Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
I paused, realizing just how much I was talking. That was not me. There was no urge to share with my male partners, or even my female friends. I didn’t like to be known. The two people closest to me didn’t even know this past existed. That this version of me existed.
People shared far too much about themselves, thinking that strangers cared. Like the woman in line at the DMV telling me about her husband leaving her and why it was the best thing that ever happened to her. Or the man sitting next to me on the flight informing me he was going to quit his job because he hated his boss and needed to do something with his life before he died.
Not to mention the boyfriends spouting off about how impressive their lives were with self-satisfied smiles. Women did the same thing to partners. I could not imagine this powerful, obviously wealthy and certainly dangerous man wanted to know all the details of my sordid past.
“Keep going, Sienna,” he commanded.
I’d told him my name at some point. I couldn’t remember when. He’d demanded it and I’d given it willingly. I hadn’t asked for his. I didn’t have the strength. Or maybe I wanted to keep him a stranger.
My stomach dipped at the order, his deep, throaty voice. He was hard again. This was turning him on. Hearing about my sins. My depravity.
“I moved away because I was desperate to escape the town, being one missed paycheck away from poverty,” I said, my voice rough and low. “I wanted money, it was that simple. People who talk about money not buying happiness are always born rich. Money buys everything. Safety. Sustenance. Shelter. Those are all things we need to be happy. And anyway, I wasn’t chasing happiness. I was chasing something else.”
I raked a hand through my disheveled hair.
“When I moved to the city, I found the club. The Emporium.”
I waited to see if he would say anything, recognize the name. I thought about the violet-hued light, the thick carpeting and velvet furniture. The darkly-papered walls to give it a hushed feeling like the padded rooms of an asylum. It was located in Desolation, a playground of the rich, the dangerous. Surely this man would be familiar. He stayed silent.
I took a breath. “It wasn’t a sex club, though that’s what the puritan public would’ve seen it as. It was so much more than that. It was class and corruption. It was depravity handed to you on a silver platter, with caviar and Dom Perignon.” I sucked in a breath. “It was high end. Really fucking high end. It catered to the richest men in the city. The most fucked up.”
I paused, considering this man in the darkness.
“I’m surprised I didn’t encounter you,” I said.
His arms tightened around me. “I fuck dirty, Sienna,” he murmured. “I am the most depraved motherfucker you’ll ever meet. Which is why you’ll never find me in a place like that.” He reached up to brush a hair from my face. It was damp with sweat. “Those places are like big game hunting for rich assholes. They go to feel powerful. Evil. But really they’re safe. There’s an out. There are people to protect them.” His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “I don’t need to be in a fucking zoo, Sienna.”
My heart thrummed with the truth in his words.
No, this man would never fit in the cultured, curated environment. He was a true predator. He’d eat everyone alive.
“Tell me about the club, Sienna,” he prompted after I’d been silent for a while.
I jerked. Not just at the smooth, masculine tone of his voice but at the words themselves. He wanted me to keep talking. Wanted to know more. It didn’t seem as if he was going to kick me out of his bed now he was done with me.
I swallowed, weighing the decision of leaving. Of cutting this off now. I’d given him enough. More than enough. More than I’d given anyone. The safest move would be to get out of his bed and leave this entire night in my memories, where I’d revisit, ponder at that time I came so close to absolute ruin. Because to me, ruin was a man knowing me.
Truly knowing me.
It was giving them true power, not the power they deluded themselves into thinking they had.
I’d never given a man that power.
“It wasn’t prostitution,” I said, my lips smacking ever so slightly as I spoke. “The club paid me a salary whether or not I fucked anyone. I didn’t have to fuck anyone to do my job well.”
I shifted slightly in the bed. Or at least I tried to. His arms were around me too tight and he didn’t even loosen his grip as I squirmed. I liked the fear that awakened in me.