“I left you a note. Everything is fine.”
I don’t know why, but I don’t believe him. How could he find out the identity of the person and end my nightmare in a few hours?
Unless—
His hand catches my arm. Before I can protest, he lifts me off my feet and carries me down the darkened corridor, flashes a card across a door reader. A green light flickers and he pushes the door open with me grasped in his embrace.
“What are you doing? I cry out.
“Saving you from yourself.”
We are greeted with another hallway. This time only two doors are ahead. He glances around him, but there is nobody here but us.
This is a part of the sex club I’ve never ventured into. The seedy part Milly told me all about. The area where the members are hidden behind a wall of fake identities and enough money for the owners of the club to not pay attention.
The club is owned by Dominic’s son, Rafe and his partner, Cade.
Dominic flashes his card again and another door opens. There’s nobody around but us and even if I managed a high-pitched screech, there is no one to rescue me.
My brain is misfiring, the warning alarm blaring loud and clear. I want to kick him, shuffle out of his hold, but I can’t seem to move as fear grips me.
Inside the room, he sits on the large leather chair with me on his lap. One of his arms is around my waist, his other hand plays with the hem of my skirt.
Panic burns through my veins.
He presses a button, and the black curtains glide to one side. My eyes are fixated on the movement of the fabric...until something else catches my eye.
What the hell is going on?
“Do you like what you see?” he asks as I stare ahead.
A woman dressed in a lacy bodysuit lies on a round table. Her legs and arms are stretched, making an X of her body. Her ankles and wrists are tied with leather binds.
One man leans forward and rubs his thumb over her nipple as the girl writhes. And I don’t know if she wants more or if it’s from fear.
I take my eyes away from the girl and look at the man. He is wearing a black mask with an emblem I can’t see clearly from my position in this room, but it looks like a family coat of arms—perhaps asyndicate symbol.
He looks at the glass and I don’t know if he can see us or if the glass in this room is one-way.
“I told SweetJustice this is the room the deals are going down,” Dom strokes my thigh, higher and higher. “We can watch it unfold together. We can find out who your blackmailer is.”
“Are you setting these people up?” I swallow hard.
“They are all willing participants.”
A door opens behind the man and another four men come inside. All wearing identical masks.
I slam my hand over my mouth and mutter, “I should go home.”
“It’s too late, Amara.” His enormous arms remain locked around my body, but I don’t feel safe and secure.
This is Dominic, and everything happens for a reason.
The men walk slowly, then they line up, and one by one, each takes his place around the table. It’s like they are taking strategic positions around the girl. That each man knows his place.
The table spins and the men touch her. First it’s her legs, stroking lightly as she floats by them. Gentle touches of her stomach, her arms, and her face. Then one man pulls her hair. Her face tilts back as she glides by him.
I’m not sure if that was a warning.
