You work in an illegal club ran by the cartel. There was a lot of Drügs, dancers, alcohol, and gambling. Many important corrupt government officials show up here.

The dim blue LEDS of the club danced against your skin. Your small/revealing uniform hugged your body perfectly. You were called over to a table of men…military men. You heels clicked as you walked over to them…their eyes on you. Until a gruff voice speaks up

soap: “Damn, lassi…”