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“And as a show of good faith and hoping that we can build a long and trusting relationship, I’d like to invite you to stay at the château as my guest for the weekend—free of charge, of course.”
Chase turned and was about to argue that such a generous gift was not necessary but was cut off by Matteo’s raised hand.
“There will be no discussion. I will have a private suite set up for you, and I’ll have fresh clothing brought to your room later this evening.” Matteo placed his muscular arm around Chase’s shoulders. The man was a few inches shorter than Chase, but that didn’t seem to bother Matteo.
“Thank you, sir. That’s very generous of you.”
“Good. Then it’s settled.” Matteo turned and marched back to the mansion, where laughter and music could be heard spilling into the gardens.
7
CHASE
The air was thick with the smell of sex and debauchery. All around him, music blared while men whistled and cheered. To his left, two Maison boys were making out with a balding Arab man, while to his right, another dancer was giving an Asian gentleman a lap dance.
He was standing in a den of sin, watching as each man gave in to his fantasies, enjoying himself and giving into his inner urges.
Up on stage, two dancers ground against each other while a third guy played with one of their asses. Men sitting closest to the trio groaned as they watched with hunger the live show unfolding before their eyes.
Throughout the room, Chase watched as each young man used their body to hypnotize the men around them and transport them to a fantasy land in which they became one with each of the dancers.
It was a Saturday night, which meant that La Maison de M was at its rowdiest. Packed to the brim, Chase watched the sea of well-dressed men flaunt over and pamper each of the men who graced their presence. Young men played with and tempted each of their potential suitors while enjoying the drinks and handfuls of cash being shoved into their underwear.
“Right this way, Mr. Harwick. Tonight, Mr. M would like you to enjoy our VIP lounge area—on us, of course,” a strapping young man with a thick Russian accent said as he escorted Chase through the club and into the VIP lounge area.
“Wow, this is… something else,” Chase gasped, still floored by how amazing the place was. The magic, the beauty, the sexual energy flowing through—it was all so intoxicating.
He sat down on a semi-circular couch and made himself comfortable. There were two bottles of Dom Pérignon champagne chilling in a bucket of ice next to the couch.
Jesus, this guy spares no expense.
“I hope you don’t mind a little company,” Matteo said as he approached Chase.
Wearing another well-tailored suit, the man’s perfectly-styled hair didn’t move as he sat down next to Chase. The man looked like a 1950s movie star, with Italian good looks, a perfectly squared jaw, and lips that could tempt the devil himself. He couldn’t have been any older than forty-two but still maintained the body of a thirty-year-old.
“Not at all. The company would be nice,” Chase said, hoping that no other exotic animals would be joining them. Chase still hadn’t recovered from his last encounter with a wild animal. Who keeps a tiger as a pet?
Matteo pulled a bottle of Dom from the bucket of ice and poured them each a glass of champagne. Bubbles rose to the top of the flute as Matteo passed Chase one of the glasses.
Chase had to admit, he never felt so fancy. Yes, he was essentially sitting in a whorehouse filled with naked men and raunchy sexcapades… but he was sitting here in a suit, sipping champagne with a dude who basically owned a fucking castle.
“Saluti,” Matteo cheered in Italian.
“À votre santé,” Cheers, Chase responded, trying to rehash all the French he had learned in high school.
In Canada, they taught kids French instead of Spanish in school since French was the official second language of Canada. Thank you, Quebec!
Matteo nodded, looking every bit as handsome and powerful as ever. “So, how was your dinner?”
Chase took a sip of his champagne, wanting to know what all the fuss was about. Everyone always boasted about how good Dom Perignon was.
He let the liquid roll around his tongue, trying to take in every sweet note he could. Holy hell, this shit was delicious! Okay, now he understood why rich people went batshit crazy for this stuff. And they set out two fucking bottles!! Shit, tonight he was getting fucked up like a baller!
Eyes falling back on Matteo, Chase suddenly realized he’d forgotten to answer the man’s question.
“Oh, shit. Yeah, the food was excellent. I’ve never had steak quite so flavorful and juicy before. My compliments to the chef.”
“I’ll let him know. Pierre always loves hearing positive reviews of his dishes. Being French, he takes great pride in his work and each meal that he creates. Each of his dishes was created using his own artistic flare.”
