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ELSA
“Whatever you do,don’t fuck him.”
"Pardon?” I sputter.
Taylor’s comment catches me off-guard, spiking my heart rate and bringing a flush to my face. I quickly tuck the last strand of my white-blonde hair into the black leather and lace mask before I turn to face her.
My boss smirks wryly as she finishes adjusting her own mask. Hers is a far simpler gold and matte black piece that just hides the top half of her face—as opposed to mine, more hood than mask, which covers that plus my hair, all the way down to the nape of my neck. Oh, and it has cat ears. I look like some kind of kinky feline Fifty-Shades-themed bank robber.
What is my life right now?
“Dante. Don’t fuck him.”
Taylor finishes checking herself in the floor-length mirror of the sumptuous blood red and gold private dressing room. We’re both dressed similarly, in what I would considerscandalouslyrevealing black cocktail dresses. But Taylor’s assured me—or maybe it was more of a warning—that what we’re wearing is downright conservative compared to what we’ll see once we step out of the private room and dive into the belly of the beast that is Club Venom.
Given that Club Venom is an actual, honest-to-Godsex club, and she’s a member, I’m inclined to believe her.
The difference between us is, Taylor seems to be completely comfortable walking into New York City’s most infamous private playground for the dark and deviant. A place where the rich, powerful, and dangerous come to play.
Meanwhile, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a skyscraper, about to try BASE jumping for the first time. Blindfolded.
My pulse hums in my veins. My mouth feels dry. Sweat slicks the small of my back.
“Elsa.”
I flinch, realizing I’ve been staring wide-eyed at my reflection in the mirror. My gaze flicks over to Taylor to find her smiling.
“Hey, I’m just kidding.” Her brows knit. “Probably. It’s just that Dante has a certain…reputation, as you might be able to guess.”
“One that I’m sure has nothing to do with his reputed mafia connections, wealth, good looks, and the fact that he owns this place.”
Taylor grins, taking a sip of the champagne that the staff opened for us when we were ushered in here to get ready.
“Ah, now there’s the sharp legal mind I hired you for.”
I grin back, taking a bigger gulp of my own champagne than perhaps I should. But it calms my jangling nerves, at least a little.
“To be clear, I don’t actually think you’d screw a potential client, Elsa. I just want you to be prepared. He’s a bit of a charmer…” she frowns. “Okay, he’sa lotof a charmer. And given that he’s…”
“Outrageously good-looking?”
She chuckles, but even though she turns away, I can spot the slight hint of pink in her cheeks creeping down from under the mask.
I like having Taylor as my new boss. Or at least, as one of mythreenew bosses, as of ten months ago when I took the plunge and moved across the pond from London to New York for theinsanelycoveted partner position at Crown and Black.
Taylor Crown is the “Crown” in the wildly prestigious New York City law firm, and the “Black” is actually two brothers—Alistair and Gabriel. They’re both great, too. But it’s Taylor who’s really taken me under her wing.
We’re here tonight for our first official sit-down with Dante Sartorre, the majority owner of Club Venom and Crown and Black’s newest potential client. It’s not lost on me that two women in slinky black cocktail dresses with plunging necklines suit Dante’s playboy reputation atbitbetter than, say, Gabriel or Alistair—or any other man, for that matter. But that’s the game, and I understand completely.
It doesn’t make me any less freaked the fuck out to walk out there, though.
The nerves, though, aren’tjustbecause Club Venom is a kink club catering mostly to New York City’s dark, dangerous, and powerful. They’re notjustbecause I fully understand that Taylor choosing me to come with her tonight is a big deal, and I want to impress her.
The nerves are because I’m not merely here for work.
I’m also here on a mission. But I’m the only one who knows that.
