Inside, the space is nothing like the industrial exterior. Chandeliers hang from exposed steel beams, casting a dim glow over marble floors and leather seating. Maybe this is a club after all…
A masked woman stands by the elevator, pressing a button without speaking. Wesley places a hand on the small of my back and guides me inside like we’ve done this before.
I really don’t like this man touching me.
When the elevator glides open, we step into a large hallway pulsing with distant bass and the hum of decadence. A few stepsahead, two masked men in black suits stand at a pair of double doors. Their eyes flick over us before one of them gives a subtle nod and allows us to whatever waits inside.
As my eyes adjust to the dim red-washed room, the low, sultry throb of music pulses through the air. Bodies move together on the dance floor, hands roaming, clothes slipping, mouths crashing. Some of them are already half naked, tangled in each other like this is foreplay for something more.
I stop cold, my stomach flipping.
“What the hell is this place?” I spin toward Wesley. “You’d better tell me now or I’m out.”
He laughs. “Suit yourself. But from what I hear, you and your family need me.”
He’s right; there aren’t any other investors knocking on the door. But we don’t need him that much.
I grit my teeth, spine stiffening. “Let’s just find somewhere to talk business, and then I’m leaving. And for the record? Dragging me to some seedy club? Not exactly professional.”
He scoffs. “You’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you?”
My expression sharpens, pure venom bleeding into every syllable. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, Ms. Clark. Lighten up.” He reaches for me like we’re old friends, his hand sliding around my waist and pulling me close like he has any right.
I shove him off without hesitation, but he only chuckles, shaking his head like I’m a cute little thing throwing a tantrum.
Every inch of me screams to leave. But I follow him as he walks a few steps ahead, needing to get this over with. I don’t want this son of a bitch to think he’s intimidating me.
As we make our way down the hallway, I can’t help peeking into the open rooms lining the walls. At first, it doesn’t register what these rooms are. Then the truth lands like a punch to the throat.
And suddenly the club doesn’t feel like a party. It feels like a trap.
Ropes swing from the ceiling. Leather cuffs dangle like ornaments. Sex, skin…so much fucking skin. Bodies grinding in sync, gasps and moans bouncing off the walls.
Bile creeps up my throat.
Oh my God.
“You’re disgusting.” I step back. “I’m leaving. And if you think there’s still a deal, you can shove it up your?—”
Wesley’s smile morphs into something jagged and feral. Before I can take another step, his hand snaps out and clamps around my wrist, his fingers pinching tight against my skin until I wince.
“Let go of me.” I yank against his hold.
But he doesn’t. Instead, his face darkens, all charm gone, replaced by something twisted and unhinged.
“Do you have any idea how much I paid to get you here tonight?” He shoves me forward until my back slams into the wall.
I flinch, the air knocked from my lungs.
“Too much,” he sneers, his face inches from mine. “More than you’re worth. So if you won’t give me what I want…” His hand creeps down my chest. “I’ll just take it.”
Anger crackles beneath my skin, burning through the fear. My pulse hammers, vision narrowing to a single, violent solution.
He has five seconds before I knee him so hard in the balls, he won’t be walking straight for a month.
“Get your fucking hands off me!” I lift my knee, ready to end this, but I don’t get the chance.
