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Dmitri could only smile in return, thinking there would come a time when Micah would eat those words.
Chapter 7
The plane touched down in Vegas at nine o’clock at night. Stomach full, and pleased by the meeting with the DC, Dmitri headed down the stairs of the private jet
. Once on the tarmac, he drew the dry air into his lungs and fired off a text to Miles: Need to meet. My office? Now?
Waiting for a response from Miles, he walked over to where he’d left his car in the small airport’s parking lot. Steps away from his sports car, a beep drew his attention back to the phone’s screen.
Miles responded: Be there in fifteen.
With next steps taken care of, Dmitri scrolled through his contacts until he reached the security department of Aces. Tension rode his shoulders as he hit call and pressed the phone to his ear. The night guard answered on the second ring. “Craig, it’s Dmitri. Miles Sanchez will be arriving at Aces in fifteen minutes. Please allow him access to my office.”
“Of course, sir,” Craig replied.
“Thank you.” Dmitri ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket.
Not wasting any time, he got into his car and booked it across the city. Though the night was clear, the city’s lights stole the view of the stars. Strain, hope, and concern made him drive faster than he had in some time. The car purred in pleasure.
Once he reached the casino, which featured a facade reminiscent of ancient Roman architecture, he took a hard left, pulling into the front. Urgency swirled inside him as he drove along the right side of the building and entered the underground parking area. The sounds from the muffler echoed throughout the parking garage until he pulled into the last spot on the right.
In no time, he was in the elevator and on his way to the offices on the third floor of Aces. When the door chimed open, Dmitri spotted Miles, leaning against the empty receptionist desk, folded arms emphasizing his thick, six-foot-five body.
“Thank you for meeting me so quickly,” Dmitri said, suddenly feeling like this day had been one of the longest of his life. Hell, the past couple of days seemed like a lifetime—not anything he ever wanted repeated.
“Not a problem.” Miles regarded Dmitri with his stern dark eyes. “What’s up?”
Dmitri motioned Miles forward, and the other man followed Dmitri into the office at the end of the hallway. Low lights remained on throughout the offices, even though the business day was long over. When Dmitri entered his office the motion sensors kicked in, turning on the lights, and Dmitri moved to his desk, taking a seat.
Once Miles sat down across from him, Dmitri said, “I have a proposal for you.”
Miles ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair, displaying the dragon tattoo on his forearm that marked him a Master of Club Sin. “What type of proposal?”
The reminder of the dungeon, and the symbol behind the tattoo, only made Dmitri more confident in his next steps. “What would you think of opening a nightclub here in Vegas?”
Miles brows shot up. “A nightclub?”
“The club would be a front for a new Club Sin.” Excitement bounced through him. “We need a more secure location. The house has been compromised, and that’s not something that I’ll allow to happen again.”
He paused, letting Miles process what he was hearing, then continued. “You have said that you wanted to find something new in regard to a business venture. Something exciting and fresh. And I wondered if you’d be interested in investing in and being the sole owner of the nightclub.”
“I’m not uninterested.” Miles considered Dmitri with a curious glance. “But explain.”
Dmitri set to doing exactly that, sketching out what the members of the DC had successfully achieved. “We find a safe location for the dungeon. What I’m thinking is that we’ll use the main floor as a high-class nightclub. Top-notch. Luxurious.” Spotting the pinch of concern rushing along Miles’s expression, Dmitri added, “I can personally front the money as a silent investor.” He hesitated, then felt it necessary to add, “Club Sin was created in honor of Charles, and I don’t want to forget that. I want the dungeon to run in the same manner that we saw in Club Sin, but I also want to distance myself from it.”
“Understandable.” Miles inclined his head in agreement. “But let me ask you this: how can a nightclub also be the location of a private and exclusive BDSM dungeon?”
“It’s actually an ideal location.” Dmitri had thought it out as he traveled back from San Francisco to Las Vegas. A nightclub was a perfect front—and he knew of a club that was currently on the market and in a prime location. “It explains why people come and go late into the night, perhaps dressed in sexy clothing. Of course, we’ll have to create a rule that states no lingerie until visitors have cleared security. And I think it only makes sense to have the dungeon area soundproofed.”
Miles’s brows drew together in concentration. “Okay, I can see how this plan makes sense. Next thing is, how will you ensure that no one who’s not authorized gains access to the dungeon?”
“We’ll have an area that to the public seems like a VIP area but in fact will be the spot where we have the door to access the dungeon. Meaning that only Club Sin members can gain access to that area. We can hire security for the entrance to the dungeon and have two security checkpoints on the way into the private area of the club. In fact, I’ve received some advice tonight that pointed me in the direction of a security company known to work with politicians.”
Miles snorted. “And that’s important because they are their own brand of trouble?”
“Not necessarily,” Dmitri countered. “But because they are known to keep damaging stories under wraps and away from the public. Besides, someone I trust runs this company. Someone who would ensure this matter is taken seriously.”
The silence between them hinted that Miles wanted to know whom Dmitri had gone to see today, but he let it go and said merely, “Let me get this straight. The main idea is that you are simply a silent partner in the nightclub. If the dungeon is exposed, the hit would land on me?”
