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“Would this be the time to ask for a raise?”
Michel poured two shots of the ice-cold liquid and handed one to Jason. “If you hadn’t just received one last month, then yes. As it is, be kind to me. I’ve apparently thrown in my lot with the devil’s daughter.”
Jason studied his face. “You know, I never realized how much her eyes look like yours. Not the color this time, but the shape. Are you sure Valentina isn’t your daughter too?”
Michel spit out half a mouthful of vodka. “You’re not funny.”
“I thought it was funny.”
“God forbid I would ever create such a contrary creature.” He stared down into his glass. “Audacious little bitch.”
Jason blinked at him once. Twice. “You want her, don’t you?”
Michel took another drink, letting the liquor sit on his tongue while he weighed his friend’s question. “Perhaps.” He shook his head with a resigned air. “But I won’t have her. My life is complicated enough. Do you think she’d want the kind of control I like to exert?”
“No. Although I think she needs it.”
Michel bit his tongue, not trusting himself to speak.
“She’s been asking about the private rooms at the Citadel,” Jason persisted. “Are you going to let her back there?”
“God forbid,” he said, crossing to put his glass on the desk.
“You won’t be able to keep her out forever. Are you prepared for what happens then?”
Michel sank down in his chair, staring at the polished desktop. “You ask too many questions. You always have. She goes to the Citadel now, eh?”
“Almost every day. And Jesus, she’s something. She would be something to play with. Just saying.”
“Fire,” Michel replied shortly. “She would be like playing with fire.”
Unfortunately, he already felt singed.
“Speaking of the Citadel,” said Jason, “Sara and I are planning to go next Saturday. If you want to...you know...not go that night. And the week after that, we’re meeting friends there Wednesday and Friday, and we’ll probably go Saturday since Theo and Kelsey will be in town.”
Despite his desire to know nothing about his daughter’s sex life, Michel had come to realize that Theo, Kelsey, Jason, and Sara were very likely a swinging quad. His lips tightened. “You and Sara stay very busy these days.”
“She enjoys it,” said Jason. “Do you want me to keep her away?”
“It’s either that, or I’m barred from my own club.” He said it with humor, but he felt prickly. What had become of his control? Since Sara, and now Valentina, he found his life taking twists and turns he hadn’t foreseen.
“This is what happens when you bring your secret daughter to Paris after twenty-two years,” said Jason. “She probably got her kinky genes from you.”
“I’d prefer not to think about that.” He rubbed his eyes, then drained the last of his drink. “But I suppose I owe the two of you some space. I’m happy that she’s happy. That you’re happy.”
“And you’re happy,” Jason pointed out.
Yes, Michel was happy to have gained a daughter, but with her as part of the community, he didn’t feel as much at ease in his carnal pursuits. He was famous for his dreaded back room, his carefully selected slaves, his depravity. All of it was legend. All of it was widely discussed, and until now, it hadn’t mattered. He looked sideways at Jason. “Does it bother Sara that I’m so...public in my play?”
“I don’t know,” Jason said, but he knew the man was hedging. Of course it bothered her. Now they were scheduling their nights at the Citadel to avoid running into him.
“Maybe it’s time I retired from the back rooms,” Michel said, trying to sound as if it were no great thing. “Retired from the Citadel altogether.”
“You don’t have to do that. We can work things out.”
“I’m a father now, you remember. My daughter’s happiness is more important than mine.”
Jason scrutinized him. How annoying, this grim-faced concern. Michel could play the martyr if he wished. He truly valued Sara’s happiness over his own. His paternal devotion had surprised no one more than himself, but it would mean changes. Sacrifices.
“Just warn me whenever you and Sara will be at the Citadel,” Michel said, turning away in dismissal. He needed some time alone.
“What about Valentina?” Jason asked.
“What about her? Find the men she needs for her act. Men of strong constitution, without girlfriends or wives. Work up something new, something more practical, and let me see the preliminaries in a few weeks. I trust you, you’re an excellent director.” As an afterthought, he added, “If possible, keep her out of my hair.”
“And the back rooms?”
Michel tried hard not to imagine Valentina in cuffs and chains, begging for his mercy. “If she likes she can visit the other back rooms, but I’m not inviting her into mine.”
Jason hesitated at the door. “Is she worth all this, Michel?”
All this. The risk to the performers she worked with? To poor Adei, who still pined for her? Or did Jason speak of the danger to him, the danger to his sanity? The risk that he’d pursue her against all caution and reason, enveloping both of them in flames?
“I don’t know,” Michel said. “I’m not sure if she’s worth it. It’s too early to say.”
Chapter Four: Suffering
Michel should have returned to Brussels that evening rather than stay in Paris. He should have, but he did not. He most certainly should not have decided to make an appearance at the Citadel just after one in the morning, not in his present mood.
The erotic playspace was his creation, his escape, his legacy, and his joy. He’d wanted to take fantasy and decadence and make it real. With the circus he came close. With the Citadel, he hit the mark square in the center. For years now, he had scened and fucked alongside his more adventurous employees, taken the most tantalizing ones under his wing when it amused him and played with them until he grew tired of them. He favored boys for sadism and girls for sex. It was strenuous work, being one of his pets. He was sorely tempted to make a pet of Valentina. She fit his prototype: beautiful, reckless, and utterly uninhibited.
No, Michel. Think. It would not be wise.
Even in the darkness of the club, through the smoke and noise, he could pick out La Vampa from his vantage point near the bar. She wore a black push-up bra and a matching garter skirt and stockings, her red hair pulled back in a careless twist as she danced, grinding her hips against a female friend. She was normally pale but the club’s lights made her look even paler. She looked like an otherworldly creature brought to life.
He turned away, scolding himself for his fanciful musings. He needed sex, that was all. Sex to soothe and distract him, and fortify him for the near future when his daughter’s presence would force him to leave these games behind.
His St. Petersburg boys were there, fine, blond, strong Russian submissives waiting to be beckoned. They could satisfy him expertly, take his full length down their throats and then prostrate themselves for his whip or flogger. They lived for pain, for subjugation. Unfortunately, he was in too unusual a mood to risk playing with them. His eyes roved, weighing his options. There were three or four women he could take to the back room, even a lesbian couple who enjoyed submitting to him together.
He could take Valentina, if he wished.
That was the worst part...he could do it. She wanted him, and Jason wasn’t here to stop him. There was no one to guilt him or hold him accountable. He could take her back and play with her, and discover just how she felt about his stringent brand of mastery. As he stared at her, thinking dark thoughts, he realized his two blond slaves had worked themselves across the room to her vicinity. He frowned as Maxim and Leonid started to flirt with her. The two of them had less-than-zero interest in women, but they would have noticed their Master’s interest in her.
He disliked acts of initiative in his slaves.
He orde
red another drink and watched the three of them dance together. He’d been distancing himself from his Russian slaves lately. Were they trying to attract him again by seducing his newest obsession? Were they being petty and flagrant in order to get his attention? Were they acting out in hopes of being punished? Valentina allowed them to fawn all over her, a blissful smile on her face. He couldn’t blame her for enjoying their attentions. Both men were extremely skilled with their hands. He could tell she didn’t know who they were or the significance of their horny little tryst in the center of the dance floor, but others did. Furtive glances fixed on him, then flitted away.
Very well. She ought to know who she was dealing with. He finished his drink and beckoned his slaves to head for the back room, knowing Valentina would follow. If Jason were here, he would have run over and dragged her out of the Citadel by her ear. But Michel had no intention of playing with the young woman, only letting her watch. Surely that would cause no harm, and hopefully it would strike some healthy fear into her soul. Fear of him.
Soon the four of them were gathered in the small anteroom outside his private dungeon. He gave her a look both fond and reproachful.
