C.M.G.M

Bianca remained motionless in the SUV as Isabella stepped out. Three of her men came out of the black sedan that had escorted the SUV and approached her. She said something to them, most probably an instruction, and two of the men left and went into the club, while the last lingered. Isabella turned and saw that Bianca was still seated in the vehicle. 'Are you going to sit there and miss all the action?" She asked, walking closer to the SUV. She opened the car door to ensure Bianca could hear her clearly. 'I asked if you do not want to come along." Bianca slowly turned to face Isabella, her face had unhappiness written all over it. Without saying a word, she unbuckled her seatbelt and motioned to Isabella to move away from the door so she could come down from the car. 'Do I necessarily have to be here?" Bianca asked Isabella with a face that could show how uncomfortable she was. 'You can do your business dealing without involving me," her voice dripped with disdain. 'I am very much not interested in any of that." Isabella was taken by surprise. Bianca didn't complain that she didn't want to come along when she had told her to come, the complaint was unexpected. Why is she now suddenly acting like she was forced? Isabella was confused. 'You didn't tell me you didn't wish to be here, why are you now saying it?" Isabella asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. 'Oh. It would not have made any difference if I said anything." Bianca paused, 'You're not used to being refused or being disobeyed like you would always say. So why waste my time trying to convince you to let me be?" Isabella turned to look at her last man, he came a little closer to her, but she turned away and faced Bianca again. 'I don't have time for this, let's go inside." 'Oh yes, let's go inside. That's what you have to say? I thought so." Bianca snarled. Isabella turned around and began walking into the club. She muttered something over her shoulder, something Bianca could not really tell what it was, but she heard the words. She did not follow Isabella into the club immediately and the last man there just stood still, watching and waiting on her. She chuckled a bit when she realized the words Isabella muttered were to the man and she asked him to bring her in. In sheer strength, he might beat her. But she was a lot faster and more skilled. If she really wanted to leave, this guy was no match for her. The blast of music hit Bianca like a wall as she stepped inside. The club was a sensory overload—strobe lights cutting through the haze of smoke, bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the acrid tang of alcohol and sweat thick in the air. One of Isabella's men signaled from across the room, gesturing toward a shadowed corridor. They were taken through a narrow hallway into a secluded area, from where they couldn't hear any of the boisterous music coming from the main section of the club. The door in front of them was gently opened and they went in. Into the most secret area of Burj Lana nightclub. A private lounge. The room was all dark wood and low lighting, the scent of cigar smoke and expensive whiskey lingering in the air. Isabella was already seated in a high-backed leather armchair, her posture relaxed but her eyes alert. Across from her sat two men: one a middle-aged bald man with a mean looking face that looked a lot like a clenched fist, the other younger, probably in his late twenties, with a heavy beard and a Homburg hat tilted low over his eyes. On his knuckles were tattooed something that looked like an initials; C.M.G.M. the ink faded but still legible. 'Join me," Isabella said, patting the empty chair beside her. Her tone left no room for refusal. Bianca hesitated, then sat, her body language screaming reluctance. The leather creaked under her weight as she crossed her legs, her gaze flickering between the strangers. The younger man's lips curled into a smirk as he leaned forward, his tattooed knuckles flexing. "Now that we're all here," Isabella began, her voice smooth as silk, "shall we begin?" The bald man exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke, his eyes never leaving Bianca. "Yeah," he rumbled. "Let's."