Page 4 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

“Another full house,” Hunter remarks as he steps beside me. He sips from a bottle of water. “I’m seeing a lot of new faces.”

Most of the crowdisnew, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling restless. “It’s good,” I say, “but these folks might not know our protocols.”

Hunter gives a short nod. “Yep. We’ve got a fresh stack of liability waivers, plus the security team has been briefed. Nadine is handling the guest list, and Vivian’s going to do a second pass once the place hits capacity.”

Vivian Todd is our manager—practically the heartbeat of this operation. She’s in her mid-forties like me, has a keen eye for detail, and can herd rowdy guests better than any bouncer I’ve met. Vivian is a no-nonsense, no-bullshit kind of woman who leaves no room for lip. She’s the one we trust to run Sins when we’re away.

I’d never cross her, and I’m her boss. More than that, she’s one of an elite club—the few women around here we’ve never touched and never will touch. One time, I asked Hunter if he was into her, seeing as he’s the biggest flirt among us. I might as well have asked him to punch a beehive by the look he gave me. His exact words were, “I like my balls exactly where they are.”

I straighten up, eyes focusing on details in the crowd. A pair of girls—twins?—flank a man in a leather business suit, each of them vying for his attention over the other. In the far corner, a woman is strapped to a St. Andrew’s cross and being flogged to within an inch of her life. Then, there are the caged. Chained and tormented, each with their safeword printed on all four sides of their cages, to let all the random players know when to call it quits. Their monitor, Everly, keeps a close watch on them to ensure all protocols are followed.

For a kink club, Sins is the safest spot in town.

I grunt. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Fourth of July weekend is coming fast,” Hunter says, switching topics. “You set on leaving her in charge while we’re out of town?”

“I trust her to handle it. We’ve got other business to attend to.” Not to mention, we occasionally like to see our family during the holidays—or at least, the ones we actuallywantto see.

Hunter taps his bottle against the railing absently. “You heard from Theo?”

“He’s in the back office going over our expansion numbers. Something about the new spot in Manhattan.” I roll my shoulders, trying to ease the tension there. “I’ll check in with him before we head out.”

Hunter turns to go, but he pauses, eyeing me carefully. “Don’t look so grim. I know you love this place, even if you’re too stoic to show it.”

“I’m not grim or stoic. Just thinking.”

He heads downstairs to circulate, leaving me to my own thoughts again. From where I stand, the music is slightly muted, but I can still feel the bass pulsing in my gut. Not enough to get me onto the floor, but enough to keep my gaze moving.

There’s a scene going on in one corner—an elegant domme teaching her partner how to wield a flogger with precision. I watch for a moment, verifying that everything is safe and consensual, and then I move on.

I notice a familiar submissive near the bar, a petite woman in a sparkly bustier who’s been making eyes at me for weeks now. I can’t remember her name—Sasha, maybe? Or Samantha?—but I do recall that last time we spoke, she expressed an interest in playing with me.

She’s sweet, but as she approaches, I know I’m going to turn her down. Not out of rudeness, but because I’m…well, bored. Sounds harsh, but I can’t lie to myself. For the past few months, every flirtation, every potential new scene partner, feels too familiar. The same lines, the same angles.

I’m seeking somethingmore.

She comes closer, then notices I’m perched above the dance floor. With a small smile, she slips behind the rope barrier and climbs the staircase that leads to the balcony’s open lounge area. Security won’t stop her because she’s a regular member, and this lounge is open to those who know how to behave. Whenshe finally reaches me, she bats her eyelashes, chest rising and falling as if she’s trying to catch her breath.

“Evening, Gage,” she purrs. “Another busy night, huh?”

I nod politely. “It is. Good to see you.”

“I was wondering if you wanted a drink?” She tilts her head, letting a strand of hair fall over her shoulder.

“No, thanks. I’m on the clock,” I say, though that’s only half-true. I could have a drink if I wanted—Hunter does, sometimes. But I rarely partake while overseeing the club.

She cocks her hip to the side, resting a hand there. I see the flirtation in her eyes, the invitation. She steps closer, places her fingers lightly on my forearm. “Would you like to…play tonight?”

“No. Thank you, though.”

Her lips part, disappointment flickering across her face. “Maybe another time.”

“I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for out there.” I jut my chin toward the floor.

She nods and retreats, not too crestfallen, but obviously not thrilled either. A twinge of guilt pinches my chest. It’s not her. It’s me.

I want to show someone the ropes—someone new.