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Prologue
Anton’s Grace is adark romance. This book contains explicit sexual brutality, dubious consent, and graphic violence thatwillbe disturbing to some people. If you are a sensitive reader then this book is NOT for you.
Chapter 1
Grace
My mouth was dry, and my heart hammered as I walked up to the sleek reception desk of the Venus Hive headquarters. From the moment I began a serious singing career, I dreamt of entering these walls where the most influential man in the entertainment industry reigned. However, I never imagined it would be to come begging for a handout.
When Marcus and I first arrived on the Venus Hive space station a couple of weeks ago, I believed we had finally hit the big time. The station could hold a city of six million people. Although labeled a pleasure barge, it exclusively catered to entertainment in all its forms. From tribal dance shows to classic or popular concerts, exotic animal racing to casinos, dance clubs to fetish clubs and everything else in-between, Venus Hive had it all. It didn’t matter which alien species you belonged to, you were guaranteed to find something entertaining – and I intended to be part of that entertainment. With Marcus as my charismatic agent, we were bound to move in no time from the Commons into the VIP area.
Then things went south.
An attractive redhead sat at the reception desk; her attention focused on her computer. I cast a nervous look at the sexy, but tasteful art pieces covering the white walls. Most of them depicted dancing babes in lingerie or couples of all pairings locked in steamy embraces. I wasn’t much into BDSM but one picture of a beautiful naked male being flogged by his gorgeous Domme was especially striking. The artist captured the perfect mix of pain and pleasure on the man’s face, as well as his trustful submission to his powerful Domme.
My footsteps were drowned out by the chatter of a small crowd gathered in the hall. Their numbered badges and constant fidgeting indicated they were here to audition. As though sensing my approach, the redhead looked up and greeted me with a polite smile. I wiped my sweaty palms on the colorful print of my dress.
“Welcome to Venus Hive. How may I help you?”
“I–I wish to see Mr. Anton Myers, please,” I said, cursing my trembling voice.
“Do you have an appointment, Miss…?”
“Hopper… Grace Hopper,” I said. “And no… I’m afraid I don’t have an appointment, but it’s quite important.”
She blinked, her smile becoming strained. “I see. If you’re looking for work or wish to audition, please fill a form at one of the terminals over there and—”
“I’m not here for a gig,” I interrupted, trying not to sound rude. I glanced at the holographic nameplate on the desk which read ‘Dana Brooks.’ “Look, Dana… I know you probably get a hundred freaks in here every day wanting a piece of Mr. Myers. I promise you, that’s not my case. This is an urgent personal matter.” I leaned over the desk, pleading. “My life isliterallyin your hands right now. I only need a few minutes of his time, then I’ll leave without a fuss.”
Dana leaned back in her chair to assess me. She pursed her lips while giving me a once over. I felt happier than ever to have settled for one of my more modest outfits, consisting of a colorful sarong draped as a halter dress and medium heeled pumps. Had I worn my usual skin-tight, barely-there dresses and fuck-me shoes, Dana would have already turned me out on my ears. With a sigh, she tapped the com system and spoke into the microphone hanging beside her cheek from her earpiece.
“Mr. Myers, there’s a Grace Hopper here requesting to see you on an urgent private matter.”
I hated my last name. As an infant, my parents abandoned me at the orphanage with only Grace pinned to my clothes. Mr. Carston, the caretaker, thought it amusing to give me the last name Hopper. Then I turned twelve and Carston requesting the presence of his little Hopper took on a completely different meaning. After fleeing the orphanage, I couldn’t afford a name change. By the time I could, my name as a singer was established enough that changing it would have harmed my fledgling career more than it was worth. And so it stayed.
Dana listened quietly to Mr. Myers’ response, her gaze never leaving mine. My heart pounded into my throat while I awaited the verdict.
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, Mr. Myers.” She ended the com and straightened in her chair. “Well, it seems you have your wish, Ms. Hopper. Mr. Myers will see you immediately. Please proceed to Elevator One, and I will grant you access to the penthouse.” She gestured toward the left side of the reception desk.
Relieved, I beamed at her. “Thank you… Thank you very much, Ms. Brooks.”
Dana’s face softened as she smiled back. “Good luck, Ms. Hopper.”
I’m going to need a fuck-ton of it too.
Negotiating wasn’t my thing. I didn’t know shit about it. Contracts, management, making deals, Marcus always took care of that crap. My strength was performing. Put me on stage, tell me what kind of show you wanted, and I’d rock the house. I loved the eyes of the public on me, making them drool and go wild. That, I could handle. A ruthless business shark like Anton Myers was a completely different challenge. It scared the living daylights out of me.
I swallowed past the lump lodging in my throat every time I thought of Marcus. He was my best friend. My only friend. How could he have abandoned me like this? Nothing made sense. Without him, I felt lost. It was pathetic that at twenty-two, I should be so helpless without someone looking after me.
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on my former lover.
I followed the spotless white and chrome hallway beside the reception desk. Five elevators numbered two to eleven stood on each side of the corridor. In the center, at the end of the corridor, Elevator One, framed with luminescent tribal patterns, beckoned me. The doors opened at my approach and closed behind me as soon as I stepped inside. Without any input from me, the car ascended to the penthouse.
The doors opened onto a stern looking middle-aged man. His informally chic attire didn’t hide the muscular body underneath. Everything about him screamed former mercenary or space pirate.
“Ms. Hopper, if you would follow me,” he said, waving me in.
Without waiting for my response, he started down the hallway left of the sumptuous living area. After knocking on a closed door at the end, he opened it and walked in first.
