He’s not the only one that’s turned on; I look down and see the woman’s bare pussy glistening with moisture, begging for release. I lift my eyes to hers, covered behind her mask, and see the plea in them. I move closer, my cock at her entry, and plunge into her so hard that her breath catches.
The man loses hold of her foot momentarily, then grabs at it again and hungrily starts to devour her, matching my wild thrusts as I push in and out of her. I pump and thrust into her viciously, my hand moving between us until I have a thumb pressing down on her clit. It’s enough to get her screaming asshe reaches her high. I keep my eyes glued to hers as I push my final thrusts into her, then remove my cock and rip the condom off. I grab a hold of my cock and turn it in the direction of the man, who’s still sucking the woman’s toes, then explode all over his head and his back.
The man rears back and roars in anger, his face turning red as he looks up at me from beneath his mask. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. I tuck my cock back into my pants and zip up as he starts to rise to his feet. Pressing a hand to his shoulder, I force him back down to the ground, and he falls flat on his naked ass, his deflating cock slapping against his skin.
I crouch down beside him, getting up in his face, my eyes hard as I look at him. I’m already at an advantage in my suit, and I watch as he continues to blabber on about how he’s going to get my membership from the club revoked.
“You’ll shut your filthy mouth,” I say. My voice is low and calm, and I know it sounds more terrifying than if I had screamed.
He squirms and curls, his words spilling faster now, trying to bargain with the one thing money can’t always buy — power. He threatens he’ll go to management, that they’ll pull my chip, and the club will blacklist me.
I laugh, soft and cold. “You’ll do no such thing.” I tap the edge of my membership chip in my pocket. “Because I own the damn fucking place.”
His eyes widen when I draw the knife from my shoulder holster and hold it up so the light skates over the edge. The metal sings. That sound makes him swallow hard.
“What do… do you want?” he stammers. For the first time, the mask slips and he sees I’m not part of the entertainment.
I tilt my head. “What do you think someone like me wants fromsomeone like you?”
He chews the words he can’t say. He knows he’s lost controlof the room. He’s not stupid enough to say the wrong thing aloud. Still, his mouth works, searching for a bargain that won’t help him.
I let the knife hang loose against my knee, a threat that doesn’t have to do much work. I inch closer until the hum of the club is a muffled thing behind the glass.
“I thought my little gift to you,” I say, and I nod toward the semen that drips from his hair “was poetic. I spat on you the same way you trample on little boys.”
His face goes slack with recognition. The air in the room shifts. He knows, then — the secret that’s been hidden behind clean shirts and polite smiles. The thing he’s kept buried has found the light.
He starts to babble. Denials. Lies. He tries to buy time with excuses and connections. But none of it matters, because time is a debt collector I don’t negotiate with.
I grab a handful of his hair and force him to look at me. His voice cracks into a whine. I lift the knife and press the tip to the side of his neck, noting the throbbing pulse beneath the skin.
“Please… please… wai?—”
I slide the blade in, slow enough that the room remembers each small sound. He chokes and gurgles. Then the world goes still. His body jerks once and collapses, the fight leaving him like a debt paid on a closed account.
When it’s done, I step back and let him fall. The redhead’s eyes meet mine. She’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed. I move to her quickly, and my hands find the knots and ease them away. She rubs her wrist where the cord left a line, and she flexes her fingers like a promise.
“Make sure he gets an acid bath,” I deadpan, cold. “My DNA’s on that.”
She nods once, a small, steady motion. She knows how thisworld works. She knows how to finish a task without asking. She reaches for her phone, already moving.
I look at the man on the floor and feel nothing. He was a predator. And he deserved what he got.
I hitch my coat and head for the door like I was never part of the scene. The amphitheater lights wash over my face as I step back into the main hall, and the roar of the crowd closes around me, swallowing everything whole.
Business waits.
Tonight delivered the reckoning I came for. The rest will be handled the way the world always handles its worst—quietly, brutally, without witnesses.
And the part of me that never sleeps?
It’s well and truly fed.
2
ROWAN
Idon’t unpack. There’s no need.
