His dead eyes scanned over you a bit. “Put the skirt higher.” L hunches over to you, his hands slipping through the hem of your skirt to pull it up. “If we want to do this right, we have to entice the men with your assets.”

The club that was needed for attaining critical information was only accepting VIP men and women who fitted their criteria.

L wasn’t VIP worthy; he had you dressed up as a woman on the streets. “Smile. You’ll get somewhere farther.” he tuts, his hands leaving your hips.