The Manila Adventures Pt. 01

(Due to her husband Richard's job requirements, Grace moved to Taiwan with him. This occurred two months after her unusual encounters with three homeless individuals.)

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In addition to the VIP lounge, Grace, has gone around the whole "Hilas" casino. The noisy scene is no different from when she first came here a few years ago. It is still crowded with people. There are always more spectators who do not go to the gambling table than gamblers. This seems to be the characteristic of every casino in Manila. They are not as luxurious and grand as Las Vegas, nor as noisy and crowded as those casinos in Macau. Compared with Australian casinos, they look much older. However, the overall feeling of Hilas is still kind. Perhaps because of this, Grace, who had always wanted to drag her fiance Richard, to dance, has been wandering around leisurely so far.

As soon as Richard entered the casino, he jumped on the blackjack table. Grace knew that it was his favourite. So although she had walked again around the field and stood behind him, she dared not disturb him. However, she guessed that Richard was not good luck, because there were few chips left in front of him.

Grace quietly walked away and went straight to a Baccarat table to kill time. She was not worried about Richard's winning or losing. Because as long as he did not enter the VIP room to gamble, with the general betting limitation of Hilas, for Richard who has always lost more and won less, even if he would have lost all the way until dawn, it was just a piece of cake.

However, Grace did not want Richard to gamble for too long tonight, because in addition to her real desire to dance, it has been three days since she came to the Philippines. In order to socialize with customers and manufacturers, Richard always went back to the hotel drunk and fell asleep almost every night. And since today is a rare, carefree weekend with nothing to do, Grace--already well-rested from sleeping in--naturally longed for her husband to give her a passionate tropical night.

More than an hour later, Grace returned to Richard's table again, and the gamblers on both sides of him had changed. At first, she did not notice who those two people were, but when one of them turned around and greeted her, "Hi! Hello, Miss Yang, we meet again."

Grace exclaimed with a sweet, surprised laughter, "Ah... I never expected to run into you again here."

In fact, neither Grace nor her husband was close to these two--they had met only once at best--but she remembered them vividly. Indeed, during their flight to Manila, she and Richard had sat in the same business-class row as these two. Grace had been seated right next to the grinning, gold-capped dwarf who now smiled at her. His squat frame, stubby knobby-knuckled fingers that seemed perpetually grimy, and swarthy unpleasant features made him truly unforgettable--especially when combined with his jarring Taiwanese-accented Mandarin and the self-made arrogance that made people avoid him at all costs.

But being on a plane, Grace had no choice but to play along. Besides, as the saying goes, you can never be too polite--and these people were raving about her looks and figure. Truth be told, she secretly could not help but enjoy their blunt and straightforward compliments.

However, during the over-an-hour flight, though Grace was already used to men's greedy stares and gazes, she still felt extremely uncomfortable under the damn dwarf's persistent scrutiny. In the end, she had to cover her curvaceous and alluring figure with a blanket. Richard, however, remained oblivious to all this, as he spent the entire journey talking about golf with the guy who greeted she earlier.

Grace did not even know their surnames. She only remembered Richard had exchanged name cards with them. Earlier, the three of them had been together, but now only the tall guy and the stocky, gold-toothed man were present--the other, lean-faced middle-aged man was nowhere to be seen.

Just then, Gold-Tooth stood up and said, "Come--come--take my seat."

Grace protested politely, "No need, no need. Please keep your seat--I don't play these games."

It surprised Grace to run into Gold-Tooth and his companions just three days since parting ways at the airport. After exchanging pleasantries with them briefly, she was about to ask Richard to take her dancing when he beat her to it: "Sweetheart, why don't you try something else? I'm teaming up with Mr. Zhang here to battle the dealer for a few rounds."

Upon hearing Richard's words, her heart sank. She knew all too well that not only had her plan to avoid Gold-Tooth's group through dancing evaporated, but she would likely spend another night sighing over her solitude, embraced only by silken quilts as the hours crawled by. This scenario had played out countless times--she understood better than anyone how stubborn Richard's gambling nature was. Especially with partners egging him on, he would never leave the table until every last chip was gone.

With resignation, Grace urged her husband, "I'll play slot machines over there. Don't get carried away." Without turning, Richard responded casually, "I know. Oh, and if you get tired, head back to the hotel to sleep--don't wait up for me."

Grace's heart plunged to its depths once more. After murmuring a vague acknowledgment, she turned and drifted toward the clusters of slot machines without another word. Although her expression wistful and forlorn, yet her breathtakingly radiant beauty and unparalleled allure still compelled men to turn their heads, staring intently as she passed.

Her statuesque 5'7" frame and hourglass figure--with its alluring 36D-24-35 curves--were sheathed in a figure-hugging evening gown featuring a daringly low back and ultra-mini hemline. The vermilion fabric set off her porcelain-smooth skin, making it appear even more radiant and luminous. Her long, straight legs--sculpted like polished jade--were accentuated by vermilion three-inch strappy heels. With every step she took, the movement sent a subtle quiver through the full, rounded curves of her chest.

Observant onlookers might even detect the subtle movement of her braless silhouette--the distinct points straining against the fabric, hinting at a spirited rebellion beneath the surface.

Both Gold-Tooth and Mr. Zhang kept swiveling their heads to watch Grace's alluring figure retreating. Her center-parted ponytail swayed in perfect sync with the glinting silver shield earrings that danced at her temples--each movement seeming like a deliberate provocation meant to tease and tantalize them.

Grace happened to glance back over her shoulder just then, bringing her face-to-face with both men. For reasons unknown, they locked eyes in a lingering gaze before finally turning away--though Richard, completely engrossed in the card game, remained oblivious to this unfolding behind him.

Fuming in silence, Grace quickly lost all five hundred dollars in chips. Just as she opened her dainty purse to exchange more, an entire bucket of tokens suddenly appeared before her. She spun around to find Gold-Tooth looming behind her. "What's this?" she snapped.

Gold-Tooth promptly plunked another bucket of tokens onto her machine, grinning. "Been fighting alongside your future husband over there but kept losing, so I switched sides to team up with you--maybe our luck's better together."

Grace jabbed her finger toward several empty machines nearby. "Why not play over there by yourself?"

Still grinning, he insisted, "You've pumped plenty into this beast already, right? Bet the jackpot's ready to drop. Come on, let's play together--I'll cover all bets from now on!"

After a moment's thought, Grace conceded he had a point. After all--she'd already fed this slot machine five hundred dollars. Abandoning it now or letting someone else play felt wrong. Still, she refused to take advantage of Gold-Tooth's offer. She pulled all the cash from her purse and handed it to him. "Here's five hundred. Let's split the costs with a thousand in chips."

But Gold-Tooth shook his head firmly. "Hold on--what about the five hundred you just lost?"

Caught off guard by his refusal to exploit her losses, she turned to study him. "Then add another five hundred from your end."

Gold-Tooth seemed taken aback by her easy agreement, his face lighting up as he eagerly combined both buckets of tokens. "Perfect! That makes two grand--exactly $2000 worth right here. Let's team up and crack this machine!"

And so, Grace--who'd initially disliked Gold-Tooth--found herself unexpectedly playing alongside him. At first, they took turns pressing buttons and pulling the lever with reserved politeness. But soon, whether it was the piercing chimes of winning coins pulsing through upbeat music that heightened their excitement, or the contagious gambling fever radiating from the machine itself, their inhibitions melted away. Within minutes, they were playfully scuffling like old friends, each vying for control of the controls--sometimes each gripping a different part of the machine, other times with hands overlapping and tangling over the lever. Yet no real arguments arose: Gold-Tooth usually yielded to Grace and occasionally, she'd allow him to cover her hand as they pulled the lever together.

As minutes ticked by, the alternating cheers during winning streaks and shared groans at near-misses drew Grace unconsciously closer to Gold-Tooth. All along, his true intentions lay elsewhere--those thick, stubby hands seized every fleeting opportunity for surreptitious touches on her sensuous form. Yet he masked his advances masterfully: a guiding hand on her shoulder here, a congratulatory pat on the arm there, even a brief waist-touch disguised as steadying her balance. Each move was a strategic retreat after minimal contact, crafting airtight plausible deniability against accusations of harassment.

Grace was far from oblivious to those wandering paws--after all, Gold-Tooth had meticulously flaunted the Rolex President studded with diamonds (worth at least $150,000) on his left wrist and the oval emerald ring dominating his middle finger, searing their opulence into her memory. What truly intrigued her, however, were the square-cut diamond (easily five carats) and the marble-sized cat's eye sapphire adorning his right hand. A pity such treasures were shackled to those grimy, sausage-like fingers.

Gold-Tooth's hands now rested on her shoulders--a gesture some might deem overfamiliar, but to her well-traveled eyes, it registered as harmless. She knew precisely what vantage point her pose afforded: perched sideways on the stool, she left her half-bare, sculpted décolletage fully exposed to his gaze from behind. Several times when she leaned forward, she could almost feel his predatory stare tracing the deep plunge of her neckline. Yet to Grace, with her four years in Parisian nights, such brazen ogling remained comfortably within the bounds of the bearable.

To claim those two thousand dollars in tokens were long gone would be untrue--in reality, four or five empty buckets were already stacked at her feet. Though Grace knew she'd overindulged, every time she tried to stop, Gold-Tooth would immediately summon a server to refill bucket after bucket. Worse, he'd egged her on to max out the hundred-dollar bets every single spin. Before long, another pile of token buckets towered beside her.

When she tried to call it quits again, he had already bought two fresh buckets. But after scanning the mountain of empties at her feet, she gasped, "Whoa! How much have we actually lost?... I think we need a break."

This time, Gold-Tooth pressed his mouth to her ear. "Don't worry--just a little longer."

Staring at the token graveyard, the uneasy beauty still hesitated. "But... we've already dumped so much cash."

He murmured against her cheek like sharing a secret: "Relax! I drop more than that on a whim in the VIP room. Go wild--I'll cover every loss."

"I couldn't possibly..." Flustered by his offer, she insisted, "No, we'll split it fifty-fifty."

In the next half hour alone, she burned through four more buckets. Though Gold-Tooth was eager to continue, Grace---finally surfacing from the hour-long trance--pushed herself up wearily. "I need a drink. And a break."

Sipping her cold drink while settling accounts with Gold-Tooth, Grace gaped in shock upon learning they'd lost twelve thousand dollars total. "Heavens! Does that mean I owe you five grand?"

With mock humor, Gold-Tooth quipped, "I take cards--though cash only for the processing fee."

Rummaging through her dainty purse, she admitted frankly, "I've only got a few hundred pesos left. Guess I'll need to get the money from my husband later."

Unexpectedly, Gold-Tooth turned dead serious: "What if he's nearly busted too? Can't afford to lose my shirt over this."

Grace knew his words struck true. Being straightforward by nature, she had no patience for further dithering. Without hesitation, she pulled out her business card and handed it to Gold-Tooth. "Here's my contact. If your dire prediction comes true," she stated coolly, "I'll repay you--with accruing interest--once we're back in Taiwan. Would that satisfy you?"

Gold-Tooth scrutinized her business card before handing it back after a deliberate pause. "An address would provide enhanced security," he remarked smoothly, "though... I'd understand if you decline."

Grace shot him a glare, jaw clenched as she demanded a pen from a server. Scribbling her home address on the card's back, she cursed inwardly at being entangled with this lowlife. Suddenly slamming the pen down, she looked up defiantly: "Should I draft the IOU while I'm at it?"

Grace expected him to back down, but instead Gold-Tooth nodded with perfectly serious enthusiasm. "Even better! Miss Yang, I always knew you were a straight shooter."

Bristling with fury, she barely restrained the urge to slap that increasingly repulsive face. Yet with her pledge already made, she forced herself to ask a server for blank paper. As she scribbled the IOU, she snapped at Gold-Tooth: "Your real name? Surely I can't write 'Mr. Gold-Teeth' on this slip?"

Gold-Tooth remained utterly unfazed by her sarcasm. Instead, he presented his business card with both hands in a ceremonious flourish. "An honor to make your acquaintance, Miss Yang."

As Yang Pei took the card, the name "Lü Youtu" struck her as painfully apt. Dripping in gold and gems, the man radiated nothing but earthy crudeness--a textbook parvenu. Yet when her eyes landed on "President, Fort City Development Co., Ltd.," she shot him a second glance. As a creative director at an ad agency, she knew this renowned construction giant dominating Northern Taiwan well. It stunned her that such a prestigious company could have such an unimpressive figurehead.

Scrawling the IOU, she groused internally: And what a petty-minded miser to boot.

Grace handed the completed IOU to Lü Youtu. "Satisfied now?"

Instead of answering, Lü studied the slip intently before marveling, "Remarkable! Miss Yang, your beauty matches your elegant name--and even your handwriting dazzles. Truly exceptional!"

Unsettled by his abrupt shift to flattery--a tactic she'd endured on their flight--Grace's lingering irritation sharpened her tongue. "Likewise, President Lü," she congratulated with a sardonic edge. "Your name mirrors your... distinctive charm. As the saying goes: Where there's land, there's wealth. How fitting."

To her surprise, Gold-Tooth beamed as if reading her mind. "Lü Youtu--crude as crude can be--dirt-cheap!" he declared, chuckling at his own joke.

Grace flustered, stammered, "Why... would you... describe yourself that way? I..."

Gold-Tooth cut her off. "No need. Back in primary school, my classmates teased me just like this. I've grown thick skin!" He chuckled warmly. "So scold away--I know exactly who I am."

Suddenly, Grace recognized the unassuming man before her was no ordinary upstart. Beneath that uncouth nouveau riche exterior lay depths of hard-worn worldliness. Besides, a debt was a debt--securing repayment was only prudent. Straightening her posture, she met Lü's gaze: "I apologize, Mr. Lü... I overstepped."

Yet again, he waved away her apology. "Truly, it's nothing. I know you're cross with me." His eyes twinkled. "But Miss Yang--that pout of yours? Exquisite. Has anyone ever told you that?"

The unexpected compliment flushed Grace's cheeks, leaving her momentarily speechless. After a pause, she grabbed her purse. "Mr. Lü, if the IOU's acceptable, I'll take my leave."

Seeing her rise, Lü hastily gestured for her to wait. "One moment, Miss Yang. There's unfinished business."

"What now?" Yang Pei frowned.

Instead of answering, Lü scrutinized the IOU once more, sighing. "Such exquisite penmanship... A pity." He traced the characters wistfully. "I'd hoped to keep this as a memento, but to avoid misunderstandings..."

Before she could react, he ripped the paper into quarters. Grace stared, aghast. "Why tear it? What game are you playing?"

Crumpling the fragments into an ashtray, Lü met her eyes. "Did you forget? I cover all losses. My word is my bond."

Bewildered, she stammered, "But... you demanded repayment so fiercely moments ago!"

Gold-Tooth's laughter boomed. "Pure theater!" He slid a stack of chips toward her. "Here--your thousand dollars, returned in full."

With that, Lü Youtu pulled a thick wad of U. S. dollars from his shirt pocket and handed it to Yang Pei Grace. Flustered, she immediately pushed the money back toward him. "I couldn't possibly--this was my share to pay. I won't accept it."

But Gold-Tooth snatched up the cash and thrust it back into her hands. When she adamantly refused again, their polite tussle escalated into a miniature battle of wills--until Lü suddenly leaned close, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Miss Yang, you know Manila teems with streetwalkers, especially in casinos. If you keep refusing this money, onlookers might think we're haggling over... other arrangements."

Following his subtle nod, Grace noticed the prying eyes around them. Instantly, her cheeks flushed crimson. Abandoning all resistance, she hastily stuffed the bills into her clutch--though not without shooting him a glare that mixed exasperation with reluctant gratitude as she zipped the purse shut. "You impossible man... What am I to do with you!"

Watching the beauty fix him with that smoldering glare--equal parts reproach and allure--Lü Youtu felt the euphoric rush of hitting a jackpot. Chuckling, he slipped the business card bearing her home address into his wallet. "This souvenir, however, I'm keeping."

For reasons she couldn't articulate, a vague unease prickled Grace's spine as the card disappeared into the leather folds. Masking her disquiet with levity, she teased, "You won't show up at my doorstep demanding repayment once we're back in Taiwan, will you?"

Lü matched her tone with mock solemnity. "If I did... would you offer me coffee?"

Caught off guard, she paused before demurring with playful indignation: "Pfft! Who'd serve coffee to a double-dealer like you?"

Before Lü could respond, another voice cut in: "If not him, then perhaps me?"

Grace turned to find Lü's gaunt companion from the flight pulling up a chair between them. After ordering a mocha, the wiry middle-aged man asked her, "Would you cover this? I'm tapped out."

"Certainly," she agreed breezily. "It's your friend's treat anyway."

"Oh?" The man raised a puzzled brow. "How's that now?"

She gestured toward Lü with a knowing half-smile. "Mr. Lü's got a thousand dollars parked with me. Best you spend it fast--save us the tug-of-war."

At this point, the middle-aged man, Mr. Meng, suggested: "This gambling's gone stale--let's get some air!" To everyone's surprise, Grace bounced up instantly. "Yes! Let's go!" She looped her left arm through Meng's and her right through Lü's, pulling them toward the exit. This spontaneous, effervescent gesture sent both tycoons' hearts racing.

As Lü followed her lead, a smug thought glowed within him," A few small tricks, and the prize takes the bait."

Mr. Meng promptly sent a text message. As the trio reached the hotel entrance, a gleaming limousine stood waiting. Beside the vehicle stood their associate, Zhang, who opened the rear door with gentlemanly grace and ushered Gracefully inside with deferential courtesy.

Without hesitation, Grace beamed as she slid into the plush interior. Once Zhang and Meng settled into the limousine, the driver smoothly pulled onto the main road. From the passenger seat, Meng began babbling rapid instructions in Filipino dialect to the driver, punctuating his words with animated gestures.

The limousine glided along the curb as Grace marveled at the transformed cityscape outside--Manila's newfound prosperity far surpassing her memories from previous visits. "How seas become mulberry fields," she murmured, watching neon-lit towers blur past. "The world shifts before one's eyes."

Gold-Tooth, whose gaze had been anchored to the expanse of snowy thighs bared by her skirt hem, seized her words. "Precisely why we must seize joy where it blooms," he intoned, leaning closer. "Lest life's pages stay blank."

From the opposite seat, Zhang seized the moment to drape his right arm along the backrest behind her. "You strike me as a woman with an adventurous spirit," he ventured, leaning in conspiratorially. "Any wild plans to paint Manila red tonight?"

Grace flicked a glance his way. "Dancing crossed my mind," she admitted, "but missing my dance partner, so here I am."

Zhang closed the distance, his whisper brushing her ear: "Trade secret--I hold keys to Manila's most exclusive club. Premier sound system, velvet ropes..." A sly smile played on his lips. "And guest-free entry when escorted by a member."

"Is that so?" Grace arched an eyebrow, her smile laced with skepticism. "But I had my heart set on a discotheque. Places like that might be... past your prime?"

Unfazed, Zhang seized the opportunity to let his gaze linger on the barely concealed curves spilling from her neckline. His fingers brushed her shoulder as if by accident. "No trouble at all," he purred, leaning close enough for his breath to stir her hair. "Just blocks away--Manila's most electrifying disco awaits."

Zhang casually rested his hand possessively over Grace's. "Well? Stroll along the bay now, or chase the disco lights?"

Shifting her pinned form between the men, she crossed her sculpted legs and arched her neck against the headrest. "Hmm--" Her voice floated like sea mist. "Let the car trace the coastline awhile longer. I want the ocean's breath on my skin... then we dance."

"Anything you wish!" Gold-Tooth chimed instantly. "Take all the time you need."

At his nod, Meng signaled the driver. All four windows slid down. Salt-laced night air surged into the cabin, carrying the rhythmic murmur of waves. Grace's eyes drifted shut--for twenty full seconds, her face bathed in rapture--before she sighed into the darkness: "Perfection... This is the South Seas night I dreamed of."

The Mercedes swung sharply around the bend--whether from speed or the driver's intent, tires screeched as the sedan lurched violently. Grace tumbled sideways, her body collapsing into Zhang's lap. His right hand, hovering near her shoulder all this while, instantly snaked around her. As the cool silk of her skin registered against his palm, a primal urge coursed through him: rip that slender strap clean off.

Yet Lü's piercing glare across the cabin screamed a silent command:
Not Yet.

Though restraining himself from outright boldness, Zhang's right hand continued its trespass--caressing the alluring slope of Grace's shoulder with slow, deliberate strokes. His fingertips occasionally teased the slender strap of her dress, testing boundaries. She remained seemingly oblivious, wholly unaware of how perilously close his fingers drifted to slipping beneath her plunging neckline.

Leaning into Zhang, her crossed legs brushed against Gold-Tooth's knee. The scandalously short hem of her dress surrendered almost entirely to gravity, laying bare those legs of temptation incarnate. Gold-Tooth's gaze tunneled upward along her thighs, fixing hungrily on the shadowed apex where they met--a darkness now the undisputed focal point of his rapt attention.

Grace remained spellbound by Manila's nightscape unfurling beyond the window, while the three men drank in every detail: the curve of her legs, the swell of her breasts, the incandescent glow of her face. The limousine glided along Sunset Boulevard, looping once, then again. Salt-tinged breezes carried fragments of love ballads, while the lull of waves wove through the night--a rhythmic counterpoint to their coastal reverie.

Enraptured by this South Seas nocturne, even Grace's youthful ardor seemed subdued by its spell. And though the men, all past fifty, appeared equally lulled into contentment, their eyes held a veiled, smoldering hunger--carefully hidden from the young woman lost in paradise.

Meng's patience frayed first. Cutting through the moonlight-and-roses chatter, he signaled the driver to halt beside an open-air café. "Care for a stroll? Or perhaps a drink?"

Grace tapped a finger to her lips, feigning deep consideration. "Hmm... What I crave now is disco. Will you indulge me?"

The short ride ended swiftly. With her statuesque frame sheathed in crimson, Grace floated into the basement level of Club Shanglv, encircled by the three men like a celestial body in their planetary orbit. Yet upon descending the stairs, they confronted a disco bursting at the seams--a pulsating mass of bodies packed shoulder-to-shoulder.

The dance floor's suffocating density forced their retreat. Shielded by her trio of escorts, Grace navigated the human tide, emerging breathless from the thrumming chaos.

The group emerged onto the lobby level, Grace's summit-like peaks still heaving with exertion. "How could anyone dance in such chaos?" she lamented, bitter disappointment coloring her voice. "What madness drives this place to pack them in like sardines?"

Zhang produced the card with deliberate flair. "Care to sample my club instead? Guaranteed to make you feel royally welcomed--an experience to remember for life!"

Grace leveled a withering look at him, though her eyes narrowed playfully. "Remember for life? Such theatrics." She grabbed Gold-Tooth's wrist, peering at his Rolex. "Just past nine. As long as we're out by midnight, I'll humor your little adventure."

The limousine sliced through night streets, halting moments later before an exclusive venue. Flanked by two stone-faced doormen, Grace--her left hand clasped in Lü's--was ushered into the velvet-draped sanctuary named "Jazz Club."

No sooner had they settled into the VIP booth flanking the dance floor than two waiters materialized with a selection of drinks. Grace chose a mixed fruit juice, sipping it slowly as her eyes swept the shadowy expanse. In the intermittent sweep of laser beams, she noted the club was already seventy to eighty percent full at the tables--with dancers crowding the floor, occupancy likely neared ninety percent.

When the music swelled again, Gold-Tooth initiated the ritual: each man would dance with Grace in strict order of seniority. The driver, seated alone at the adjacent table, remained a silent sentinel--excluded from the revelry, steadfast in his bodyguard duties.

Grace and Lü made a grotesque mismatch on the floor--her statuesque frame towering over his stout form ill-suited for the close-hold waltz. As his thick arm encircled her waist, guiding her into the dance flow, her body stiffened with visceral discomfort. Yet within moments, her tension dissolved. The club's well-heeled patrons moved with studied decorum; not a single lingering stare or raised eyebrow acknowledged the jarring pair. Among this gilded indifference, her reservations evaporated. She eased into the rhythm, surrendering to the music's pull.

With her inhibitions shed, Gary unleashed her signature fiery dance style. Her arms draped loosely over Gold-Tooth's shoulders--a full head shorter--only embracing his neck during spins. She allowed him to pull her close, his thick-fingered hands inevitably sliding down to grope her hips with each dip and turn. Yet Grace remained unfazed; for a dance-floor veteran like her, such petty liberties were as routine as the beat itself.

But when Gold-Tooth's gaze drilled into her décolletage, his compliments took a jarring turn: "Such divine curves! Your fiancé is blessed beyond measure." His voice dropped to a husky murmur. "I'd die a happy man to touch such beauty just once."

Grace froze mid-step, caught between baffled amusement and indignation. With a scolding tone that couldn't quite mask her discomfort, she slapped his shoulder playfully. "Focus on dancing, not nonsense! And enough with 'die'--terrible juju!" Her fingers tightened on his, steering his wandering eyes back to hers.

Seeing Grace wasn't truly angered, Gold-Tooth doubled down: "For you, I'll live a hundred years! But mark my words--one night with a goddess like you?" His fingers dug into her waist. "Any price. Even my life."

Grace's eyes flashed. She halted abruptly, scolding through clenched teeth: "Tch! Must you spiral into vulgarity? There's a saying: Romance is allowed, but not lechery. We dance--" Her voice turned glacial. "--nothing more. That's nonnegotiable."

Gold-Tooth, a seasoned fox of the business world, recognized the playful negotiation beneath her stern words. Pulling her form flush against his, he tightened his grip and murmured against her crown: "This--holding you through eternity. Or at least until dawn breaks."

Her reply dissolved into breathless giggles first. Lü's stocky frame placed his head squarely eye-level with her barely concealed curves, and whether from their proximity or his deliberate provocation, his scorching breath and grazing lips had brushed against her exposed décolletage as he spoke. The ticklish heat sent shivers through her, body writhing briefly before she regained composure. "Pfft! Not a chance," she retorted, still catching her breath. "Midnight's the hard cutoff--who'd indulge you till dawn?"

Grace's soft laughter only emboldened him. "Then I'd best hustle you into bed before midnight strikes!" he declared with theatrical urgency.

Her cheeks burned. Glaring down at him, she muttered, "You're old enough to be my father--yet your mind's stuck in the gutter?" Her voice tightened. "How can I stay here? If... if all three of you turn into beasts..." A shudder passed through her. "Wouldn't I be devoured whole?"

Watching Grace's flushed face shift between embarrassment and indignation, Gold-Tooth felt utterly convinced--this goddess thrived on their charged banter. Tightening his vice-like grip, he pressed her body flush against his own and growled into her ear: "I am that wolf now. And I'll devour you whole--right here." His predatory grin widened as her eyes snapped open in alarm. She tried pulling back, but his hands locked like steel bands around her waist. "Let go!" she hissed, her voice trembling between fury and panic. "Someone call security--!"

With a sudden predatory lunge, he buried his face against her décolletage. Mistaking this for crude jest, Grace didn't recoil--until the scorching press of his lips against her exposed skin jolted her into action. As she raised her hands to shove him away, his tongue, hot and invasive, darted down her cleavage.

The swift, wet violation sent electric tremors through her. A choked gasp escaped her lips. Her poised fist--meant to strike.--faltered mid-air, then dropped limply to her side as his mouth migrated hungrily toward her other breast.

Every tremor that passed through Grace was absorbed by Gold-Tooth with predatory precision. Boldly, he nuzzled his face into the fragrant valley between her breasts, his hands boldly caressing the taut, rounded curves of her backside through the thin silk of her evening gown. Even the intricate lace pattern of her lingerie pressed against the fabric--its design nearly discernible beneath his tracing fingers--became part of his tactile map of conquest.

Grace's faint protest drowned in the music, her flushed cheeks obscured by the kaleidoscopic laser grid. Yet nothing escaped Gold-Tooth's notice--her hardened nipples pressing against silk, the erratic cadence of her breath. His right hand slid beneath her skirt hem, fingers poised to conquer uncharted territory.

Gold-Tooth's triumphant grin widened as he released her--save for her right hand, which remained firmly clasped in his. Grace made no genuine attempt to flee. To onlookers, the scene transformed: she appeared to be affectionately tugging him back toward their booth, their intertwined hands painting an illusion of mutual desire.

Just as the next melody surged, Zhang claimed Grace's hand. "Ignore him all you like," he declared, "but not our dance time. Come--blues awaits!"

Grace, light as a songbird, glided with him onto the floor. Watching their swaying figures, Gold-Tooth craned toward Meng and hissed: "What did you slip into her drink?"

Meng merely chuckled darkly, swirling his untouched whiskey. Meng leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial rasp: "You forbade the love potion, so I settled for Golden Fly." A low chuckle escaped him. "Poured the entire vial into her juice. Should keep her burning with... unbearable fire till dawn breaks." His eyes gleamed with predatory satisfaction.

Gold-Tooth's eyes remained locked on the swaying figures in the disco haze. "What's poured is poured," he muttered. "Just keep our hawk eyes on her--don't let the songbird escape its cage."

Meng consulted his wristwatch, a serpentine smile spreading. "Patience. Past ten o'clock..." His knuckles rapped the table. "... her wings will melt."

Truth be told, if one overlooked the age difference, Zhang and Grace cut a strikingly compatible figure on the distant dance floor--their tall frames weaving through the crowd in effortless synchrony, laughter trailing their movements.

Gold-Tooth watched the crimson sheath dress shift hues under the laser storm, its sequins fracturing light into prismatic shards. A single thought consumed him: Did that daring neckline mirror its wearer's spirit? How far would the exposed expanse of her back translate to openness elsewhere?

When the dance ended, Zhang guided Grace back with his hand resting possessively on her waist. Her radiant smile and sparkling eyes--lips curved in delight, teeth gleaming like pearls--betrayed no trace of their earlier unfamiliarity. Instead, an electric intimacy now pulsed between them, forged not through empty pleasantries but genuine connection during those fleeting minutes on the floor. Gold-Tooth noted the transformation: barriers dissolved, replaced by giddy rapport.

The moment Grace sipped her drink and let Meng lead her back to the dance floor, Lü leaned close to Zhang. "What spell did you cast? She's floating on air."

Zhang thumped his thigh, grinning conspiratorially. "Big Brother, you'll never guess! I told her the real heat ignites after ten--sizzling warm-up acts first, then a two-hour special show." His eyebrows danced. "Want to know her reaction?"

Zhang paused dramatically, while Gold-Tooth fixed him with an intense stare: "Did you mention the striptease later?"

"Ha! Not only that--" Zhang boisterously clapped Gold-Tooth's shoulder. "--I warned her: No leaving once the special show starts." Adopting a conspiratorial whisper, he added, "Guess her response?" A sly chuckle escaped him. "She asked point-blank if the dancers go completely nude! Even inquired whether the 'special show' was adult-themed." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "I told her she'd have to see for herself. And you know what? She confessed she's longed to see such adult entertainment for ages."

Gold-Tooth's eyes tracked the undulating crimson figure swallowed by the dance floor throng. "Think she's wild enough to ride?" he rasped to Zhang. "Or just playing hard to get?"

Zhang grinned, nodding fervently. "Spot on, boss. No chemical persuasion needed--she practically invited herself. Hell, her boldness knocked my socks off!" A predatory gleam lit his eyes. "Tonight's midnight feast's looking sweet."

Lü's gold-capped teeth flashed in a slow smile. "Correction: the feast we're serving her will be unforgettable."

Before the final notes faded, Meng--appearing nearly eye-level with Grace in her heels--had masterfully steered her toward the edge of the dance floor nearest their booth. As the music ceased, he guided her back with a brisk stride, his hand resting possessively at the small of her back. To every observer, her face now glowed with a radiance that spoke of giddy euphoria.

This was the alchemy of the dancefloor. After rotating through each man's embrace, Grace found the distance between them dissolved--those invisible barriers melting away, precisely the perilous shift that lures women toward the precipice. Gold-Tooth and his seasoned wolves knew too well: the intimacy of swaying bodies was the surest path to unravel a woman's defenses, to let her sink unwittingly into desire's quagmire. In their hunting chronicles, women who loved to dance were always the easiest prey.

Yet even in their most fevered dreams, they'd never imagined a prize like Grace --this peerless siren--now trembling on their sacrificial altar. The thought ignited Gold-Tooth. Leaning toward his sworn brothers, he murmured: "Tonight, we feast. Spare no luxury to see her thoroughly... satisfied. Anything less would disgrace this temple of indulgence."

Meng seized the cue immediately. "Naturally," he affirmed, patting Grace's hand with counterfeit warmth. "And Pei-Pei here has agreed--no more 'Miss Yang' or 'Mister Lü.'" He beamed, his eyes glinting with calculation. "From now on, we're Big Brother, Second Brother, Third Brother to her, and she's our dear Pei-Pei. All this formality..." He waved dismissively. "... only breeds awkward distance."