At the very heart of finessing is seduction. It’s a sophisticated art, the ultimate form of power and persuasion. It’s the ability to get others to unconsciously submit to your will. If executed correctly it’s a lasting and effective form of power. Women have been finessing for centuries. Examples include; Bathsheba from the Old Testament; Helen of Troy from Greek mythology; and the greatest of them all Cleopatra of ancient Egypt. These women were the inventors of the art of seduction and ultimately finessing.

First they would draw in their unsuspecting men with an alluring appearance, teasing his imagination and stimulating the desire not just for sex but for something greater - a chance to possess a fantasy figure. Once they had their victim’s interest these women would lure them away into a world luxury, sceptical and pleasure.

Stassia, had long since mastered this dark art. Like these sirens of old she would ensnare her male victims with effortless charm.

(Afro Beats Music Blaring)

“This club is lit considering I’m not into African music” Amya exclaims loudly in my ear in an attempt to speak over the music

“I know right, this scene is pretty popping. African bouff daddy a plenty too, Stassi it’s a playground." I lean in to say to both of them. We all laugh.

Here we are in D'Den nightclub on Finchley Road in London, a truly Nigerian club. A nightclub on par with the likes of the upmarket Privé, Jalouse and Funky Buddha. D’Den is so exclusive it’s often frequented by the DJ Cuppy, who happened to be playing that night. She is the daughter of Femi Otedola, one of Nigeria's richest men. Nigerian champagne wars in D’Den have ended with the winner spending £1.1m.

We've been in the club less than five minutes and approach the bar. Waiting to be served a random guy hands Stassia a magnum bottle of Ace of Spades and three Champaign glasses.

“Thank you” we chime simultaneously all smiles

“My pleasure” he replies, returns a smile and walks off

We’re out because it’s Amya’s twentieth birthday in the week. She’s spending it with her boyfriend so of course we organise a last minute girlie night out. I've needed time to think about everything that has happened in recent weeks. The flashback and video evidence of Stassia's deceit have been weighing heavy on my mind. So naturally I throw myself into my university work. Besides that unlike rich bitch Stassia and kept woman Amya, I actually have a job in order to support myself. The only reason my mum and I live in the same upper middle class neighbourhood as Stassia is because our house was inherited from my grandfather. We’re far from rich. Sure I have a pretty good online following due to the fact that I appear regularly on her insta-famous page. However, I have an absent father and no male sponsor, so I work part time at a Mac Make-up concession.

The three of us circle the club to see who we recognise. We slide through the fairly large crowd like female red-sided garter snakes emerging from hibernation, releasing our pheromones to attract hundreds of males who will then surround us in a gigantic mating ball. Each member of our squad is one hundred - uniquely stunning. Naturally we get a lot of attention. The alpha males in the club like peacocks begin prancing around using their enormous wallets like tail feathers to attract our attention.

After a quick bathroom stop to mainly fix our hair and make-up we decide to stand not too far from the VIP lounge. The typical oversized mean looking bouncer guarding the entrance with a single red rope attached to two poles. We drink we dance and we look cute, it’s not long before we’re approached.

Mr Adewole or Ade for short. His name meaning king, crown or royalty. He’s 29 years old and worth more millions than he's prepared to tell.

He walks past, stops in front of me. Slowly looks me up and down examining every inch of my body. He takes my hand and kisses the back of it.

“You and you’re friend should follow me to VIP” He says

“Thank you but we’re ok here” I reply

Being around Stassia for all these years I've learnt a thing or two when it comes to finessing men. Resistance is the spur to a man’s desire, it adds to the thrill of the chase. And you should always let them chase according to Stassia who by the way was seething at the fact that for the first time ever I was getting attention from the rich guy instead of her. By putting an obstacle in his way I've given him the chance to prove his worth.

“Argh, I insist. A lady as beautiful as you should be nowhere else except VIP. Are you not an important person” He challenges me in his thick East London Nigerian accent 

“Oh, I'm important without being in VIP. If you insist, it would be rude of me and my friends to decline. Lead the way” I reply feeling confident and like the badest bitch for a change.

Was the group dynamic finally shifting? Am I the devoted follower become the finesser? Had the student become the master?

I could hear Stassi behind me saying to Amya “who is this bitch and what has she done with Kami” as we all trot behind Ade, past mean mugging bouncer, the red rope, up the stairs and into VIP.

We sit with Ade and his three friends in his booth. The table is over flowing with expensive bottles of alcohol. Ade is sitting next to me.

He leans over, “I knew you would join me”

“Yeah, what made you so sure?” I ask

“Because money talks, but wealth whispers” he says with a smile, sitting back in the sofa and lazily sipping his Ciroc mixed with Hennessey.

That whispering must be the oil, gas, property, telecoms and menswear tycoon wealth he possesses. Ade is well-known on the scene and hard to miss. He’s a tall, muscular, dark skinned man; very loud, quite brash and larger than life. Everything's over the top, he’s dressed ostentatiously in expensive clothing. The glint from the ice on his Breitling rose gold watch, encrusted with gemstones that seem to stand by themselves, nearly blinding you each time he moves his arm. His over the top stiff Versace jacket with embroidery and colours reminiscent of his cultural affiliation and Nigeria Identity.

He chatters on telling me about himself. As we’re talking I notice Stassia and Amya have disappeared to the ladies room. On return they seem extra turnt-up. I know that look, the gurning of lips and the signs of trying not to look high on coke. These bitches had gone and done a line without me. I excuse myself from Ade for a moment.

“Where you two been?” I ask

“Bathroom, whilst you were getting cosy with Mr Mandinga over here” Stassia replies insolently

“You had some sniff” I ask

“Yeah, here you go. But you’ll have to go by yourself.” Stassia passes me the Charlie.

I head towards the bathroom. In my cubical I take two lines. Before exiting I speak to a few girls in the toilets and get a few perfume sprays from the toilet attemdant. As you do on a night out. I return to our VIP booth.

Stassia is dancing with Ade. I turn my back for less than ten minutes and this girl has moved in. My seat hadn't even gone cold and she’s jumped in it. I make my way over with a resting bitch face. Without making it obvious I force my way in between the two of them. We’re all now dancing and having a good time. The coke has kicked in and the vibe is electric in the club. I'm having such a good time I take little notice of the fact that Stassia is having intermittent conversations with Ade. Subtly leaning on his shoulder, whispering in his ear and laughing at everything he says.

I stand there watching this bitch finesse this man, who was initially interested in me, from right in front of me. Helpless to do anything I watched this siren woo him away. A predatory, femme fatale tempting him away with banshee screams pledging heavens joy. 

How could I win against a professional charmer who fulfils every aspect of sexuality and is so alluring and addictive?

It’s a process I've seen many times before. Stassia begins by working on their minds - stimulating fantasies. She keeps a man wanting more by creating patterns of hope and despair. Using the psychological essence of seduction, she is indirect and cunning. The charisma radiating from her is rooted in her mystery to these guys. You see mystery expressed by contradiction, lies at the heart of Charisma. She is both intimate and distance, attached and detached, hot and cold. It makes it difficult for her victim to fathom her. It adds richness to her character and makes her all the more seductive.

Ultimately turning cold and indifferent, she confuses her victims just when he wants more he finds this pleasure withdrawn. He is forced into a pursuit trying anything to gain back the favours he once tasted and grows weak and emotional in the process. Weakened he eventually succumbs to her every demand, she then continues to repeat the cycle  and plays the game until something more interesting comes along.

Everyone's still dancing but I sit down in the booth. After everything that's happened and now this – I'm fuming.

The club closes at 3am. The nights still young so Ade suggests we accompany him and his friends to his apartment. We have our own hotel room, again booked and paid for by Stassia's sugar daddy Wayne. It's not our money going to waste so we decide to join them.

Mr Ade as he informs us he likes to be called. Resides in a five bedroom Grade two listed penthouse apartment. Literally converted across three buildings it has an abundance of outside space. A rarity in London. To top it of it's in Knightsbridge, central London. Now, a one bedroom flat would easily cost a million pounds in this area - and that would be a fixer upper. So you can imaging the cost and opulence of his apartment.

The wide, open-plan, clean living space. Lutron lighting and a variety of carefully chosen marble, fabric and wood finishes. Decorated to the highest quality and decked out with swanky expensive furniture and gadgets. Interconnecting entertaining rooms circling an outside large patio area with contemporary furniture, fresh flowers, a fire place and a barbecue. It's most certainly a rich boys den.

We all sit outside as its a cool London Night in June. Serenadesd by low playing old school R&B with the occasional inner city London noisy ambiance. There's more alcohol and Stassia of course is smoking weed with Ade's friend. She loves her weed. Us girls excuse ourselves every now and then to do a line of cocaine in his bathroom. We decide to build a booky, which is a spliff laced with cocaine, we save it for a little later having just done a line.

I decide to use the opportunity to speak with Ade one on one to remind him he saw me first. It's a group setting though so we keep getting interrupted. I'm helping Amya escape from one of Ade's friend who's hitting on her and not taking the hint that she's not interested. I realise, Stassia and Ade are no longer outside - Missing from the group.

The after party begins to whine down. Amya is crashed out on a sofa inside and a few of Ade's friend have left. I'm laying on another sofa opposite Amya watching his last remaining friend play Fifa.

"You wanna play" He asks handing me the other controller

"Nah I'm not very good at those games" I answer

I lay on the sofa. Putting on a brave face but inside I fell nothing but anguish and anger. I'm still not sure if I was date raped playing her third wheel. She's fucking Amya's man. Now she steals a potential guy blatantly in front of me. They've been gone for hours and it's clear we're unlikely to see them again until in the morning. In that moment I realise how fake she is, her charisma, is an illusion. What if those who see her as having something they want; or having what they lack; are exposed to the real Stassia Santiaga.

Pay back is a bitch. I don't yet know how. I know everything about her which, is enough to make her crumble. Shiiiiit I got receipts and I'm going to make this Jezebel pay.