Alara's Dance (Chapter 3)
Synopsis: (18+) Alara is a dancer entangled in a drug trafficking ring that has taken over the city, leading to multiple murders, with all signs pointing to her involvement. When she meets headstrong detective Nanami Kento, they find themselves struggling against a natural attraction toward each other.
Warning: Graphic language, sex, smut. sexual themes, violence.
Alara’s fears were heightened as she sat alone in her penthouse, the vast city skyline sprawled out before her, dotted with neon lights and the few stars visible in the city. The events of the previous night played on a loop in her mind, each iteration making her dread the consequences even more. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had crossed a line, one that might not be forgiven. She glanced at her phone, wishing for it to light up. Her sister hadn’t replied to her texts, which wasn’t completely unusual, but when Alara sent an S.O.S., her sister was typically quick to respond. With twenty-four hours nearly up, her nerves were frayed.
Walking over to her kitchen, she popped open a bottle of expensive red wine and poured herself a generous glass. She downed it like it was water, hoping it would numb her against what was coming. She suspected Mahito would return to berate her, but her expectations were vastly different from the reality that awaited. Taking another gulp, she opened the side table drawer and stared at Nanami’s business card. It called to her, a lifeline dangling just out of reach, but she fought the urge once again. Whatever was coming, she would face it alone. She had always managed to handle herself, even when the odds were stacked against her.
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a faint knock at her door. It was light, almost tentative—a knock that could only mean her sister. Usually, the men who came to snatch her up for private dances pounded on the door. She ran over and opened it, immediately falling back when she saw who was standing there. Her eyes widened and her heart raced. Towering over her was Geto, one of the leaders of the ring. He was usually in charge of deals and liaisons with clients. Alara had only met him twice, each encounter more terrifying than the last. He had never touched her, but his sheer presence was intimidating enough.
Alara stepped back as he walked in. There were no other men with him, no Mahito—nothing. His large build seemed to make her spacious penthouse shrink. She closed the door behind him and stood near it, her back pressed against the cool surface. He looked around, eyeing the décor with a smile that would usually put people at ease, but on him, it only made him more menacing. He was handsome, with a mane of lush, healthy black hair, always neatly done, and even his nails were manicured to perfection.
He said nothing for a solid three minutes, just taking in his surroundings before finally turning his attention to Alara. His eyes were dark, with pupils so small they gave him a unique, unsettling look. Alara looked away, unable to maintain eye contact. She noticed that he was dressed in black jeans, black running shoes, and a dri-fit shirt that hugged every muscle of his chiseled frame.
He must have noticed her scrutiny because he finally spoke. “I just left the gym. I was only able to change my pants. I apologize if my attire isn’t fitting for the occasion.”
Alara was in shorts and an oversized shirt, feeling exposed despite her casual attire. She didn’t know what occasion he could be referring to. He watched her, his head tilted in amusement, finding her reactions almost endearing. He placed his hands behind his back and walked over to her slowly. As large as his feet were, his footsteps were nearly silent against the marble floors. Alara’s back was already to the door, and she wished she could disappear into the hallway. He walked up to her, his chest puffed out and eyes locked onto hers. Her gaze only reached his chest, her hands still by her sides. Unlike Mahito, he smelled of expensive cologne with a hint of pine. Alara glanced up slightly, catching him looking straight down at her. Her eyes darted to his chin, noting his strong jawline. This man was strong on his own. Alara bit her lip as she saw his hand move. Without saying a word, he locked the door behind her, and she flinched at the sound of the click.
Whatever he was going to do, she knew she wouldn’t win. He let his nose graze the top of her hairline, taking in her scent. She had just showered, and the wild berry body wash fragrance filled the room.
His hand went to her waist, causing her to shake under his touch. He immediately grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. “That shaking shit stops tonight,” he whispered in a deadly tone.
His voice... Alara had almost forgotten how it sounded. He continued, placing his hands on her shoulders, feeling them as if examining merchandise. Alara looked away, but he used a hand to force her to look at him. She closed her eyes, and he brought his lips a breath away from hers.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded. Alara opened them slowly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. He released her face and stepped back to observe her demeanor. “The most beautiful woman in the country even looks beautiful when she cries.” He sighed theatrically. “I was sent here to talk to you. And I thought to myself, how could I convince her to do the very job she was hired to do?” Alara looked at him, her tears flowing freely. “You’re our most prized possession. I know you haven’t been with anyone since…” he let his words trail off, aware of how sensitive the subject was. “Well, you know…” He smirked. “I thought maybe reminding you of what sex and intimacy are would help you, but I just don’t have the heart to do it when you’re obviously uncomfortable.”
She knew he was mocking her. If he wanted to do more, he could, and he knew it.
“To be honest, if I could give you a night you’d never forget I would, but the head thinks leaving you untouched is best.” He paused, watching her reaction. “I mean, best for our client. It’s not like you have to do this with everyone. Just the most influential clients. With Choso being our most powerful client at the moment, your services are needed.” He noticed the opened wine bottle in the kitchen and walked over to grab it. Without using a glass, he drank straight from the bottle. He let out a moan of satisfaction. “This is really fucking good.”
Alara followed him, keeping a safe distance. Her voice came out soft, barely above a whisper. “I was told ages ago that I would never have to do things like this.”
Geto shrugged. “And? You act as if laws and policies never change. I used to be the damn accountant before being moved up to this position! You will play your part like everyone else.”
“Or what?” Alara asked, her voice trembling. “What are you going to do to me?”
He took another swig. “Not what you think.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jewelry box, large enough for a bracelet. He pushed it across the island and continued to drink the wine.
Alara looked at the box, suspicion etched on her face. “Bribes?” She scoffed. “You want to bribe me?”
He gave a sideways smile that didn’t sit easy with her. “I wouldn’t consider this a bribe, baby. Open it.”
“No,” she argued, finding her voice more forcefully.
“It wasn’t an option. Open. The damn. Box.” His raised voice was enough to make her obey. She snatched the box from the counter, feeling how light it was. Opening it, she let out an ungodly scream that shook the building. The box fell to the floor, its contents spilling out. “Now why would you drop your gift like that?” Geto walked around the island, picking up everything that had fallen. He placed it back in the box and left it open on the counter for her to see.
“You see, Alara, we have ways of keeping you in your place. You usually stay in your lane. Giving up a little pussy isn’t going to kill you, but not listening to us when we warn you will kill you. Or should I say those around you. Do you not understand that?” He kept walking towards her, his speech uninterrupted. “If it makes you feel better, Choso isn’t ugly, and he doesn’t smell like Mahito. He can be a little weird but you’ll get past it. We can give you some drugs if that makes you feel better, but we also need you lucid.” He got in her face, his nose tip touching hers. “Based on your reaction, I think you finally got the message. So, let’s go over what you’re going to do tomorrow afternoon at two. Mahito is going to come over, pick you up, drop you off at the hotel, you do what Choso says, and then you come home. Hell, take the rest of the week off if you want.” Geto clapped his hands together, the sound startling her.
Her eyes were still glued to the box on the counter. Geto went over to it and put it in her face.
“Understand that this was us being nice.” He tossed the box on the couch and touched her face gently. “He’ll be gentle.” He unlocked the door and as he walked out, Alara reached out to him.
He turned, looking down at her delicate hands clutched to his arm. His empathy was barely existent, but seeing her head bowed and tears falling to the floor sparked a flicker of something close to pity.
“Please, tell me please… Is my sister okay? Is she still alive?”
He grabbed her hand and rubbed it. “She’s alive and safely back at her home. You might want to call her though. I’m sure she’s pissed at you for causing this.”
He walked out, allowing Alara to finally close the door and lock it. She fell to the ground, her sobs echoing in the empty home. She glanced at the contents of the box spread across her couch, her cries growing louder as the night went on.
There was truly no way out.
Nanami stared at the pictures from Alara’s most recent ventures. She had been taken back to the hotel and had complied the entire time. Her face was neutral, as if the soul had been taken out of her. From what he could find, the last five years of her life had been scrubbed from any records.
Gojo placed some papers on Nanami’s desk and sat down beside him. “How does someone go from a successful social media marketer to a dancer for a sketchy gang?” Gojo asked, still puzzled by her story. “Records show she’s lived in three different places, but I think they got someone to remove a bunch of other information about her.”
“Which means they have people working on the inside. Cops, judges, security…” Nanami’s mind went back to the first night he visited the lounge. “That thug, the guy with the tattoo across the bridge of his nose. We need to find out who he is.”
“I’ll search the database,” Gojo said, typing furiously on the computer.
Nanami felt his phone buzz and saw that it was from an unknown number. He was always reluctant to answer unknown calls, but he hoped it was from Alara.
“Kento,” he answered dryly.
He heard light breathing and waited patiently for a response. He knew it was her. For some reason, he held his breath. There was something about her that was mysterious beyond her dancer persona. Nanami went to one of the conference rooms to have more privacy.
“Alara,” his voice melted through the line, bringing her comfort. His heart quickened, an involuntary reaction whenever he thought of her.
“I shouldn’t have called you,” she whispered.
“But you did,” he replied softly. “Alara, whatever you need, I’m here to help you.”
“That’s the thing, detective. You can’t help me.”
“Alara,” he called again, his voice dripping with honey, causing Alara’s heart to race every time he said her name. She felt an unspoken connection, a warmth in his tone that made her chest tighten. “We can’t help you if you don’t let us. I can protect you.”
“And who will protect you?”
The line went silent after that. Her fears went beyond just her safety, and Nanami took note of that. “I can meet you somewhere, alone.”
“No,” she said. “I have too many eyes on me. I was stupid to call.” Before he could get another word in, she hung up.
Gojo barged into the room, carrying some photos with him. “The guy with the face tattoo was a marine. He went up the ranks and eventually retired. They brought him back on for national security. I’d bet good money they used her to get some type of deal or relationship. They’re aiming to corrupt the entire fucking national system and it all starts with this guy.”
“I have an idea,” Nanami said, still feeling the lingering warmth from his brief conversation with Alara. “But I need the feds to pull it off.”
“Are we talking an undercover mission?”
Nanami nodded. “That’s the only way we’ll be able to get solid evidence.”
As Gojo continued to talk, Nanami found his thoughts drifting back to Alara. Her voice, even in distress, had a soothing effect on him. He wanted to gain her trust, to show her that she wasn’t alone. The thought of her brought an unexpected flutter to his chest, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He knew this wasn’t just about the case anymore; it was about protecting her, earning her trust, and maybe, just maybe, being the one she could rely on.
Alara was in her dressing room, staring at herself in the mirror. The hickeys on her neck had faded, and the bruises on her thighs had lightened. She had taken the last few days to recover from what had happened—not so much physically, but mentally. She felt violated, disgusted with herself. Nights were the hardest; she’d lie awake, haunted by the memory of Choso’s rough hands and cruel words. But when the stress of it all became too much, she could hear Nanami’s deep and melodic voice calling her name. Her fantasies had been filled with tender moments and passionate embrace with someone who cherished her. Someone like Nanami. But men like Choso only knew power and control. His touches felt like spikes, and no matter how handsome or rich he was, he was repulsive. The things he had said to her that night echoed in her mind, filthy and dehumanizing. Yet, she had managed to keep a straight face, long enough to survive. She played her part and she played it well.
Tonight, she had already danced twice, thanks to the influx of clients Choso had brought in. The lounge was at capacity, the air thick with the scent of cigars and musky cologne. The faces in the crowd varied from athletes to baby politicians, all basking in the decadence of Grey’s Den. She looked at her reflection, tracing her fingers over her cheek, mourning the woman she used to be. Tears threatened to spill, but she swallowed them down as Geto’s dark figure filled the doorway. He had been more involved with her affairs lately, ensuring she remembered her place.
She grabbed her lipstick and reapplied it with shaky hands. “What?” she snapped; her voice laced with frustration. Even the sound of his breathing irritated her.
“I’d think twice about how you talk to me,” he warned, his tone cold. “I’m just doing my job.”
“At least have a heart,” she pleaded, her eyes searching his for a glimmer of compassion. But there was none. This entire organization was devoid of empathy. They were all driven by money and power. She didn’t belong here.
Geto’s gaze remained locked on hers through the mirror, unyielding. “I guess you should brace yourself for more bad news. We have a new client who has requested a dance with you. According to security, he’s been here twice before, scoping the place.” Alara placed her lipstick down, her movements slow and deliberate.
“He said you’re familiar with him. After a little digging, it turns out this man is a billionaire from Denmark.”
“I’m not familiar with a billionaire. I think I’d remember that,” Alara argued, her voice trembling as she began fixing her hair. Geto stepped closer, his aura radiating dread.
“Most billionaires don’t announce themselves. Snipers are quite popular these days,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. “He is our most valuable client and you’re out most valuable player.”
“No!” Alara screamed, the word torn from her lips, filled with desperation.
Geto slapped her across the face without hesitation. “When you say no, I look bad. I am in this position for a reason. Sometimes I think the head boss gives you too much freedom because you keep forgetting you’re still a classless bitch. This man slapped five million dollars on our desks. Came in with a full escort. You have no choice.”
Alara held her face, the sting of the slap radiating through her skull, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.
“Get your ass up and fix yourself. He’s expecting you in the Great Room.” Geto stormed out, leaving Alara to process the shocking violence she had just endured. She’d never been hit like this before. The little power she had was completely drained. She turned back to the mirror, her hand still pressed to her stinging cheek. She stared at herself, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. She had no choice but to comply. Her dreams of freedom seemed more distant than ever.
With a heavy heart, she fixed her makeup. She stared at her reflection, her mind a storm of fear and defiance. Then she forced herself to smile, a wide, dazzling grin that masked her turmoil. Like a starlet on the brink of her big break, she was ready to put on a performance. Slipping into her shawl and high heels, she walked out of the room and towards the back, ready to face whatever awaited her with a courage she didn’t feel.
Alara walked to the Great Room and saw Mahito standing by the door. She scoffed at his presence. Holding out a blindfold, he lifted it to her face. “According to the new client, he likes a little role-play. You’ll put this on. That way you won’t be able to see how grotesque he is.” She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
Alara scowled, imagining who this man could be. She had never seen anyone described as grotesque in the lounge. The fear she thought she had swallowed suddenly came back up with force. Grabbing the blindfold, she walked inside the Great Room. The lights were dimmed and lined with red neon. There was champagne on ice and two crystal wine glasses waiting to be used. Alara was tempted to chug the wine but decided against it. One thing she hated about these rooms was the lack of security. No cameras and soundproof.
Putting on the blindfold, she stood in the middle of the room. She told herself she was just an actress, taking on another role for the masses. It would be fine. She’d be just fine. Alara’s legs shook as the door creaked open. The loud sound of the lock turning made her skin crawl. As the footsteps neared, a song came on—“Careless Whisper,” a classic. Alara waited for instructions of some sort, but to her surprise, they never came. Instead, she felt a pair of large hands touch her waist in the gentlest manner. Keeping his body a respectable distance, he finally spoke.
“Don’t panic,” he whispered softly in her ear. Alara gasped, unable to believe this was real.
“Is this a joke?” she replied, scared to remove her blindfold.
He turned her gently as they swayed. Pulling her closer, he removed the blindfold from her eyes. She froze, seeing the one person she’d been thinking about nonstop. Her words caught in her throat as tears began to flow.
“We have to infiltrate. This could take months, maybe a year. What I do know is that I need your help to get to the top.” He placed her hand in his, leaving a hand on her waist. He began slow dancing with her, wanting to make her feel safe. “Alara, I need you to trust me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “If they catch me—”
“You’re safe with me,” he assured her.
“Why do you want to help me?” she asked. “I don’t know the head boss or even the man under him. I’m useless.”
“Alara,” he called softly. Once again, the way he said her name caused an explosion of butterflies in her stomach. “I want to protect you. I don’t know your story, but what I do know is that you don’t belong here.” They stopped swaying as the music started coming to an end. “Play along.”
Nanami grabbed her hand and pulled her to the hallway. Mahito stopped playing on his phone and stared at the pair. “Oh shit, what did she do?”
“Nothing. Where’s Geto, the man with the hair?” Nanami said in a foreign accent. Alara’s face was still stained with tears, but she assumed Nanami wanted that before they dried.
“Keep your head down. Act sad,” Nanami whispered to her.
Mahito led them to an office where Geto was. He was counting money with the widest grin on his face until he saw Nanami with Alara. “Fuck, what did she do?”
Nanami glared at him. “You’re the second person to say that. Does she mess up a lot?” he asked in his strong accent.
Geto stood up and bowed profusely. “No, sir. She just has her moments.” Geto shot Alara a look and saw the tears on her face.
“I enjoyed my dance,” Nanami voiced. “How much for a night with her?”
Mahito and Geto looked at each other before letting their smiles spread across their faces. “As we’ve only done this once before, we’ll give you a discount. A million for the night.”
“How about this,” Nanami suggested. “Tomorrow, she’s mine for the whole day. And when I’m done, she’s on retainer. Meaning she’s not to be touched by anyone else. The moment I hear she’s been requested by another man, I will snatch back my money so fast you’ll get whiplash.” Alara looked at him in surprise. He was a pro at this. “Of course, I’ll pay handsomely. If I like what I get tomorrow, then I can see myself for the long haul. Or until I’m tired of her.”
“It’s a fucking deal,” Geto said with the biggest grin. Mahito was celebrating quietly in the corner as the men shook hands. Alara felt uneasy, feeling like this had to break some type of moral grounds and laws for cops. “Alara, you might want to take the night off. I’m sure Mr. Borges would like to pick you up bright and early tomorrow.”
“I can take her home as well,” Nanami replied. He took out a wad of cash and threw it at Geto. “Something for you, Mr. Suguru.”
Geto caught the cash, and his eyes had never been brighter. As they walked out, Nanami followed behind her closely. She couldn’t fully trust him yet; he had literally just bought her. None of this shit was normal and she was in fight or flight mode. Alara packed her items and stayed silent as Nanami stayed by the door.
“If this is a sick joke, I’m not laughing.” Alara was holding back tears once again, feeling a headache coming on from the stress.
“It’s not a joke,” he said. “When we get to your place, I’ll explain what I can. There are people waiting for you there anyway.”
She turned her head swiftly. “There are people at my apartment?”
“Not inside. Just trust me.”
The car ride home was pretty silent. Alara was hyper-focused on the road as Nanami drove.
“To save us some time when we get there, I’ll give you a rundown.” Nanami glanced over at Alara. She was spaced out and scared, her body still trembling from the shock of their encounter in the room. He could see the fear on her face, her eyes distant. “I brought this persona to the feds. We agreed that I’d go undercover since my existence on the internet is, well, nonexistent.” Alara didn’t flinch. Her eyes remained fixed straight ahead, unseeing.
“At your place, Gojo, my captain, and a few other men who are cosplaying as my security will be there. Basically, other detectives from different branches who are anonymous. Lastly, the Attorney General.”
“The Attorney General?” Alara’s voice quivered as panic set in. “The person under the President?”
Nanami looked over at her, finally making eye contact. “Yeah. I promise you, he’s on our side. I did my due diligence.”
Alara’s mind raced, her thoughts jumbled and chaotic. She didn’t care if the Attorney General was on their side or not. The thought of her secrets being uncovered and the possibility of being imprisoned with the men they were planning to take down made her stomach churn with dread. They pulled up to her place with Nanami’s fake security trailing behind them. Alara felt a surge of intimidation wash over her as the men flanked her.
As she walked to her door, they stayed close, an ever-present reminder of the gravity of the situation. She opened the door with trembling hands, her heart pounding in her chest. Soon after, the Attorney General and all of Nanami’s superiors walked in. Gojo, who had always seemed laid-back, now looked more serious than she had ever seen him.
Alara sat down on her couch, feeling the weight of their gazes on her. Every single one of them looked down at her, as if she were about to be punished. Nanami sat beside her and gave her a soft smile, his presence a small comfort amidst the unknown. The rest of the men took spots in her living room, pulling a few chairs from the dining area.
The Attorney General sat down across from Alara, his expression stern yet tired. He placed a briefcase and a tape recorder on the table in front of him.
“I’m Higuruma Hiromi. The reason I’m here is because you’re our key to the downfall of corruption across major cities and our government. What we’re up against are some pretty powerful players. You’re the only way to reach the top.”
Alara looked over at Nanami for assurance before she spoke. She felt like she could trust him to an extent but doubt still lingered in the corners of her mind. She took a deep breath and looked around the room, her gaze finally settling on Higuruma. “Some things you might find out about me could result in prosecution. If you want my help, I want full immunity for anything I say or anything you may find that I did that was illegal.”
“Did you murder someone or something?” Higuruma asked in a joking manner, trying to lighten the mood.
“Full immunity,” she demanded, her voice unwavering.
Higuruma glanced at Nanami, then back at her. “Full immunity is granted,” he stated firmly.
“And I want protection for my family,” Alara demanded again, her voice trembling but resolute.
“Does your family live in the city?” Higuruma asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.
“No. My sister lives a few cities over, and my parents are in the rural outskirts. I want protection for all of them during and after the fact,” she explained, her eyes pleading for understanding.
Higuruma nodded, accepting her terms without hesitation. “Full immunity and protection. Got it.”
“Don’t I sign something?” she asked, her voice softening, almost sweetly.
“It’s recorded, there’s no need, but paperwork will be sent your way,” Higuruma replied reassuringly.
“I’ll talk when the paperwork comes. Until then, the protection starts now.” Alara reached into her side table drawer and pulled out a small jewelry box. Her hands shook as she placed it on the coffee table. “The reason is because...” her voice trailed off, heavy with emotion. “They’ve already made it clear they’ll hurt or kill anyone around me if I go against them.” Alara couldn’t bear to look at the box any longer.
Gojo stepped forward, curiosity and concern written on his face. He opened the box, only to recoil in horror, covering his mouth. “Holy shit.”
“They took three of my sister’s fingers and gifted them to me. She won’t talk to me, and I can’t just throw them away.” Alara's voice broke, tears streaming down her face. She buried her head in her hands, her body wracked with sobs. The enormity of her situation, the constant fear, and the worry for her family had finally overwhelmed her. One of the agents took the box and placed it in a forensics bag, bringing slight relief to Alara’s burden.
Nanami reached out and placed a comforting hand on her back, his touch gentle and reassuring. “We’ll protect you, Alara. I promise.”
Higuruma nodded solemnly. “Your safety and your family’s safety are our top priorities. We need you to help us bring down this operation, and we’ll make sure you’re safe while doing so.”
Alara wiped her tears and took a shaky breath. “Alright. I’ll do it. But I need those papers, and I need them fast.”
“We’ll have them by tomorrow,” Higuruma assured her. “For now, rest. We’ll have agents outside your apartment all night.”
“That’ll set off alarms,” she cried, feeling as though her fate has already been sealed. “I’ll be fine.”
As everyone filed out of the room, Alara clung to Nanami, her chest tightening with fear and anxiety. He looked down at her hands wrapped around his arm, noticing how her glossy eyes shimmered in the light, reflecting her gratitude. Turning to her, he took the chance to hold her close, his arms encircling her protectively. His feelings for her hadn’t waned; if anything, they had only grown stronger. But he knew he had to tread carefully, to not cross a line. At least, he’d try not to.
“Thank you,” she sobbed into his chest, her voice muffled but full of raw emotion. “Thank you.”
Nanami held her tighter, taking in all of her gratitude in this moment. He stroked her hair gently, offering what comfort he could. “You’re safe with me, Alara. I promise.”
For a moment, they stood there, enveloped in each other’s presence. In that small space of time, there was a glimmer of something pure and hopeful. Nanami knew the road ahead would be difficult, but with Alara in his arms, he felt a renewed sense of purpose.
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