CHAPTER
TEN
____________________
Calder
I'd been standing here in my office for far too long now, obsessively watching the security feeds of The Indigo Room like it was some reality show I couldn't pull my eyes from. And the focus of my fixation? Ella.
I stared at the massive television mounted on the wall next to my desk that could be hidden behind a retractable canvas and disguised as a large piece of art. I'd kept it hidden last weekend, refusing to give in to the urge to spy on her while she worked, but tonight I couldn't resist. I absently ran my thumb over my lips, intently watching her hips sway as she moved from table to table to drop off drinks and take orders, and thinking about that unbelievable and godforsaken kiss yet again.
I couldn't stop thinking about it, no matter how I tried, the softness of her lips and the way she'd melted so willingly against me. I still wanted her. Each morning since, I'd woken in the aftermath of a vivid sex dream, rock hard, frustrated, and pissed off, the feelings persisting throughout the rest of the day. The constant physical pull toward her wasn't as strong or as frightening as the day I kissed her, but it was still worrisome and getting old. I needed to do something about it, and today I'd finally had enough.
I met Claudia at Désir Dangereux a few hours ago, intent on working out my sexual frustration on her in the hopes it would keep it at bay while working tonight. I had her kneeling naked for me in my private playroom, ready and willing for anything I wanted to do to her. I stood there in front of her with my crop in hand, ready to dish out the pleasure/pain that Claudia and I both craved.
Instead, I took one long look at her, and balked. This wasn't what I wanted. It was a poor substitute for her, the woman I really wanted. The one I longed to pleasure as much as I longed to hurt and to punish too. I knew Claudia would be up for all those things, her inner masochist a willing participant with my more sadistic tendencies when I played, but it wasn't fair to her to be a stand-in for another woman. It wasn't right to play when I was all twisted up inside like this. It was clear to me that I wasn't in the proper head space for this at all.
I said Claudia's name to call an end to the night, then froze with a jolt as she looked up at me. I dropped my crop as I suddenly saw what I'd never noticed before, her uncanny and unnerving similarities to her, from those blue eyes and that oval face to the long blond hair and tall slender body. I just stood there staring, horrified into silence by the revelation.
Had I unconsciously begun this arrangement with Claudia because she looked like her? Had she been a substitute for what I really wanted, to hurt and punish her for the past? For that matter, had all my other subs been too? They hadn't all been blonds, but there had certainly been a lot of them. Fuck.
"Sir?" Claudia finally asked worriedly when I hadn't moved or spoken for several long moments.
"I...I apologize, Claudia, but I can't continue this arrangement anymore," I said in a husky vulnerable sounding voice that gave away far more emotion than I intended. "I'm ending our contract."
Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked confused for a moment, but then a look of dawning understanding came over her face.
"What's her name, sir?" she asked in a curious tone as she smiled softly up at me.
Her reaction was unexpected and disconcerting. Even though Claudia had been clear from the start that this was merely physical for her too, I'd expected anger or at least a few tears, not this. We'd been playing together for several months after all.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied sharply, denying the truth I couldn't even handle myself.
She bowed her head respectfully. "Of course," she said in a dubious tone. "I'm sorry if I overstepped, sir."
With her head down and her hair obscuring her face, it was easy to start imagining that she was someone else kneeling there on the floor for me. The jolt of longing and arousal that hit me was distressing, and it infuriated me.
"Get dressed," I barked out abruptly, wanting to get her the hell out of here sooner than later. "I'll see you out to your car."
She dressed hurriedly, and I escorted her out of the empty club to her car, ignoring her worried and knowing glances as she got into her vehicle. I watched her drive away, then went straight to The Indigo Room after that. I'd been hiding in my office with the door locked watching her ever since.
Right now, she was walking across the club's main room. I tracked her across the different feeds split across the large TV screen, calm and confident as she walked. That is until she reached the empty hallway to the break room. Then her shoulders hunched, and her steps slowed as her demeanor faltered. She lifted her hands to wipe at her eyes. I stepped toward the television to get a closer look at her as unwanted sympathy fell over me. Was she crying? She disappeared into the break room where there was no camera before I could tell for sure.
I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes thoughtfully. She wasn't the same woman I remembered anymore. Something had dimmed the light that used to shine inside her, and practically snuffed it out. It really bothered me. I worriedly wondered what happened to her, a bone deep longing to go to her and comfort her coming over me.
I immediately glared at the screen, angry and irritated with myself. Why did I care? She was the one who snuffed out what little light I had left twelve years ago. She just took off, and I never saw her again. Whatever happened to her, karma had given her back what she deserved. I flipped the switch that lowered the canvas down to cover the television, and stalked over to my desk. I dropped into my chair with a low growl, intent on getting some work done to distract myself from my pointless and infuriating preoccupation with that woman.
A knock sounded on my door, and I leaped to my feet, grateful for the distraction. I opened the door to find Scott standing there. I sighed in relief. His calming presence was always a balm to me, and I needed it right now.
"Hey," he said as I stepped aside to let him enter. He had a file folder tucked under his arm and was wearing a gray T-shirt and khaki pants, which was pretty dressed up for him on any given day.
He walked unhurried across my office to the sitting area on the far side of the room and lowered himself onto the low gray sofa, then dropped the file folder down on the coffee table. Without a word, I went to the small refrigerator tucked in one corner and pulled out two bottles of sparkling water. I handed one to Scott and took a seat in a cream club chair across from him. I watched him open his drink as I did the same.
He motioned toward the file with the bottle in his hand. "I did that background check for you." He took a long pull from his drink as I set mine down and picked up the folder. "And it ain't pretty."
I eyed him sharply with narrowed eyes. He nodded toward the file, and I flipped it open. The first thing I saw was a photo of a tall fit middle-aged man in a designer suit with dark hair and a short beard. He was handsome, yet imposing as hell, with cold and intense dark-green eyes and the hard expression of a man not to be trifled with. I stared at the image uneasily. Something about this man rubbed me the wrong way.
"That's her late husband of eleven years, Raymond Voss," Scott explained.
Wow, eleven years. Ella didn't waste any time at all replacing me. I ignored the twinge of pain that clutched my heart at that thought as Scott continued.
"Before he was killed in a private plane crash several months ago, he was under investigation by the Feds."
My head shot up and I looked at Scott with wide incredulous eyes.
He nodded with a grim expression. "Apparently, he was some big-shot crime boss passing himself off as a legitimate business man, and a real piece of work. Drugs, possible murder, prostitution, money laundering. You name it, the Feds were looking into it."
"Holy fuck," I mumbled under my breath.
I flipped to the next photo. Voss was in this one too, and so was Ella. They were both dressed in elegant formal wear in a candid shot taken at what looked like some high-society event. Voss was escorting Ella with a proprietary hand on her arm that spoke of ownership, but without a hint of affection that I could see in his grim expression. Ella walked beside him with her eyes downcast, and her body language defeated and subdued. I frowned, not liking it one damn bit, even as a more doubtful thought occurred to me.
"If her husband was so rich, why is she working here?" I asked dubiously.
"The Feds seized everything right before he died. She's got nothing."
I narrowed my eyes at the photo. Was that why she was here now? Her sugar daddy died, and she was back home on the prowl for a new one? After all, she left me because I couldn't provide her with financial security. It seemed like almost too much of a coincidence for her to end up getting a job in my club. The jaded, bitter, and distrustful man I was couldn't help wondering if maybe she researched me and thought our old connection was something she could exploit for her own gain now that I had money.
Anger surged inside me in an instant. If that was the case, she was in for a rude fucking awakening. I ground my teeth together and crinkled the photo in my clenching hands. I scowled and shoved it back into the file, then slapped it down onto the coffee table, unable to stand looking at it any longer. I looked up to see Scott eying me closely in concern.
"You don't usually have me doing background checks on your employees," he said suspiciously. "And you look pissed as hell. What's going on?"
I sighed and rubbed my thumb across my lips. "It's her," I confessed bitterly.
Scott's brows practically flew up to his hairline. "That Ella?" he asked incredulously.
I nodded and leaned back into my chair as Scott scowled along with me now.
"What the fuck," he snarled out. He was one of only two people who knew about my history with her. His expression became concerned. "Are you okay?"
I glanced away shamefully and unconsciously fingered the crook of my left elbow, not relishing what I had to tell him next. "I visited my mother on Sunday," I said quietly. He was also one of only two people who knew about my mother. He also knew that I usually only visited her if I was battling down a really severe heroin craving, and he knew it had been a long time since I needed to.
"Did you use?" he asked sternly.
I met his eyes unwaveringly now. "No," I replied firmly.
He held my gaze for several long penetrating seconds, then nodded in satisfaction.
"You should fire her," he said with a hard expression.
"I know," I answered in a subdued tone.
"And if she's a gold digger trying to suck you in, then it's even more of a reason to can her ass, sooner than later," he continued harshly. "It's not worth your sobriety or your life." Scott was very protective of me for a good reason. He'd found me overdosing on several occasions, including the one when I almost died.
I nodded in agreement as the anger began to surge back up again at the thought of her coming here to try to use me.
Scott nodded in reply and stood. "I have to go," he said. "I've got some philandering dumbfuck to photograph tonight." He smirked. "Such is the glamorous life of a private investigator."
I somehow managed to give him a small smile. "Have fun."
"Oh, I will," he said with a grin. He always got perverse pleasure out of exposing cheaters. He winked at me and walked out.
My smile slipped away to be replaced by bitter anger again as soon as he closed the door behind him. Scott was right. She had to go. I stood and stalked out of my office, intent on doing just that, but not before I confronted her about her reason for being here, and gave her a piece of my mind if what I now suspected really was true.