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“Welcome to the club, ladies. Could you please give me your invitations?” Penelope extends her hand to her, and she grips them, opening them up and typing something furiously on her keyboard.
She blinks at the desktop screen several times, and then more warmth slips into her gaze, and she picks up two menus. “Ms. Walsh, it’s a pleasure to have you here. Your table is in the VIP lounge. Please follow me.” Her green pencil dress showcases her lean figure, and her golden locks emphasize her subtle beauty, fitting organically into the luxury and prestige surrounding us.
Her beauty reminds me that Octavius is surrounded by gorgeousness all the time, so I’d never have a shot with him, even for a fling.
Heck.
A one-night stand. Whatever that moment we shared back in his office meant nothing and probably was some kind of plan of his to make me let down my guard.
Samantha saunters to the heavy double doors while Penelope and I trail her, and she whispers from the corner of my mouth, “VIP lounge?”
I explain to her, “Rebecca Cortez’s son is one of the owners.”
Penelope opens her mouth to ask more questions when Samantha pushes open the doors vibrating from the music, and instantly, the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex envelops me.
The loud music echoes through the space, accompanied by the click of shoes on the parquet as people lose themselves on the dance floor, rubbing against each other. Some even engage in heavy make-out sessions. In the corner, two men have a woman pressed against the wall as they take turns kissing her as she moans under their touch and wraps her legs around one of them. Any minute now and she’ll jump them.
Penelope’s jaw drops, almost hitting the floor, and I blink several times.
A threesome.
In the club for everyone to see, I’ve never seen someone making out with two people before, so while part of me is shocked, the other…well, is a bit curious.
Although revulsion rushes through me just imagining doing something like this with men, so no judgment, but not for me.
“Oh my God,” Penelope mutters as we continue to scan the gorgeous club more and do our best to ignore the various sex acts happening all around us. A threesome might be the most innocent thing Penelope’s eyes land on in here.
The Four Dark Horsemen are smart businessmen; vices and mysterious places always had a unique appeal to their wealthy society as getting inside such an establishment proved your status and allowed you to engage in the most lustful cravings without facing anyone’s scrutiny.
In fact, no one is allowed to take any pictures or mention who they’ve seen inside it, and the profits must have skyrocketed when they introduced this new contracted rule.
It’s true, after all.
Whatever they touch turns into gold because they have this knack for human psychology and always use it to their advantage.
The club is decorated in silver, red, and black, and the first thought that comes to my mind is the four riders of the apocalypse as they rode horses with these colors.
The myth fascinated me as a child despite my mom preferring Greek and Roman mythology—the idea of four majestic beings who would someday come to Earth to end it, but not before sending misery to all those around them.
Somehow, it fit the dark four, casting a cruel veil around them and increasing their appeal.
The bar is in the back right corner, with four bartenders busily preparing drinks for everyone while the rest of the staff easily navigate the club to the booths and tables in the left corner. They deliver orders of steaming food on porcelain dishes, the delicious smells wafting through the air and making my stomach rumble.
Each one of them wears black pants and white button-up shirts.
When it comes to furniture design, they’ve settled on round, leather couches looking comfortable enough to sit on, and there are chairs at round tables with lamps should anyone need to speak privately. Most of the people sitting at them are either making out or drunk.
Penelope steps toward the booths when Samantha’s voice stops her and gently nudges her to the left to the small stairs. “The VIP zone is on the second floor, which has several soundproof rooms. You’ll be more comfortable there.”
Nothing but the best for the Cortezes’ guests, apparently.
I stay quiet through the entire thing as we push through the sweaty bodies before going up the stairs, my eyes studying every little detail because I need to know all routes of escape. Otherwise, I’m restless in any place, let alone here, where I have zero power. Samantha continues to chat. “Twice a month, we have special dance shows. You should really come next time. I’m afraid tonight is a bit boring.”
A chuckle slips past Penelope’s lips. “Trust me, I won’t survive it getting any more interesting.” Since I won’t be allowed to enter again should everything go according to my plan, I don’t bother to reply.
Samantha grins at her as we step into a narrow hallway with about a dozen private rooms, and she swipes the card for number seven.
The interior is almost identical to the downstairs. The only difference is that the couches are black, and a private bar filled with an expensive selection of liquor is on the side.
