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And I don’t seem to mind.
62
SARAH
By the time I finish my third glass of delicious bubbly, I’m pleasantly buzzed, and not nearly as worried as I was mere hours ago when Marius revealed that my stalker could also moonlight as a serial killer—unless they only just drove their victims to suicide, which is so much better.Not.
I get why people drink. I’ve never had the luxury of letting myself enjoy a little tipsiness in the past because I needed to be aware of my surroundings, alert. But with Marius here, I’m fairly certain nothing will happen to me. Except what he does. And being buzzed for that doesn’t sound like the worst idea.
“Shall I take you home?” Marius offers.
I frown, looking at his glass. He barely touched it. “Aren’t you finishing your drink?”
“Nah, I’m driving. Besides, I like a clear head. Maybe I’ll have a drink later.”
I’m glad one of us is thinking clearly; the last thing we need is for him to drive us while floating on a cloud like I am. My eyes fall on the fancy champagne, still half full. “What about the rest of the bottle? You bought the whole thing.”
“Would you like to take it home?”
“Can we?” I sound like an alcoholic, but I just don’t like waste—even though he can afford it, the idea of leaving a drink worth I don’t know how much here doesn’t sit well with me.
“You can have anything you’d like, sweetness. One of the many upsides of being mine.”
I’m not really his and he knows it, but I don’t see the point in saying it again.
Marius does pay this time, which only serves to confuse me more about how this place works.
“So, you don’t need to pay for dinner or the spa, but you need to for drinks?”
“Hm? Oh, that was an extra tip. The staff automatically charges everything to my account, with a standard tip. The spaisan included member benefit, however.”
“And what do they charge to me?” I ask, frowning.
“I told you, you’re a petal. You don’t pay for anything. What I order for you is charged to me. If you came here alone, anything you consume would be complimentary.” He brings his arm around my shoulders and starts to lead me out.
There is no denying that most of the crowd is watching us curiously. He wasn’t lying: the rumor mill is likely to get going pretty fast, and if he does take me to meet his freaking grandma soon, no one is going to doubt that we’re a thing.
“What does that petal business entail?” I ask, looking up at him.
I’m glad he’s half holding me, because I’m not certain I’d be able to walk straight without him. I’m such a lightweight.
A smile curves up his pretty, pretty lips. “A lot of fucking, usually.”
I gasp.
“What, you’re shocked? You crashed one of our parties,” he reminds me as we walk back into the great, impressive hall. “To the world, the Heritage is a well-to-do private club with several countryside and city locations. We support the downtrodden and needy with major fundraising efforts. And all of that is true. But we always fuck. A lot.” He shrugs. “People in our positions—with our money—can’t afford to go to random clubs and fuck around the way anonymous people can. We get kidnapped for ransom, for political reasons, to destabilize our parents’ companies…and yes, sextortion is also often a thing, too. It’s useful to have somewhere we can relax safely.”
I can see that.
And they’d been safe until I showed up with hidden cameras on my clothes. God, no wonder they acted the way they did.
“So, what, I’m considered part of your club?”
“Yeah. You can come here any time, with or without me.”
“And I’d be expected to have sex with random people?” I grimace.
“Of course not.”
