ business is hopping, keeping me out of trouble. Don’t you worry, I get my fun in.” Nadya takes a drink. Both exchange laughs, knowing Nadya is full of trouble. J turns to look at Alistair. “who is your boy? Is this Mr. P's new pony? What is your name, son?”
“Alistair,” He spoke in a brave yet demure tone. Only gave enough interest and breath to speak his name.
“You got a last name Alistair?” J said, his voice had boomed with bassy tones. He was a larger-than-life, charismatic character.
“Bishop.” Alistair says, switching from a soft tone to a masculine pop, giving off an air of superiority, taking on the large man's presence as if it were a bout in the ring. “I’m sure your next question is to ask what I do, so let me tell you. I’m a fighter, about to be the best Moscow has ever seen. Make sure you tell everyone you know that I’m here.” Alistair, mixed with a little whiskey, fell right into the star prizefighter attraction Mr. P had envisioned. Cocky, sure of his abilities, and able to create a buzz.
As he spoke, a gossip writer pulled out her phone and had quickly texted her editor. "We've got a story. I'll call you in a few minutes. Huge ttyl"
Nadya knew that the art of seducing a person or a society involved creating an aura of something missing in the target of the seducer's life, giving them an escape from the mundane and letting them live through someone else. It also involved scarcity. Once she had seen the gossip writer texting quickly and the rest of the party starting to lean in to find out more, she knew it was time to exit.
The seed had been planted. With that, Nadya took Alistair by the arm, saying, “J, good to see you. We need to go. Be sure to come see our boy fight soon.” Nadya led him away, obscuring them from the group's sight as they disappeared into the crown.