At least it has a mouth and eyeholes, unlike the Ghostface hood I’d considered. Plus,el diablois truly fitting.
“Diablo…”
I hear it in my head now, from the silk-wrapped grunge that is his voice.
“Oh, pajarito…” I sigh to myself, sauntering inside my office, plopping down at my desk. “What ever are you doing here?”
Pulling up the security camera’s live feed, I click through until I land on the corridor where Angel and his bartender pal were. I see the bartender scurrying into the main club area and back behind the bar where he belongs. I shake my head.
Bringing a non-member into the VIP area… Who’s managing these kids?? Honestly.
I am going to have to have a chat with mi amigo, Dominic Raza. He seems to have forgotten that he’s the General Manager of a high-end club catering to elite clientele and specializing in exclusive forms ofentertainment.
Not a flippant babysitter in a nineties movie.
Quickly clicking through camera feeds, I search for him, just to see what he’s up to while he’ssupposedto be working. Sure enough, I find him in his office, sniffing lines of coke off a tray, which he then holds up for the dude who’s riding his dick.
I roll my eyes.Typical.
Yet I can’t help but linger on the kid bouncing on his lap. He works here. I’ve definitely noticed him before…
Strikingly beautiful. Black hair, perfect body, vibrant blue eyes with visible torment behind them. Just the way he’s takingDom’s cock like heneeds ittells me he’s probably a very fun fuck. Dangerous, but fun.
Like his orgasms come with a restraining order. Or a felony.
Shaking it off, I click back to the hall where I left Angel, finding him easily enough. He’s exiting the private restroom he’snotsupposed to be using because he’snota member, flitting about like the sneaky little bird he is.
Reclining in my chair, I watch curiously as he tries door after door, face tipping around in observation.Searching…
“Lost, pajarito?” I hum, biting back my smirk. Reaching out, I press my fingertip to the screen, touching his pretty face.
Or are you looking to be found?
Anxiety and self-doubt are my co-captains on this plane I’m currently piloting.
We’ve already lost both engines, and now I’m just praying for a miracle.And that when they dig up the wreckage, they don’t find the black box.
I have no clue what I’m doing. This wasn’t part of the plan, though admittedly, there wasn’t a concrete one to begin with. Still, I certainly didn’t anticipatethis… Wandering around the VIP area of Club Edge in search ofanythingthat might indicate where he went…
The man in the devil mask.
By the time I followed Jonah out of the room, he was already gone, and I had to at leastpretendI was using the restroom. Jonah went back to work, and of course I stayed behind. And now I’m just ambling about, knowing that at any moment, I could bump into a security guard—or worse, the manager—who will most definitely kick me out. And then that incredible blowjob performance will have been for naught.
Well, that’s notentirelytrue. It got me closer to him…
As close as I could get without plunging my knife into his chest.
He was standing there, staring at me for what felt like hours. Ihadhim…
Sure, I couldn’t see his face, but that doesn’t matter. Iknowit was him.
After all, he’sEl Diablo.The mysterious owner of this club, whom no one has ever seen.
Not a coincidence.
But I fucking lost him, and now I’m panicking. Even if he doesn’t know it’s me, he’s certainly suspicious. What’s to stop him from looking me up in their system? He could recognize me by the picture on my ID, then easily deduce that it’s a fake, and thereisnoLucas Hansenat 540 Atlantic Ave in Brooklyn.
I have to get him back before that happens. I refuse to squander this opportunity and let him kill me like he should have when I was three. Not when I’m this close.
