Chapter 10
Oliver Ferraz
Alberto invited me to a club opening today.
I needed to get out, so I agreed right away.
We arrived out front, and even from outside, you could hear the pulsing beats making the floor vibrate slightly under our feet.
The facade was lit up by neon signs in shades of blue and purple, giving the place a sleek, modern vibe.
The line at the door was massive—dozens of well-dressed people waiting anxiously to get in, some laughing loudly, others already half-drunk before even making it through the door.
But since we had VIP access, we wouldn't have to stay there, fighting our way through that rowdy crowd.
We walked up to the security guard, who checked our invitations, unhooked the velvet rope at the exclusive entrance, and waved us through.
I could feel curious stares from the people in line, but I didn't care—I ignored them and walked past, nodding to the bouncers.
Inside, the noise grew even louder—almost deafening.
Lights flashed in sync with the electronic beat.
We headed straight for the VIP area, which was set apart from the main floor and overlooked the dance floor below.
It was a cozy space with a sofa in the corner and a few bistro tables scattered near the massive window.
The music was quieter up here, bearable enough to have a conversation without shouting.
I actually liked the nightclub scene, but after the brutal week I'd had, I was exhausted.
If it weren't for the invitation from Gustavo—the owner and a longtime friend—I probably would have stayed home.
“Oliver, what a pleasure to have you at my club.” Gustavo appeared with a smile, looking elegant in his impeccable suit.
“Thanks for the invitation, Gustavo. Everything looks amazing—really perfect. It could pass for one of those clubs in New York.” “That was the goal.” He beamed with pride.
“I traveled to the States, hired a renowned architect there, and brought the whole concept back. We needed something different around here.”
“It really did turn out perfect.”
I greeted him once more, and after a few minutes of conversation, made my way to the VIP bar. I ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Since we'd taken a cab, I could drink without worrying about driving. My intention was clear: find an interesting woman and take her home at the end of the night.
But the instant I looked up at the staircase leading to the mezzanine, something unexpected happened. A familiar face among a group of women walking in. I raised my eyebrows and had to stare to make sure I wasn't seeing things. But no—it was her. Alice. My secretary.
She was with a few friends, including Catarina, who I knew was Alberto's secretary. I watched Gustavo approach them enthusiastically, greeting Catarina warmly, like they were old friends.
A strange tightness gripped my chest. Part of me wanted to go over, but another part thought it was better to keep my distance. I took another sip of my whiskey and headed back toward Alberto, who was watching the dance floor intently.
“Did you see who just walked in?” I said quietly, almost whispering. He followed my gaze and flashed a mischievous smile. “Well, well—looks like we'll have company. And what beautiful company. Come on, let's go say hello.” “You go ahead. I'd rather stay here.”
He scrunched his nose but didn't push it.
He headed toward them while I stayed where I was, in front of the glass wall that separated us from the rest of the club, watching the dance floor below.
The place was packed—bodies pressed together, moving to the music, drinks and cigarettes in hand.
Beautiful women were everywhere, but none of them really caught my eye.
That's when I heard a voice behind me. “Good evening, boss.
I don't know if you'll remember me, but I'm Catarina, Mr. Alberto's secretary.” She extended her hand politely.
“Of course I remember you, Catarina. Good evening. How are you?” “Very well, thank you.
Excuse me, I'm going to grab a drink at the bar.”
She walked off, and soon I noticed Alice nearby with her other two friends. The bartender was mixing colorful drinks for them. Alice shook her head, reluctant, while her friend insisted she take one.
“I'm not drinking, Cata.” “Yes, you are—just one glass. If you feel sick, there are plenty of people here to carry you.” Catarina laughed and pushed the glass into her hands.
Alice hesitated but finally gave in. It was a colorful fruity drink—probably vodka. Her delicate fingers wrapped around the glass, and still looking skeptical, she brought the straw to her lips and took a small sip.
I couldn't stop watching her. When she walked back toward the glass wall, she stood in the exact spot where I'd been just minutes before.
Her tight black dress looked like it had been custom-made for her body.
The fabric hugged her curves as if it had been designed to provoke.
The red stilettos completed the picture. She was simply stunning.
For a moment, I caught myself imagining what was under that dress. Red lace lingerie to match the shoes? The thought made me hard instantly, and I had to pull the glass away from my mouth before I spilled my drink.
Our eyes met. It was quick but intense. Alice held my gaze, then blinked—subtly, almost imperceptibly. My heart raced. Did she know what she was doing? Was she trying to provoke me? Damn!
Before I could process what had happened, she grabbed Catarina's hand and pulled her toward the staircase leading down to the dance floor. Every nerve in my body went on high alert.
“So, have you picked tonight's victim yet?” Alberto appeared out of nowhere, way too loud. “Shut up, idiot. I'm still looking.” I took another sip. “But so far, nothing's caught my interest.” “You’re too picky. Look around—there are plenty of beautiful women. Starting with those two right there.”
He pointed to the dance floor. My eyes followed, and there they were—Alice and Catarina, dancing like the world was ending that night.
They were pressed close together, bodies moving sensually to the pounding music.
Alice had a light sheen of sweat on her skin, and under the lights, it only made her more attractive.
She downed her drink in one gulp and grabbed another. With each sip, she seemed to loosen up more. Her hips swayed naturally to the beat, her hair swinging loose, her lips slightly parted. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
My cock was already responding on its own, pressing against my pants. Damn it. She was my secretary, for fuck’s sake. This was wrong in every possible way, but with every blink, every smile, every move she made, it got harder to control myself.
And then it happened again: our eyes met across the crowd. This time, Alice didn’t look away. Instead, she raised her glass in a silent toast and smiled.
She was provoking me.
And I knew, with absolute certainty, that if she crossed that thin line between work and desire one more time, I wouldn’t be able to hold back.