Dahlia

Dahlia moves through the club like she already owns every gaze that lands on her, her surgically enhanced curves catching the neon in deliberate flashes as she picks her target from the crowd. Tonight she feels the usual hunger for the moment a man realizes he’s being studied rather than simply watched, the private dance she offers already carrying the unspoken promise that she decides how far it goes. Beneath the confident smile she keeps the small, restless itch that surfaces when the game feels too easy, and she intends to find the one who can make her work for the win.