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Looking behind me, I watch as the outside world fades into darkness, as though I’m entering a different realm altogether. Taking in the meticulously manicured gardens on either side of the long driveway, I note all the lighting spread across the estate. There is a red flag in the distance, close to what appears to be a tall, green maze. Could that be where the chase happens? Primal play was outlined clearly as one of the activities for tonight.
My stomach churns with equal excitement and fear, knowing the main reason I opted for tonight’s event was so I could take part in the outdoor chase. I spoke to the event coordinator several times, and she assured me I am free to watch if that’s all I want to do, or if the mood strikes me, I can join in on the fun. The fact that I have control over tonight brings a certain level of comfort. Considering I’m a woman with zero experience, driven by fantasy alone, it’s important to keep my safety and the safety of those around me at the forefront of my mind. Safety coordinators will also be there tonight, making sure everyone remains unharmed and consent is exchanged between all players involved.
I’ve been reminding myself of these facts for the last three days. Saying I am nervous and filled with anxiety is an understatement, but I’ll take this distraction any day. I have this need to have someone force my mind to quiet, to shut down and remove all the weight from pulling me under.
I want to feel alive. To forget who I am and where I come from. To forget that no one has ever loved me, chosen me, stayed with me…to forget that if I were to disappear tomorrow, no one would even care. No matter what happens, life will rearrange itself to fill my absence, and that thought alone is terribly sad. I’m tired of being sad and angry all the time. I want to feel desired, pleasure, excitement…I want to feel truly wanted, even if it’s for one night.
The massive manor finally comes into sight, stealing my breath as I stand in awe of the towering Gothic Revival architecture. Having studied buildings like this for years, the wannabe architect inside me can't help but drool. I wouldn't mind spending the entire night exploring every intricate detail of this remarkable structure.
“Wow,” the driver whispers, his voice startling me.
“I know.”
The car stops, and the driver turns, waiting for me to exit the car.
“What do I owe you?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s all covered. Have a good night.”
Grinning, I feel a flush creeping across my face as I give one final glance over my deep-red, skintight dress. The slit, starting at the top of my thigh, descends gracefully down to my black heels. I briefly check to ensure everything's in place, adjusting my dress. Picking up the black-and-red masquerade mask adorned with delicate crystals from the seat beside me, I secure it firmly to my face.
“Thank you.” With a shaky hand, I pull on the handle.
Grabbing my clutch and stepping out of the vehicle, I’m distracted by the majestic mansion, taking in its tall spires which appear to be kissing the sky. A true, fairy-tale castle come to life; as though I’ve been transported back in time to the 1800s and am about to attend one of the many lavish balls from The Vampire Diaries.
With unstable legs, I pinch the side of my dress and walk up the marble staircase leading to the most beautiful wooden doors I’ve ever seen. The swirls and carvings are so acutely elaborate, they could only have been carved by an artist. The doors are triple my size, and at each end, stands a man, both dressed in all black suits with simple, matte black masks.
I pull out my discreet, black invitation card, as one of the doormen approaches me with a small device. He scans the seemingly empty black card, and before I finish that thought, a light shines down, highlighting a holographic barcode. The man looks up at me and gives me an expressionless nod. The other man opens the door for me, and I take one last look over my shoulder, watching the taillights of the car disappear down the empty driveway.
Here we go.
DOMINIK
This feels surreal, like a hallucination.
Not a single drop of liquor has passed my lips, so I can't blame it on alcohol.
But it can't possibly be her, can it?
I recognized her figure from afar, the unique way she moves, the gleam of her hair... It must be her.
What the fuck is she doing here? Is she lost? Did someone invite her here under false pretenses?
There would be one dead giveaway to know for sure it’s Zoe—a small, purple butterfly tattoo on the inside of her left wrist—but she’s too far away for me to spot it.
My eyes track her around the dark room as she reluctantly hands her invitation card and her cellphone to the blonde sitting behind the propped-up desk in the front foyer. The club owners rented this estate forty minutes outside of the city limits, knowing the players would want to let loose tonight. Special events like this don’t happen often, and no one would be able to get in without being vetted prior to the event or personally invited by someone. I need to know which one of these assholes let in a nineteen-year-old, vanilla woman. And after that, I need to corner Zoe to find out why the hell she would think it’s a good idea to attend a BDSM party alone.
She can’t know you’re here.
Goddammit.
If it’s Zoe and she’s here alone…
No…this can’t happen. She won’t identify me in this guise—these brown contacts I wear to obscure my distinctive eyes and the mask that conceals half my face. I'm doubly disguised tonight, feeling the need to cover my tracks more thoroughly, aware that I could be easily recognized here. I even allowed Mom to cut my hair, opting for a style that would make it harder for people to spot me. She trimmed the sides short, leaving the top slightly longer.
I thought I was being a bit too paranoid, but as luck would have it, my best friend’s little sister just walked through the doors.
Fucking hell.
