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CHAPTER2
Cassie
My name is Cassie Lark.I’m a good girl. I follow the rules. I never stray.
Until now.
And on this day I was Dahlia, the Black Dahlia to be exact. While I’d planned this moment for almost three months, I’d remained determined not to be attracted to my mark. But everything had changed the moment I’d been brought before him like a prized doll. Alexander Durante was captivating, his commanding actions nothing like I’d expected.
Mysterious.
Alluring.
Handsome.
The three words categorized the horrible man perfectly. He wasn’t the monster I’d prepared myself for seeing. There was a level of polish exuding from every pore. He was suave and sophisticated, a truly powerful man. He radiated sensuality in every movement, and his deep baritone was almost as exciting as the way he handled himself. He was domination personified.
Why did that attract me? I’d never looked twice at a man like him, let alone a ruthless killer.
Except I’d almost met him once before and had thought of him far too often. He wouldn’t remember. A monster like him would never recall a moment that had meant something to me. I was thirteen at the time, my existence barely acknowledged, but I’d never forget the butterflies swarming my stomach or the lightheadedness I’d felt. But this bastard hadn’t registered my existence.
Instead, he’d issued a threat, horrible words said during a heated exchange, but I’d known then that he’d make good on his murderous promises. I’d hidden away after that, catching glimpses a few additional times until my mother had banished him from our property at gunpoint. I would never forget that day.
The day a portion of my world crumbled away, falling into a deep abyss. Maybe that had been the moment I’d promised myself that I’d get even with the men who’d taken something precious from me.
I’d studied him extensively, gleaning everything I could from my internet searches. He was articulate, highly intelligent, and likely the most cunning man I’d met. The fact that I was attracted to him pissed me off, but at least that could provide some assistance with what I was about to attempt.
Vow…
Remember.
I took a deep breath, returning to my Dahlia persona, a limited protection easing some of the butterflies in my stomach.
And I couldn’t believe I’d tossed a drink in his face, but it had allowed me to be singled out, which is exactly what I’d needed in order to act on my plan of revenge.
“Get your slimy hands off me!” I knew struggling with the brute who’d dragged me toward one of the ‘special’ rooms wasn’t going to do me any good, but I did what I could even though I kept my voice low. The muscular bouncer didn’t say a word as he dragged me down a long hallway, making a sharp turn to the right. I knew the area.
All the girls did, especially the dancers. Most of them had taken a turn or two inside one of the private suites, every room designed with a treat for the members in mind. But each room had nothing to do with the kind of fun normal people longed to add into their lives. The tastes of the wealthy, powerful men were twisted, sick in every kind of way.
At least the women who’d participated in accepting special invitations had been paid well. While I’d only been working in the toxic establishment for two weeks, I’d seen enough repulsive events to keep my blood curdling.
Vow. Remember your vow. Tonight you’re Dahlia. This is what you’ve been waiting for, planning for.
While my inner voice was correct, that didn’t reduce the number of butterflies swarming in my stomach or eliminate the tic in the corner of my mouth. I had to get my shit together or my cover would be blown.
The second the beefy bouncer opened a door, he tossed me inside, lingering in the doorway.
I almost lost my footing from his forceful shove, stumbling forward on my stiletto boots. Then I took a deep breath, rising to my full height. At least in the thigh-high leather I stood over six feet tall. I shored my shoulders and twisted my head so I could glare into the fucker’s eyes. The smile he wore was just as disgusting as the three hundred pounds of him.
“Don’t try to get out. There is no way. Be a good girl for Mr. Durante and you will be rewarded. He usually never tastes the merchandise. You should feel honored.”
With that, he slammed and locked the door. Was I supposed to feel excited that I’d been chosen by a brutal, heartless killer to become his flavor of the month? I sucked in my breath, finally daring to look around the room.
I’d been given a short tour of the facility after I was hired, but never shown inside one of the rooms. The manager, craggy-faced Paul, had made certain I knew the guest suites were completely off limits unless invited. I’d turned down several of those very special invitations, which angered not only management but several of the members. But I wasn’t here to pad my bank account or develop another earnings source. I was here to keep a promise.
I took a deep breath, trying to control my rapidly beating heart as I walked around the room. I almost laughed at the décor alone. Everything was in red, deep red, the color of blood. The walls. The tile floor. The sconces. The erotic artworks adorning the walls were all based in crimson or scarlet depictions of couples, framed in gold.
Even the couches, while plush and obviously expensive, were red velvet, the design emulating the twenties, with gilded frames, pillows with tassels seemingly tossed around—yet I knew they’d been strategically placed. There was a small bar in the back of the room, although management discouraged use of alcohol while in session in one of the private rooms. While the rules of the private club were clear, I doubted anyone paying the hefty yearly fee was required to follow them.
