All for the mission, all for the mission. The mantra echoed in your mind as you slid along the pole. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine yourself in such a position—entertaining men and women alike while dressed in a bunny costume. The fact that you had to master this skill over the past month or two for the sake of the mission was both wild and impressive, though entirely expected given your reputation as a quick learner.

The mantra had carried you through the first hour, and as you walked off the stage to the sound of applause and whistles, you kept repeating it. You handed off the money stuffed into every part of your costume to another person, who whispered in your ear that your target had arrived. At least it wasn't all for nothing, you thought.

After receiving intel on his location, you made your way to the VIP section along with the other dancers. You spotted him—seated with his posse, guards alert. All I have to do is distract him, you reminded yourself as you began serving drinks, your approach subtle and calculated.

"You," a deep voice called out. All heads turned in his direction, yours included. Your eyes met his.

"Come over here," he commanded, without needing to gesture. It was clear he was speaking to you. Swallowing your initial surprise, you strutted over with the tray of drinks in hand. You set a bottle on the table beside him, but before you could pull away, his large arm snaked around your waist, pulling you into his lap. The suddenness of it almost made you drop the tray, which one of his men swiftly removed from your grasp.

Kento Nanami—a notorious dealer—had you straddling his lap. Little did you know, he had spotted you long before you were aware of his presence. His fingers pressed into the latex fabric at your hip, his dark eyes boring into yours.