“Care to join us?” Archer asked.
“Beautiful,” a man next to him remarked, nodding at me.
“Thanks, but I’ll leave you to it,” I said slowly, my voice coming out smaller than I intended.
Eyes bored into my exposed skin, and for the first time since I’d entered the mansion, I didn’t feel entirely safe. The energy here was in sharp contrast to the kinky exploration happening upstairs.
“Let’s talk later, okay?” Archer said as I backed up. His grin was as cocky as the other men’s, hunger burning in his eyes.
I nodded with a forced smile. Right before I turned, the dildo fell onto the table, lightly buzzing. The hogtied woman made a defeated sound into the apple.
I didn’t stick around to see what happened next.
I was dizzy and overstimulated by the time I’d found a quiet alcove in a dark, quiet living room. As I entered, a plainly dressed attendant whispered to me that this room was off-limits for play, which was fine by me. In fact, it was ideal.
A hand encircled my wrist.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Maisy whispered.
How the hell did she always manage to find me when I most desperately needed a break?
“Are you still looking for that friend you were telling me about?” she asked.
I paused, assessing her features. “Yeah. I was hoping to see her here,” I said, praying Maisy was asking because she had a lead.
Maisy nodded. “But you haven’t yet?”
I shook my head. We sat down on one of the couches, and I gratefully took water from one of the servers. I thanked her before turning back to Maisy.
“Everyone’s here. But I heard that some people don’t leave the VIP area, so it’s possible she’s there,” she explained.
“And how does one get into the VIP area?” I asked warily.
Maisy smiled, reveling in all her dutifully acquired inner circle knowledge. “You have to be one of the Golden Circle members. It’s a six-hundred-thousand-dollar-a-year membership.”
“A fuckingwhatnow?”
She laughed. “I guess you don’t know about the Platinum tier either.”
“I don’t want to know.”
Maisy’s eyes flashed with irritation, like I wasn’t reacting with the giddy enthusiasm she’d been hoping for.
These displays of wealth didn’t impress me. They made me rather ill.
“What’s the bottom tier?” I asked, now thinking of Wes. I bet hehatedgiving money to these people.
“Fifteen thousand per party,” Maisy said with a disinterested shrug, as if that wasn’t lifechanging money for most people.
“Let me get this straight,” I said in horror. “Everyone paid at least fifteen thousand US dollars to be in this mansion tonight?”
“Well, obviously noteveryone. Plus ones who have ascended are free to come, as well as chosen members like you and me.”
“The entertainment,” I elaborated. “Attractive young people who don’t have that kind of money.”
Maisy bristled. “No,” she said haughtily. “People whodeserveto be here, because they’ve freed themselves of their basic fears and have stepped into their authentic selves. People who want to actuallylive. To find the sacred in the sensual and transcend.Everything costs money, Nova. We wouldn’t be able to offer the experiences we do if we didn’t have generous donors.”
Had Maisy forgotten she’d only become awelike two weeks ago? That she’d been strung along for months before that?
