I handed Naveen the joint. “The Darvaza is a massive crater in Turkmenistan full of smoke and liquid fire. Many call it the Door to Hell.”
Grimacing, Naveen took the joint from me. “Completely unnecessary, Misha.”
Laughing loudly, Maxwell clapped. “Valentina’s pussy being the door to hell is funny though.”Chapter 25
Misha
La Chatte strip club provided an enchanting ambiance for gentlemen with packed bank accounts. It was one of the finest places in Paris. Here, if a man paid according to what he desired, plush entertainment and royal treatment were guaranteed. He received every lusty delight he craved and all the female attention that money could buy.
The club’s name referred to a female cat. However, the French also used the word with a sexual meaning—similar to the English’s pussy.
In La Chatte, a song blasted from the club’s speakers. French lyrics rode the booming rhythm. Strobe lights hung high on the ceiling and spun rainbows along the massive space.
The clientele represented powerful and affluent men who would rather not be noticed. Therefore, the club didn’t have a huge mainstage for everyone’s viewing. Instead, there were small sections of private stages with poles and surrounding dividers for that section’s privacy. Each personal stage cost 2,000 euros, just to sit down. After that, one still had to pay for the women, cigars, food, and drinks. They had a coat check by the door, a cigar room off to the side, a sweet bar downstairs full of French candies, and a full-service restaurant at the top.
VIP was located on the third level, consisting of thirty private rooms. Most of the rooms cost another 2,000 euros. Once the stripper agreed to go up with the man, further payment was discussed.
Currently, Maxwell held a stack of euros in both hands in front of our private stage. Four topless dancers twisted and spun in front of him. I sat in the back of our section. Naveen was on my right. Anatoly lounged next to him with his hand in a cast. My doctor took care of it on the plane. Dima and other guards were on my left.
Wearing a gold leather bikini and glass high heels, the waitress brought over our drinks. When she placed everything on the table, she leaned down to me. “Sir, are you sure you don’t want anything besides water?”
I waved her away. “I’m sure.”
“Yes!” Maxwell wiggled his hips to the music and glanced over his shoulder. “Yo, how do I tell them yes again?”
Grinning, I yelled at him. “Oui.”
“That’s right.” Maxwell tossed euros at the dancers. “Oui. Oui. Shake that ass. I’ve got bands for everyone. Bands for you. Bands for you.”
“You speak American lingo.” I looked at Naveen. “What are bands?”
Naveen drooled over the half-naked women on the stage. “Bands are slang for stacks of money.”
“How?”
“It refers to rubber bands wrapped around large stacks of money.”
“And how do you know this?”
Naveen smirked at me. “I may have spent a large amount of time in American strip clubs.”
“And there you go. And some for you.” Maxwell slung tons of euros at the women. An inch of money covered the stage that they danced on.
Sighing, I checked my watch and turned to Naveen. “Where is the Devil?”
“He said he was on his way.”
“That was hours ago. We’ve been here all night. Well. . .now morning.”
“What? No.” Worry covered Naveen’s face. He checked his watch. “You’re right.”
“Of course. I’m the only one not drinking and ready to get out of this place.”
Naveen sighed. “I told you coming to the strip club was a bad idea.”
“Maxwell needed a break. I’ve been dragging him through death and blood this whole time. Never once has he complained. I figured this would be a reward.”
“Meanwhile, strip clubs are my weakness. I’m never on my game when naked women are around.” Naveen pulled out his phone and rose. “I’ll call the Devil and find out where he is.”
“Do that.” I returned my view to Maxwell slinging euros at the stage. One of the women gestured for me to come to her. I shook my head. Although they were all good-looking women, none could stand next to Ava. My gorgeous ballerina not only exuded elegant beauty she was smart, talented, and independent. With Ava’s high quality, it would be impossible for another woman to capture my attention.
Maxwell paused from the women, dug his hand into his pockets, and pulled out his phone. When he checked the screen, he looked over his shoulder. “Eh, Misha. I’ll be right back. This must be Em calling me.”
“Early in the morning?” I raised my eyebrows and rose from my seat. “Are you sure it’s her?”
“You and she are the only people who have this number.”
I walked over to him. “But then why would she be calling so early?”
“One never knows with Em, man.” Maxwell shrugged.
Do the Lion and Mouse know about the nukes?