When we first arrived, I suspected this place was a front—a cover for mafia dealings, criminal enterprises, maybe both. That might still be true, but it’s obvious now that this is also someone’s elaborate playground. A twisted funhouse for those with a taste for darkness.
A side door creaks open, drawing my attention. Aaron steps out, followed by that smug bastard from earlier—the one with too much arrogance. With his tailored suit and eyes as sharp as a blade, he’s the kind of man who thinks he owns every room he walks into. The same guy who wouldn’t be able to find the stick up his ass if he tried.
I can respect ambition, but the moment someone acts like they’re above everyone else, I lose any shred of patience. And this guy? He’s pure, unfiltered jackass.
“Everything okay?” I nod at Aaron. He nods back, calm and composed, just as he was when he walked in twenty minutes ago. I’ll take that as a good sign—for now.
“Sorry for the wait. Hopefully, you found something to keep you busy,” Suits says, smirking.
I’d love nothing more than to punch that smile right off his face.
Aaron. You’re here for your best friend, Aaron.
“No cell service and some dumb questions on a screen? So much to occupy myself with,” I mock.
Suits laughs, stepping forward and extending a hand. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Tristan.”
“Ready to go?” I ask Aaron, ignoring Suits completely and folding my arms across my chest. I don’t give a shit about this guy and his name.
Aaron looks down at his watch.
“Actually we’re just about to go have some celebratory drinks. Care to join us?” Suits offers.
I pull Aaron to the side. “Are we seriously doing this?”
“I need to see this through. I understand if you want to leave.”
I sigh. “I’m not leaving you here.”
Aaron makes a fist at his side, a telltale sign that he’s uncomfortable. He’s feeling whatever this is too.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” he says quietly.
“It’s fine. I’ve got this.” Squeezing Aaron’s shoulder, I turn to face Tristan. “I’m in. Where are we going?”
Tristan’s lips curl into a cunning smile. “Wonderful. The more the merrier,” he winks. “There is a state-of-the-art bar on the top floor of the hotel.”
“What if someone recognizes us? I would prefer to hide my identity.” I don’t trust this guy, nor the people roaming inside this creepy hotel.
“Everything here remains anonymous, but if it’ll make you feel more comfortable we can cover our faces.”
Aaron turns to me, smiling. “You like masks, right?”
I roll my eyes.
“There is also a vacant corn field at the back of the property.” Tristan says as he walks to the corner of the room and faces an empty black wall. A second later the wall begins to split in two.
“This hotel may appear abandoned, as if no one has crossed its threshold for years, but that's precisely what we want outsiders to believe. We want them to think that nothing happens behind these doors. Yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s what makes this place exclusive and mysterious. A great deal goes on here, and the activities are certainly not for the faint of heart.”
Tristan’s words hang heavy in the air as we stand before a wall of masks, each one individually illuminated from behind. The eye holes seem unnaturally large, adding to their unsettling presence, more so than if the masks were resting on a table or hidden in a box.
The masks I own, hidden away safely in a box would tell a different story. She even reminds me of my fucking mask kink.
Goddamn it.
Stop thinking about her.
My heart races, the sight of all these masks calls out to the primal beast inside me.
