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“Come on, Cade. Let’s get you on inside.”
As the women begin to reach for their phones, I allow Ford to lead me to the entryway, where he converses lowly with two burly security guards before jerking his chin to follow him inside. I nod my thanks as we enter, and I’m instantly transported to a different world.
Deep hues of green and blue lighting shift along the walls of a long entry hall. It almost gives the illusion of being under the sea. Once we round the corner at the end of the hall, a scantily clad blonde in a masquerade mask meets us, her eyes roving over both of us as a flicker of a smile crosses her lips.
“Rapture, orRisqué, gentlemen?”
I open my mouth to speak, but Ford beats me to it. “Neither. I need to see Vaughn Burton.”
She narrows her eyes minutely, her lip curling slightly in distaste before tipping her chin over her shoulder. “He’s here inRapture. Somewhere over there.”
And without further instruction, she turns and weaves her way through the crowd.
Ford turns to me, gripping my biceps with his hands. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need you to stay here. Keep to yourself, and I’ll bring him to you, okay?”
He nods once, sharply, and then, without waiting for a response, he, too, disappears through the throng of bodies.
I take a moment to absorb my surroundings as a heavy bass permeates my bones.
The entire club seems to be fully open plan, lit up in varying shades of gold and bronze. It’s decadent, but not distastefully so.
Gigantic chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling above me, giving the place an elegance I wasn’t expecting, considering the rumours surrounding Rogue.
Long gilt bars line both sides of the room, with large booths shrouded in sheer gold drapes interspersed throughout the space.
The drapes surrounding these areas are sheer enough that I can just about make out bodies on the other side of them, but can’t quite see enough to know what’s going on, which I’m sure is the entire point.
Female servers of all shapes and sizes are behind the bars and dotted throughout the club. All are easily recognisable by the black masquerade masks covering most of their faces.
My inspection of Rogue comes to an abrupt halt when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn toward the interruption, finding three women side by side. Two blondes with a brunette in the middle.
One of the blondes pops a brow as she speaks first. “You look hungry, Caden. Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.”
I glance around, noting several other groups gathering, and heave an internal sigh of annoyance before I plaster a smile on my face. It doesn’t reach my eyes, but the women don’t give a shit.
“Thanks. I always appreciate my fans, but I’m not—”
The brunette steps forward, placing a finger over my lips. “I’ll be your dessert….”
She winks saucily as her friends giggle at her audacity. I take a step back, followed by another. Before I realise what I’m doing, I veer to the left of the closest bar and duck out through a ‘Staff Only’ door into a darkened hallway beyond.
I can hear a commotion at my back, and in my rush, I don’t allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness around me. I focus entirely on moving further and further away from my pursuers.
There appears to be a mixture of open and closed doors on either side of the hallway.
But, as my eyes adapt to my new surroundings, I can make out that the open doors are actually small alcoves where couples and bystanders are engaging in openly explicit sexual acts.
It’s very similar to Valentine’s back home, though I’ve not been there in years. Except this place has a slightly more debauched edge that Valentine’s was lacking when I’d last been.
No one pays me any mind as I meander through the labyrinth of corridors, finally coming to a stop outside a black door with gilt edging. The wordRavishis lit up in gold neon lights above the frame, and when I push it to enter, I’m met with a loud beep.
I try again and again, eventually realising the beep is coming from a wall-mounted box beside the door. It appears to require a palm print to access.
Shit, shit, shit!
At a loss, I turn back in search of an alternative exit.
I don’t have to look far when a flame-haired woman in a secretary-style outfit sashays out of the wall, moving further down the corridor in the opposite direction. I take a closer look and realise it’s a hidden door flush with the wall so that, to the naked eye, at least, it’s completely invisible.
