The office of Viktor, the esteemed owner of the most popular nightclub in the city, was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small table lamp on his desk. The room was filled with the scent of expensive cigars and whiskey, a testament to Viktor's lavish lifestyle.
The door swung open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Ania stormed into the room, her eyes blazing with fury. She had heard the rumors, the whispers of Viktor's latest conquest, but she had not believed them. Until now.
Her gaze zeroed in on Barbi, the Instagram model, sprawled on Viktor's desk. Barbi's body was still trembling from the aftershocks of an intense orgasm, her heavily made-up face contorted into a exaggerated "o" shape - a clear sign of an ahegao face. Ania couldn't help but sneer at the sight.
"You dirty slut," Ania spat out, her voice laced with disgust. "Couldn't keep your legs closed, could you?"
Barbi, still semi-conscious, tried to respond, but all that came out was a slurred mumble. Ania rolled her eyes at the pathetic sight.
Viktor, a middle-aged man with a sleazy smile, looked on with satisfaction. He casually adjusted his disheveled clothes, completely unbothered by the intrusion.
"Ah, Ania, my dear," Viktor said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "I didn't expect you so soon."
Ania's gaze shifted to Viktor, her eyes narrowing. "I came as soon as I heard," she said, her voice cold.
She took in Barbi's body, noting the cum dripping from the model's holes. The sight of it, the evidence of the other woman's promiscuity, fuelled Ania's anger.
With a swift movement, Ania pulled out the piercing from Barbi's tongue. The model screamed in pain, her eyes widening in shock.
"You bitch!" Barbi cried out, her voice hoarse.
Ania grabbed Barbi by her hair, dragging her off the desk. She dragged the model out of the room, her high heels clicking against the marble floor.
Viktor followed them, a smirk on his face. He enjoyed the sight of Ania's rage, found it amusing.
"Ania, my dear, there's no need for such violence," Viktor said, his voice laced with amusement.
Ania turned around, her eyes blazing with fury. "Violence?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is just the beginning, Viktor."
She took Barbi to the club's dance floor, the lights flashing around them. She forced the model into a split, stretching her limbs.
With a cruel smile, Ania jumped, landing both her heels on Barbi's pussy. The model screamed, her body convulsing in pain.
Ania stood there, her breath heavy, as Barbi lies beneath her, whimpering in pain. She looked down at the model, a sense of satisfaction washing over her.
"You're nothing but a whore," Ania said, her voice cold. "And now, you're my whore."
She turned around, leaving Barbi on the dance floor. Viktor clapped his hands, amused by the display.
Ania walked away, her body humming with adrenaline. She had won this round, but she knew this was not the end. There's more to come, and she's ready for it.
As she walked away, she couldn't help but think about the next move. Ania was a strong, controlling woman, and she was not about to let Viktor get away with this. It was a dance of vengeance, and Ania was the lead dancer.
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