I’VE BEEN SITTING AT MY desk for the past hour, my legs propped on top, my arms resting behind my head as I stare out the two-way mirror. It’s funny to think in less than two weeks this place won’t be mine. The documents sit in front of me, waiting to be looked over and signed. Just like that. For years, I’ve dreamed about walking away. And now it’s finally going to happen.
The day I got the call about the accident, it didn’t occur to me it was also the call ending my dreams. I rushed home and sat at my brother’s bedside for hours, days. I forced it into weeks, praying he would wake up—a miracle would strike my family and he would open his eyes. The number of hours I stared at those monitors, waiting for a blimp of motion…but nothing.
I went through all the emotions as I sat there asking why this happened. I was so angry at my father. He never gave my brother a chance to be his own person. He groomed him from the day he began walking, creating Exquisite into his future. Regret hit me so hard realizing I never asked James what he would have become if not for the family business. Would he have gone into business still? Become a doctor? Traveled with me? In my selfishness to leave home and find my own way, I never once thought about what he was going through. But never in our life together did he lead me to believe he wasn’t happy with the way his life turned out. He idolized my father. He wanted to be on top. With everything. The woman, the money, the drinking. He would have followed my father anywhere. And in the end, he did. To his own grave.
I think about the first couple years after I gave up my life to run Exquisite. The long nights, women, and drinking. How easily I fell right into the shoes of them both. My passion for art and travel became a distant memory as I ran the club. And with running it, came the change in my preferences. The sex, the promiscuity—I knew nothing walking through those doors. But Fredrick taught me. He threw women at me who taught me exactly what was offered inside those private rooms. In the first year alone, I had my fair share of sex, threesomes, and bondage experiments to last a lifetime. But with everything in my life, nothing compared to the fulfillment of art. All the random women at the drop of a hat got old. The temptations got stale. I was no longer falling down the rabbit hole. I was drowning in it. A life I, at one point, always despised.
I was in my third year running Exquisite when I had my first breakdown. I wanted out. I couldn’t do it anymore. I threatened to burn the place down and be done. Cursed my father for trapping me into this life. Fredrick stepped in and saved me from lighting that match. Convinced me to stick to the business side of it and allow him to run the other half. The half I despised. The shit I saw day in and day out…I felt like a monster, to allow people to treat one another with such distaste. I refused to be like the people who entered this club with the intent to harm another just to get off. The woman who begged to be violated. The married couples who pleaded to watch their spouse fuck another. I refused to be that type of man.
But then the years passed, and I grew into the exact person I never wanted to be.
A sadistic motherfucker.
I fell into line with my role. I’ve taken whips, chains, and my hand to a woman’s skin, women, until their flesh was raw enough to bleed. I fucked in ways still not written in the handbooks. I’ve dominated men, women, and taken control of this club in ways I wonder if my father would have been able to.
I slowly became the monster my father was.
But worse.
And now, I’m finally going to set myself free.
My mind goes to Jensen. My savior. My sweet, foul-mouthed little pet who gave me the light I needed to torch this place. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I laugh at how things transpired between us. She makes me feel like a better man. The nineteen-year-old boy who wanted to make a difference in the world.
I’m still a bastard, though. Taking my hand to her sweet ass is something I won’t stop doing. It will always be the fucked-up sickness my father embedded in me. I would hate myself even more for all the things I’ve done to her. The ropes, the toys, the teasing. But that’s just the thing. My little pet is loving it. Who would have thought my innocent girl wants to be spanked and controlled? Too bad she’s the one controlling me.
She opens places inside me I’ve closed off. A coldness in me she’s suddenly given warmth to. She was never supposed to be anything important to me. But now? She’s becoming everything. I shake my head, still in disbelief. I want to convince myself this is all just still a game. I took what I wanted from her. Her innocence. But what she took from me weighs heavier. My heart.
“God.” I laugh at myself. I sound like a fucking pussy. Speaking of pussy, I pick up my phone to send her a text. I need her to get back here. I need to taste her until she’s spasming on my tongue. Be inside her. Hear her damn snorting laugh.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call as I text Jensen a few dirty words. I know she’s in class. She won’t be able to sit through without her curiosity giving in, and it gives me great satisfaction knowing she’ll squirm in her chair. I smile, just as Fredrick enters my office. “What is it?”
He tosses a stack of papers on my desk. “This.”
I look down at the copy of the contract of sale. “What of it?” I pull my feet off my desk.
“You’re not serious with this, are you?” I look at Fredrick with a stern face, not liking the way he’s speaking to me.
“I’m dead serious. And it’s happening, whether you approve or not. Not that you have a say.” Standing, I grab the contract, crunch the paper between my brutal grip, and toss it into my desk drawer. I grab for my phone and check to see if Jensen responded.
“Damien, you need to think this through. This girl. She’s messing with your head. I’ve told you from the beginning she wasn’t a good idea. You need to get rid—”
“She is none of your fucking business.” I slam my fists on my desk. “And the deal is done.” Taking a deep breath to rein in my anger, I step aside and walk over to the window. The afternoon staff is in stocking the bar and preparing for the busy night ahead. I lift my phone and check again.
“But we’ve talked about this. You can’t just sell. Other people have shares in the company. Your father left part of it to Patricia. She’ll refuse to sell.”
“My father’s whore is not my problem anymore.”
I hear a soft growl coming from behind me. Fredrick has always had a thing for Patricia, but the feeling was never mutual. “You didn’t say that when you took over for him,” he spits out.
I whip around, my eyes blazing. “You will watch your tone with me. Remember who you work for.”
“And you’re becoming a disgrace to this business. Running around like a schoolboy. Candlelit dinners, date nights, blowing off what’s important because that child has somehow captured your attention. Her cunt can’t be that—”
My hands are up and around his neck. I squeeze and whip him around, slamming him into the window hard enough to nearly crack the glass. “I warned you,” I hiss. My grip tightens. “And you know I don’t ask twice.” His hands fumble around my fingers, trying to pry them from around his neck. “I should have never allowed you to steer me down this path. I should’ve listened to my gut and burned this fucking place down fifteen years ago. But now, I’m done. And so are you. Get the fuck out.” I toss him to the side, and he trips forward, his hands instantly going to his neck as he gulps in deep breaths.
“Damien, listen I—”
“I said get out! Or I’ll throw you out. If I see you around here again, I’ll fucking bury you myself.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but the look in my eyes stop him. Murder has never been my solution to a problem, but I’ll put him six feet under if he speaks her name. If looks could kill, his feelings are similar. But in this case, I’m the one who will win here.
Without another word, he turns and storms out. I don’t realize I’m shaking until I pull my phone out and check for messages. Where the hell is she? I type out another one, this time, sterner, demanding she respond. I need her wittiness to calm me so I don’t run after Fredrick and follow through on my murderous thoughts.
I finish my text as Fredrick appears below, storming across the dance floor. He’s stopped by Kade, who’s holding the order sheets from the booze delivery. I don’t have to hear him to know he’s getting Fredrick to sign off on it. I dial Kade’s number and he grabs his phone while handing off the forms.
“Yeah, boss.”
“Don’t have Fredrick sign. He’s done here. I want you to make sure he leaves, then get all the club’s locks and codes changed. You’ll finish bartending tonight, then work under me.” I fail to mention the sale in two weeks. The less chatter, the better. “When that’s taken care of, I need you to deliver a letter for me. It’s important.”
Kade looks up at the mirror. Fredrick follows his gaze, then tosses the clipboard and storms off. I end the call and dial Jensen’s bat phone, as she likes to call it. It goes to voicemail.
“What the fuck is she doing?” She would never turn the phone off. The battery must be dead. There’s no other way she wouldn’t answer. I think to last night and how I fucked her hard and fast, then slow and sweet, over every inch of my loft. I barely gave her time to get her shoes off, let alone time to charge her phone.
I shoot off a text to Kade.
Me: I need you to run that errand first. I’m sending a sheet to the printer in the conference room. Take that to the address attached. Classroom 212. Jensen Stone.
Kade: On it.
I type out a message telling Jensen to meet me at the Planetarium at nine.
I try to refocus on the papers now shoved in my drawer. The proposal created to convince Patricia to sell. A deal she won’t refuse. It’s never been clear how she got her hands on the shares in the first place. Early on, she tried to convince me it was my father’s wishes for her to be a partner in the club. They were in love and going to get married, but his death got in the way. Well, love didn’t seem to stop her when she seduced me into sleeping with her three weeks after we put him in the ground. That’s where I first went wrong with this place—picking up exactly where my father left off. Starting with his mistress. The special treatment, the gifts, the money. Once the high wore off, I realized I was getting played. I smartened up and cut her off. But getting rid of her wasn’t easy.
Her signature managed to make its way onto the deed, legally claiming a percentage. Getting rid of her business wise seemed impossible, but not getting her out of Exquisite. I made some calls and offered her a chance at a real life, paid for her degree at the elite university and used my connections to land her a job.
She hadn’t been a problem for years.
Up until now, when Jensen popped up in her class.
I sign the bank transfers moving money around into certain accounts, then look at the time. Three hours have passed. My phone indicates no texts, so Jensen’s phone is still dead. Until I see her, my focus is shot. I drop my pen and get ready to head to my loft to shower.
A knock sounds on my office door.
“What is it?”
Tracy, the first shift bartender, opens the office door and peeks her head in. “Hey, boss. Sorry to bug you, but this was just dropped off for you.”
She steps in just far enough to hand me the note, and then quickly exits.
Unfolding the piece of paper, I read the typed message.
Play a game with me.
Help me fulfill a desire. Meet me in Private Room H at ten o’clock.
Come hungry.
<3 Jensen
An ease settles in my stomach and my lips curl into a mischievous smile. Looks like my little pet has better plans for us tonight.
I toss the letter onto my desk and head upstairs.
Oh, I’ll come hungry all right.