Divorcing Her Mafia Family
Chapter 19

The girls were standing in line outside Miklos’ club at ten o’clock and were giggling like fools. They’d been drinking prosecco and were dressed provocatively in their disguises. The bouncers had been watching them for several minutes and Dimi knew they were dressed exactly the way the club manager liked the patrons to dress. Scantily with plenty of flesh on display, was typically how Miklos’ clubs liked the girls to be seen. It brought in more guys who bought more alcohol for the half-dressed women. Magda had already slipped the bouncer a wad of cash to get into the club. He had promised to see what he could do, and they were biding their time, acting flirty with the guys in the line and laughing loudly.

Dimi knew what the bouncer was seeing. They were exactly the type of women this club catered to, and the bouncers were trained to recognize the rich and fabulous. Darya’s makeup artist and her friend who was a hair stylist had made miracles. They were dressed in designer clothes and shoes which spoke to wealth more than most of the people in this line had ever seen. Dimi had laughed and said they were billionaires after all.

Darya’s typically blonde hair was pinned high up in a ponytail Ariana Grande would envy for its height. She was wearing four-inch shoes with a red heel making her appear taller and even leaner than normal. She had in colored contacts which changed her blue eye color to brown and she had thick rimmed glasses. Her make-up was done with finesse with enough contouring and highlighting even her cheekbones had cheekbones. Her dress was skin-tight and barely covered her a*s and was zipped so close to her chest no bra was possible. It was black and silver and it shimmered and shone with every toss of her ponytail. She looked nothing like her usual nerdy self. More than once she’d tugged on her dress to pull it down and the girls had slapped at her hands.

Magda, in Dimi’s opinion, looked the most changed of them. She was normally a beach bum. Shorts, t-shirts, or surf wear. Even when they’d been living in Boston, she was always casually dressed with her hair in a messy up-do or in beachy waves in a loose pony. She never wore make up unless forced, for example for the dinner with Ares. It was probably why he’d insisted on formal attire. Even then she’d tied her hair up in messy bun on the top of her head saying she couldn’t be arsed to screw with it. Tonight, her hair was sleek cinnamon silk cascading over her shoulders in pin straight glory to the middle of her back. She wore a black leather mini skirt so short the girls had been teasing her a*s cheeks would be on full display with the slightest breeze. It was paired with a black lace bustier and thick silver chains. Whatever lipstick Darya’s makeup specialist friend had in her possession had plumped Magda’s lips and the paint job she’d gotten on them made her mouth her star feature which, in consideration of her stunning cat-like green eyes was a huge accomplishment. She could have been any Hollywood starlet the way she was put together. She was oozing confidence and sexuality causing, in the few minutes they’d been in line, multiple men to approach.

Dimi, even with the red hair pieces the girl had outfitted her in felt second class next to Mags and she was happy with it. She hadn’t wanted to draw too much attention. However, as the makeup artist had said, ugly people didn’t get into Miklos’ club, and she had to look the part. The girl had woven b***d red hair throughout her dark hair and had curled her normally straight hair into exquisite curls of red and chestnut spirals over her shoulders. They’d given her false lashes which framed her eyes which now spotted blue contacts, turning her eyes from their deep brown to a pretty hazel. The artist had done something to her cheekbones to make them big and round, almost changing the shape of her face. She had stared for a long time in the mirror and admitted she barely recognized herself. If her face hadn’t been so outlandishly different than how she normally looked, she knew her body was definitely looking far more on display than she was used to.

Dimi knew she was not as thin as her friends. Her h**s were curvy and her chest busty, but the girls had insisted she amplify her body. She sported a skater type dress in a b***d red colour almost matching her hair. It was haltered around her neck and the deep v of the cleavage made her breasts look massive. The stylist had secured her with fashion tape which she guaranteed wasn’t coming off unless she used a ton of the special remover, she had sent her packing with. Not even getting sweaty in a dance club was going to make the tape come off and Dimi had even done a cartwheel and proved the woman right.

“Ladies,” the bouncer spoke, “you three.”

Magda giggled as she patted the bouncer’s chest when he said the cover charge was waved by the bar manager. They were escorted to a private lounge area away from the main entrance and the bouncer told them to wait for the manager so he could set up their private booth and bottle service.

“So long as it’s a manager and not Miklos,” Dimi whispered to the girls. “I’d hate for him to see through my costume this fast. It took hours for me to look like this.”

“Ladies,” a handsome suave man dressed impeccably in a suit with the collar opened almost to his sternum with gold chains on display greeted them. “I have not seen you in my club before! Welcome!”

Magda completely playing her role to the limit reached out her hand and let him k**s her knuckles, “my name is Maggie! These are my friends Ya-ya and Mimi. It’s my birthday and my daddy told me to go do something stupid for my twenty-sixth. We are going to need bottle service and room to dance.”

“Bottle service can be pricey,” he started to speak, and Magda cut him off with a flick of her wrist, as if already bored with his insult.

“Let’s go girls, I told you we would have had more fun at Lorenzo’s place. Nobody insults me there or questions by bank balance,” Magda purposely mentioned the club owned by Miklos’ rival. Dimi had made sure to tell the girls how much the men hated each other. “They never argue my requests.” She pointed at Darya, “I thought you said your friend recommended this place since Lorenzo changed his stupid DJ.”

Darya flung her ponytail with a glare at the man, “so I was wrong. Let’s go. The service at his place is better. We can dance to anything.”

Dimi caught sight of Miklos at the far end of the club talking to another man and not looking on their direction. Evidently, he’d gone straight to the club from his offices but along the way he had changed from the clothing she’d seen him in on the cameras she’d hacked of his office. He was lounging with a drink in one hand and was eyeing the crowd in a deep green dress shirt opened at the collar and perfectly tailored trousers that hugged his long lean legs. He appeared casual and relaxed, but she knew he was a far cry. He missed nothing.

The man held up his hands, “credit card to secure your night?”

“Do we want to stay?” Magda asked her friends, ignoring him.

Dimi spoke up, “I really don’t want to call my driver back to take us up the block and my security guard will be pissed if we walk. Let’s just make do for tonight.”

Magda held the card out with a smirk ignoring the furrowed brows of the man they were insulting. It was a card they had used in the past when traveling and not wanting their families to trace them. Today, Dimi had hacked the card company before coming out and had upped the credit limit to fifty grand. She had also tied it to the card Miklos had given her. Whatever they charged to Magda’s card would automatically reroute and get paid off by Miklos. Her knowledge of banking systems was coming in handy.

The man eyeballed Magda and then walked to the bar and ran the card. They watched with smirks as Miklos leaned over his shoulder and asked a question of his manager and the man shook his head and laughed. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the three women and Miklos smiled broadly and looked on their direction, but his gaze didn’t linger, and Dimi found herself grateful. She looked around the already crowded place. The music was pumping, and the crowd was lively. He was distracted by the group.

The manager clapped Miklos on the shoulder and whatever he uttered was enough to make Miklos throw his head back and laugh loudly and Dimi shivered.

“He’s a bloody Greek God,” Magda complained. “Nobody should look like him. No wonder you let him pop your cherry. It isn’t natural to look like him.”

Dimi gave her a shove but didn’t argue her friend’s words. Again, his eyes travelled in the direction of the trio and this time his gaze narrowed but she turned her back as if not bothered by his glances, pulling a piece of her red hair over her face playfully in an attempt to hide her face.

“Maggie, you’re all set for the evening! I can escort you to the private booth and your server’s name is Kimmie. She will be right with you.”

Maggie grinned at him and plucked her card from his fingertips, “thanks! I don’t think I caught your name.”

Dimi knew it was an insult to the man and she kept her head down to not laugh in his face. The managers of the Laskaris clubs were notorious and well-known in the club world. Publicity was everything and Helios was no exception. Magda knew the slight she’d just given him and was reveling in the look the man had on his face.

“I apologize Maggie Smith,” he used her name from the credit card, “I should have introduced myself formally. Helios Ioannidis, at your service.”

“Thanks Helios. We won’t need your service though. Just Kimmie. Boys aren’t our thing.” Magda watched his eyes widen before quickly recuperating.

“Of course, of course, ladies follow me.”

They followed the manager through the club dancing to the music as they cut through to the private booth. Dimi felt the thumping of the music pulsating through her body as they neared the dance floor and she twisted in excitement to Darya and draped an arm around her waist as if dancing with her but really, she was avoiding the gaze of the man seated not ten feet from where they crossed. She knew her thick false lashes and the way her make-up was done, combined with her clothes was a decent distraction.

At the booth they threw their bags on the bench surrounding the little table and Helios walked away. The music was loud surrounding them with speakers just over their head and Dimi shrieked, “I love this song!” The Prosecco they’d been drinking earlier was long gone from the system, but excitement was making the three of them want to party.

“I can’t believe we are here!” Magda exhaled lowly turning her back to the crowd and making eyes at her friends. “Holy s**t. This place is massive and sexy as f**k!”

“Happy birthday Maggie!” Darya screamed loud enough for any onlookers to hear, and they cheered with excitement.

Kimmie approached, a cute little blonde wearing bike shorts and a crop top. “Ladies, what can I get you?”

Dimi reached into her bag and pulled the girl closer. She pushed a handful of bills in her hands. “Keep the boys away and the drinks coming and there is more where this came from.”

Kimmie looked down in her hand where easily two thousand dollars in crisp hundreds were clutched. Her smile widened across her face as she tucked the bills into her bra and nodded, “your wish is my command. What are you drinking?”

Dimi ordered a high-end bottle of vodka and shot glasses and both Darya and Magda ordered more Prosecco.

The girls were dancing, having a great time and Kimmie managed to keep them relatively isolated as they drank. Dimi could feel Miklos gaze on them and every time she looked in his direction, he was looking in hers with a curious expression. The more she drank the braver she got and eventually the trio were dancing on the banquette, drinks in hand and singing loudly to the music.

More than once men had sent drinks their way and the girls had sent them back, making Kimmie chortle with glee as she kept bringing the drinks back the donors. Dimi had to admit she was having fun, regardless of the fact they were there to spy on Miklos and his operation, most specifically prove his insistence he was going to make their marriage real, was a lie. She knew it was only a matter of time before he was draped with beautiful women, grinding on the dance floor, or taking one of them up to his office overlooking the club.

By midnight they were hot, sweaty, and wasted, laughing and dancing loudly. Miklos had disappeared up his offices and more than once she had looked up to see him looking down through the glass windows, his gaze drawn in her direction yet not once had she caught him dancing with a girl and no woman had made her way up the stairs to his offices. As she searched for him again, Dimi noted he had another man with him. She squinted in her drunkenness and then recognized the man.

“Holy s**t, Darya,” she grunted as she turned her back to the men and swayed her h**s in tempo to the music. “Kostas is with Miklos upstairs.”

Darya missed a step in her dance, and they had to reach out and grab her. They laughed it off loudly, as they tried to maintain their cover, but Darya’s face had paled with the words. The man who had precipitated the biggest changes in her entire life was in the same building as she was.

Dimi wrapped her arms around her neck and kept dancing knowing the two men had been looking in their direction. Magda went behind Darya and clutched her waist, creating a Darya sandwich.

“We should leave,” Dimi said as she kept her back to the offices high above them. “We didn’t prepare for this. If he recognizes you,” Dimi touched Darya’s ear.

“The last time he saw me, I was wearing thick black glasses and clothing my mother considered appropriate, which means it was meant for church.” Darya shook her head. “There’s no way he recognizes me. I haven’t seen him in years. We stick with the plan. We need the proof Miklos is just like your father. We need to catch him with a girl. More ammunition for your divorce request. Let’s wait it out and see if he makes a play for any of the girls who have been trying to catch his eye.”

“Is it weird he keeps staring down here,” Magda asked curiously as she danced behind Darya. “Do you think he suspects it’s you?”

“No,” she shook her head, “because if he knew I was here, he would be here yelling at me to go home.” Dimi said confidently. “I know him. He would s**t bricks if he thought I was dressed like this in his club.”

“You do look incredible.”

“Good enough they are looking in this direction again,” Darya said with a smirk as she threw her hands in the air between her friends and let her head fall back to Magda’s shoulder.

Their dance was erotic and sexy, and Dimi knew not only were the two men overhead watching them, many of the men in the club were ogling them overtly. For a Tuesday night, the place was hopping, and the music was loud. It was easy to lose themselves in the beat of the music and the hum of the exuberant crowd. The DJ was good at what he did, and the music was made for grinding and twisting.

Kimmie entered their space again to check on them and Magda pulled her into their dance.

“Kimmie, we like you!” Magda shouted at her over the thumping of the music.

Kimmie giggled. “I like you girls too!”

“Who are those two guys who keep looking down at us?” Darya played dumb. “Do they have God complexes looking down on their people?”

“You don’t know who they are?” Kimmie was wide-eyed, “the guy with the navy shirt is Miklos Laskaris.”

“Laskaris? Like the name on the sign outside?” Darya blinked in a way which screamed dumb blonde and Kimmie nodded at her. “Wow. He actually goes to his own clubs?”

“Usually his flagship ones,” Kimmie said with a shrug as she collected a few shot glasses. “It’s no secret this club and the one in Crete are his two favorites. He’s usually here or there.”

“That’s hot,” Darya said, and Dimi almost choked on her laughter as she reached for a shot glass and poured herself more vodka. “What about the other guy? Are they a couple? They have their arms over each other shoulders like they’re together.”

Dimi immediately dumped another shot of vodka down her gullet at Darya’s question.

“No!” Kimmie laughed, “oh my god no. Miklos likes women. He usually has a different one every few months, though I overheard him telling Helios tonight his days as a single man are over, whatever it means.” Kimmie rolled her eyes. “Greek men are very touchy feely with each other. They hug and k**s cheeks the way girls do. The other guy is his buddy Kostas Masalis. He owns a bunch of different businesses including shipping companies and an airline.” She leaned forward, “there’s more money between those two men than we would see in a thousand lifetimes.”

“I think I liked it better when I thought they were gay,” Darya joked. “Nobody should be so good looking and rich. You should have to choose!”

“Have you ever,” Magda asked Kimmie looking between her and the offices overhead, her innuendo clear.

Kimmie made a face of disgust, “I don’t s**t where I eat but even if I did, I am nowhere near the calibre of women they go for.”

“Hey, we think you’re great!”

“Thanks ladies, but they like rich, pipe cleaners.”

“Pipe cleaners?” Magda asked curiously.

“The kind who can bend like pretzels and have no backbone. They don’t talk back, argue, and just do as they’re told. They clean the pipes,” she made a face, “just so they can be given shopping sprees and pretty baubles.” She looked up and saw Helios looking in her direction, “I better get back. Can I bring you anything back?”

“Another bottle of Prosecco since we’re almost done this one,” Magda grinned at her, “it’ll be our last one though. Our girl’s been doing shot of vodka like its water and we’re going to be holding her hair back.”

Dimi giggled and held up her glass, “I’m good! I can handle my liquor.”

Kimmie disappeared and the girls huddled close.

“We should definitely go.” Magda said seriously.

“We can’t go now. It would look weird after we asked questions about the owner and his boyfriend if we just bailed. They’d think we are narcs or something,” Dimi grunted and held up her shot glass, “Salut!”

“Are you okay?” Darya asked her curiously. “What is going on?”

“Did you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, they like pipe cleaners.”

“Before that,” Dimi gave an exaggerated sigh, “Miklos told Helios his single days are over.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Do you see him on the dance floor? Do you see him hooking up or with girls hanging on him? We’ve been here almost three hours now and not once has he allowed any woman near him. He’s digging his heels in,” Dimi grunted.

“They’re leaving the upstairs offices. They’re taking the stairs back down to the club floor.” Magda said suddenly. “Why are Greek men always so touchy feely with each other?”

“Why do they all look like s*x on legs,” Darya complained. “How can the devil look so f*****g good?”

“We finish the bottle of Prosecco Kimmie brings, and we get the hell out of here,” Dimi said seriously. “You are drunk and horny. The last thing we need is to be prying you off the billionaire who ruined your life.”

Kimmie returned with the bottle and clean glasses. “Ladies, here you go.”

“Thanks, Kimmie,” Dimi pulled the glasses from her hands. “Ladies, one last toast to Maggie’s birthday! Yay Maggie!”

They raised their glasses in a toast and then giggled loudly as the glasses clashed and liquid spilled. Somehow though in getting Kimmie to dance with them one song, she talked them into another bottle of Prosecco and the girls cheered and agreed. What could one more hurt?