Page 12 of Taint My Soul

Poker rooms. Drug rings. Private suites. A strip club.

I move through the hallway, watching bodies writhe in a haze of sex and sweat through the high rise. I hit the button once I reach the end, and the door cladding opens into the enclosed space.

Sighing, I step in, and the machine whirs as it rises to the top suite of the building.

The place I paid for.

As the elevator stops, I step into the hall, where a VIP raised deck overlooks everything. I smile at the dark-haired lady in an all-blue suit sitting behind the counter. She nods only once as I head into the suite.

I shut the door behind me and take off my long tailcoat jacket, draping it on the chaise lounge as I scan the room.

Empty.

Where the hell is he?

He’s never late. He never misses a day. He knows the consequences if he does, so why isn’t he here?

As the door clicks behind me, my hand moves on instinct, resting on my gun holster. I turn on my heels and meet the middle-aged, voluptuous woman in charge of the private suites and strip club.

Madame.

She has a full-face makeup glam with dark purple hair that cascades down her back. Her lips lift in a small smile, but I don’t entertain her antics.

“Where is he?” I lift my hand from the gun. I pull off my suspenders, and it hangs off my waist.

She clears her throat and looks at me. “He quit. He left the city…”

“Quit? Did you not pay him well? Did he not like our arrangement?”

“I’m not sure, sir,” Madame whispers. “I don’t know why he’s disappeared, but do not worry. We have someone new.”

“Someone new?” The thought of someone different from the guy I have been fucking for the past three months walking through those dark wood doors unnerved me.

“I inspected him personally, and he’ll be up here for you soon.”

“Has he signed the NDA? Gotten all required tests?”

“Yes, he’s negative, compatible and…” her voice slows. “Submissive.”

Something in me swells and pops into warmth.

A body to control. To consume. To praise and degrade.

My rule is simple. Any whore that my dick fucks will sign a non-disclosure agreement. If he breaches the contract by whispering what happens in this room, I’d simply take the law into my hands as stated in the form and blow his brains out.

“Good.” I turn away from her and walk to the side table, which has a display of expensive, strong drinks, filling an empty glass whilst she leaves the room. I take a swig and look through the dark glass windows that frame the city.

After a while, the door unlocks behind me, and I look over my shoulder just as a young man with an athletic build walks into the space.

He wears a black mask that covers part of his face, revealing the brown highlights in his irises.

The moment our eyes meet, something in me comes to life. I drink in the sight of him with a hunger that doesn’t feel like desire, but recognition.

It’s ethereal and…

It scares me.

I don’t do feelings. I never have. And this man right here won’t make me change my rules. I won’t let him.