THE SHOW GIRL +18 (Secret Mission!)

First Contact!;

Chapter 1. “Lilya’s Night, Alara’s Shadow”

As the silence of midnight settled over the city, there was a place where the crowd’s pulse quickened, where the rhythm reached into the veins of the night. Beneath dim street lamps, its lights sparkled like sparks, turning the city’s darkness into an enchanting spectacle.

“Lilya, two minutes to stage!”

“Understood, I’m coming.”

Lilya…

With her long legs, slim waist, curvy lines, and shapely, full breasts, she was breathtaking. Over her black transparent lingerie, she slipped into the lace and feather-detailed black stage costume hanging from the rack. As the fabric clung to her skin, it trembled like an echo of dark allure.

She clipped the garter to the lace stockings pulled high on her legs. Her wavy hair cascaded elegantly over her shoulders. Sitting before the makeup mirror, she gave her reflection a short but confident smile. Then she placed the satin and feather-detailed black mask over her face.

Now she was ready.

The stage was hers, the night was hers, the game would be played by her rules.

Just then, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen it was the intelligence unit calling.

“Hurry, I’m about to go on stage,” she said with slight impatience.

“Yes, Prosecutor, I know. I just wanted to give you a quick reminder.”

“I’m listening.”

“Emir Kara… took the bait, Prosecutor. He just entered the venue.”

A deep, devilish smile spread across Lilya’s face.

“Good… Then let the show begin.”

Lilya walked onto the stage with slow, deliberate steps. Each click of her heels echoed in the heart of the club. Her body, wrapped in black lace, stood like a sin in the open; her slim waist, perfectly rounded hips, and long legs gleamed with every step. Her breasts swayed with threatening magnificence inside the stage outfit, while her skin shone like the chill of a misty night.

Emir sat in the dim seat at the front row. His jacket unbuttoned, his muscular chest strained against his shirt. His body was built like a warrior: broad shoulders, thick biceps, a sharp jawline, and eyes that glowed in the dark.

Eyes that locked onto Lilya’s every move with poisonous lust. The slight curl at the corner of his lips carried the patience of a predator savoring its prey before devouring it.

When the music started, Lilya moved her hips with the confidence of a goddess.

She clung to the pole, circled her hips as she squatted, then rose again, rubbing her legs together. She thrust her chest forward, tossed her head back, and whipped her hair. Her hands wandered over her neck, fingertips sliding down from her stomach to her hips. Then, boldly parting her legs, she ran her fingers across her groin. Emir’s eyes burned as if they longed to be in place of those fingers.

Her hip movements grew sharper, her body commanding the rhythm, her muscles rippling like waves with each turn. When she fixed her masked eyes on him, it was as if she whispered, “Watch me, burn.”

Her n*****s were faintly visible beneath the sheer fabric, sending out a provocative tremor with every step. The delicate lace encased the walls of her womanhood, offering a searing invitation.

Emir’s fingers dug into the edge of the seat. His breath heavy, his gaze powerful. Lilya reached the edge of the stage and bent forward; even the shadows falling into her cleavage carried a seductive invitation.

Her body was the weapon of this dance, Emir a willing prisoner.

Their eyes met. In the middle of the night, two flames touched each other.

And Lilya’s lips curled in a whispered murmur: “At last, you’ve fallen into my trap, Emir Kara!”

The first rays of morning filtered through the curtain, dancing on my walls. The sun slipped inside like a shy guest, as the shrill alarm broke the silence. I reached out to turn it off; silence reclaimed its reign. My feet carried me to the kitchen. In the cezve, coffee bubbled slowly an unchanging ritual of my mornings. As I inhaled its scent, my eyes wandered over my new home.

Small but warm… My own, a quiet refuge that spoke only of me. After a childhood in orphanage rooms where dreams had no walls, this place was my heaven. No marks of others on the walls. Everything here belongs to me my mistakes, my victories, my story.

With my coffee in hand, I went into the living room. I sat before the giant window overlooking the Bosphorus. The view was dazzling, but my thoughts were inward. I took the first sip. And, as every morning, I began to lay out my day in my mind.

But before that… Let’s get acquainted, dear reader.

I am Alara Demir. A prosecutor. At a young age, I clawed my way up in a system deeply marked by male dominance. I believe in justice. But not empty justice justice that stands with the powerless, the helpless. Each case makes me sharper, more resilient.

But there’s a side of me you don’t know. At night, I don’t seek justice, but passion.

Two nights a week, I perform on stage at Sapphire’s, the city’s most dazzling nightclub, as Lilya. Yes, I am a showgirl.

Now you may ask, “Why would a prosecutor live such a life?” You’re right. But my answer is clear: because it is the voice of my existence. In this vast world, it is the life of a woman left without anyone…

Dance and stage: my first source of income after the orphanage, the means to finish school, but most importantly, the stage where I unleashed my hidden desires.

Lilya is the scream of the silenced woman inside me. On stage, I am not putting on a costume rather, I am stripping bare my true self. In those moments, I have no profession, no name. Only me.

And yes… The power I feel on stage bewilders me. To see the desire in men’s eyes, to feel that control belongs to me… Ah, that is my point of ecstasy.

Obedience being watched, provocation being directed, pulling the strings of desire. In this age where s*x is lived only for men’s pleasure, Lilya delivers justice—her own way.

Today, I’ll tell you about two men. One under Prosecutor Alara’s watch, the mafia heir I can’t catch and deliver to justice: Emir Kara, the Shadow’s Heir.

The other, the man who can’t take his eyes off Lilya on stage. And strangely enough, they are the same person.

Emir Kara!

The heir to the city’s dark empire. The first time he came to my stage, even his presence changed the air of the club. Tall, hard features, dark eyes… But what impressed me most was his resistance. This man before whom every woman bent her knees, watched my game. He was affected, yes, but he didn’t surrender. And that… drove me insane.

His attention was on Lilya. But I am not just her. I am also Alara. And I will bring him to justice. Not just at night I watch him by day as well. I tracked him for months. Finally, I had a lead. One of the city’s biggest casinos was under his control. Tonight, I would go there. Before stepping on stage, I would chase the truth. To strip off his mask would be both Lilya’s victory and Alara’s vengeance.

My coffee was finished. A sly smile played on my lips. Today, fate’s scales were in my hands.

Let’s go back two months…

It all began that night.

Emir Kara’s fondness for women was no rumor, but an urban legend. The most beautiful women, diplomats’ daughters, wealthy heiresses… all on his radar. He entertained them in his plaza, his club, his nights always ending with a “happy ending.” His libido was legendary, his body rivaling the sexiest male models. But no one had ever formed a true bond with him. Perhaps he had no soul at all.

I only knew him through intelligence reports. Files, spies, documents… We had never met face-to-face. Until that night.

The venue where I performed had changed hands. I was so popular no one interfered with me, no one knew my name. And I never cared to know them. I didn’t care who the new owner was. Little did I know, the gates of the dark kingdom were about to close on me. The new owner had opened a few casinos to challenge Emir’s market.

That day, when Emir walked in with his burning darkness, charisma, and imposing presence it was as if even the lights of the hall bowed to him. I was on stage. But all eyes turned to him. For a moment, I faltered. I knew him as Prosecutor Alara and had chased him for years. But to Lilya, he was just a stranger, and on Lilya’s stage, there is never hesitation. I turned my eyes away and continued my show.

He took a corner seat. Whispered to the waiter. The club owner rushed to him. Sat beside Emir, but those eyes… Emir, smiling, tapped the man’s cheek twice. Playful, yet dripping with threat. The man’s face froze. He bowed, nodding to every word.

It was clear he had realized who he was dealing with.

Then his eyes slid to me. But they did not just pass over. They fixed on me. I… was dancing. Wearing white angel wings, a sheer costume that left me almost naked, lace stockings. Leaning against the pole. My body swaying to the rhythm of the music.

He was watching me. Simply watching. As if peering beneath my skin. That gaze… set me on fire.

I am a woman who loves to watch. The swelling chests of men, trembling lips, the growl in their breaths… But Emir… Emir was something else. For the first time, I was the one burning.

God, this was only the beginning.

That night, he didn’t follow me.

No message, no trace.

I thought I had lost the only chance to approach him. That invitation I wrote with my body under the stage lights had gone unanswered.

Days later, a report from my intelligence team arrived.

Turns out, right after watching me, he left the country for a weapons shipment he smuggled to the Middle East.

And as of yesterday, he was back.

Now I had two possibilities:

Had Lilya truly captivated him?

Had he found me worth pursuing?

Or was I just another one of those passing women in his life? One night, a single glance, and then eternal oblivion…

But the expected happened.

I cast the bait, waited silently.

And he came.

Emir Kara returned to the game.

When I went on stage, the first thing I saw was his show of dominance at the center table.

Legs spread wide, leaning back in his chair.

The veined line stretching from his chest to his neck…

His gaze seemed to say, “You’re my prey.”

A tempting challenge.

I smiled with delight,

But hid it, turning my eyes away.

Because I was the one hunting him.

Days earlier, we had held a meeting with the intelligence team.

The IT stepped forward.

(IT—the specialist in information technology and digital security systems).

Expert in hacking, digital tracking, password cracking, he was also responsible for collecting electronic evidence.

“Prosecutor,” he said firmly,

“The only reason we haven’t been able to bring Emir Kara down so far is that he’s too careful. He moves like a spy. He knows the loopholes of the law by heart. And he never touches dirty work himself.”

“There’s a major weapons trade continuing in the Middle East. And in Istanbul, countless casinos, clubs, and front companies… If we can identify the team or leader he uses for these dirty jobs, we can also pull Emir’s rope. From my experience, he either works with a special operations team or an intelligence cell.”

Prosecutor Alara leaned over the documents on the table.

Resting her arms on the desk, she lifted her head.

“So… whoever the ones in the shadows are, I have to find them first,” she said.

“And for that… I must enter Emir Kara’s domain.”