INFERNO 18+

CHAPTER 2

IVY

I’m in New York once again, b*tch, and this is going to be fun.

At least, that’s what Lila screeched the moment we stepped out of the airport.

“Damn, you’re really gonna burst my eardrums someday,” I muttered, staring at my best friend — the same best friend I’d had since high school, the same girl with the shiniest black hair I’ve ever seen, and the same menace who always dragged me into chaos.

I still couldn’t believe our dads finally allowed us to take this solo trip.

“Well, technically, your dad will be joining us in three days,” Lila said, flipping her hair dramatically. “So we should grab all the freedom we can.”

I glanced at the army of SUVs waiting for us outside. That was the thing with having overprotective fathers — even a vacation came with a security team strong enough to start a minor war.

We arrived at my dad’s New York apartment, and I sank into the couch.

“I’ll order something. What do you want?” she asked.

“I’ll have Indian biryani,” I said without looking up.

“Okay,” she chirped before disappearing.

I headed for the shower, letting the hot water soothe the travel tension. Afterward, I styled my braids just the way I liked them. We already had plans to visit Obsidian, which was basically New York’s hottest club at the moment — the kind of place our fathers would never willingly let us step foot in.

When I finally joined Lila at the dining table, I sat across from her.

“Hey,” I murmured. Dinner was quiet… too quiet.

Which meant the perfect moment to pull off our plan.

“Lila, please, I need help fixing my tampon!” I suddenly blurted out — loud enough for the six bodyguards in the lounge area to hear. They shifted uncomfortably.

Lila blinked, then caught on immediately. “Come on,” she said, dragging me toward the bathroom.

Once the door shut, I whispered the real plan.

She nodded and told one of her bodyguards to go buy me a tampon.

While he was gone, I made a dramatic mess in the living area — enough to justify calling in a cleaner with a large cart.

We had already booked four separate cabs.

“I have my card with me,” Lila said, pulling out her wallet.

That was our signal.

We took our backup clothes, slipped out behind the cleaner’s rolling cart, and hurried out. The moment we jumped into one of the three cabs, we burst into giggles.

“This is the simplest and easiest sh*t we’ve pulled so far,” I whispered between laughs.

The three other cabs sped off in different directions, and — predictably — our bodyguards picked the wrong ones to follow.

Once we reached the alley behind the club, we changed into our clothes for the night. A little makeup, some lip gloss, a switch of outfits, and we were ready.

We had always wanted to see Obsidian’s VIP section, and tonight we finally could — without guards breathing down our necks.

“Tried vodka without lime. Wouldn’t recommend,” Lila said with a grimace.

I burst out laughing. “You always give in to your intrusive thoughts.”

“Speaking of intrusive thoughts… I heard we could strip here like regular dancers if we want to,” she said.

“Really?”

She nodded, grinning. “Then why not?”

Somehow, after five minutes of pleading and negotiating with the manager, we found ourselves on stage.

I wore a green lingerie two-piece and restyled my braids into a long, sleek cascade. I paired it with gold-and-green cowgirl knee-length boots and put on a mask for the drama — because why not?

Lila chose a baby-pink-and-gold set with black boots.

And then the music started — the vibrant, familiar beat of “Streets.”

Our adrenaline spiked instantly.

I grabbed the pole, swung, and spun, letting my body move like it had a mind of its own. When I landed in a split, my back facing the audience, the crowd roared.

Lila was on the floor beside me, posed in a perfect P-shape with her legs. When she rose and walked over to me, she ran her hands along my curves just like we had practiced a million times.

Then she stepped back, giving me that subtle nod — the one that meant go crazy.

I dropped both hands onto the stage floor, leaned my back against the pole, and let the move flip me upside down. My braids spilled over the stage like a waterfall.

I split again, hearing whistles and applause echo through the room.

And then Lila stole the spotlight — her legs wrapped around the pole, her whole body suspended by one strong arm. She threw her head back, and the sight was so erotic the audience lost their minds.

We climbed down together, shared a look, and made our graceful exit into the darkness backstage.

And God… it was the most alive I’d felt in ages.