Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
If I’m lucky, he’ll never touch me again. Hell, that may be why he wants me to beg him for it, just so he can have the power to turn me down. It’s all mind games when it comes to a Lord. It’s only my first day of being a Lady and I’m already mentally exhausted. At least my mouth is no longer numb from the dentist and I’ve stopped drooling on myself. Now my mouth is just sore. A dull reminder that, once again, he’ll control everything I do.
I stop to see men and women running around the club with the lights on. It’s four stories tall, the apartment being the top floor. It’s got a dance floor in the middle, tables and booths line the far walls. A hallway leads to the entrance and exit where a security guy stands next to the coat check. His hands hanging on his bulletproof vest. I’ve never been here before, but I’ve heard stories of people getting shot, beaten, killed. It’s like a free-for-all. Then add alcohol and drugs to the mix, and it’s a recipe for disaster. But I expect nothing less when it comes to a Lord owning a nightclub.
Cages stand on platforms in various places on the dance floor. They’re high enough that if you got into one, you’d be able to see out over the entire club.
I look over the men and women setting up chairs and carrying trays, getting ready to open. I run my sweaty palms down my thighs. I had to put my clothes back on that I took from my luggage at the hotel after my bath. I don’t even have any makeup on right now. I don’t have mine with me. He did have a hairdryer, though, so I was able to at least dry my hair. There was also a curling iron under the sink. I don’t even want to ask who it belongs to, but I used it. Might as well look halfway decent. I understand that to make money as a cocktail server, you must look presentable.
“Laikyn?” a guy asks, stepping out from behind the main bar.
“That’s me,” I say softly.
“Follow me.” He takes me down a hallway and to a back room. It’s a locker room. Open with lockers lining each side, a bench in the middle, and a few showers against the back wall. Each one has a curtain for very little privacy. “This will be yours.” He points at a black locker that has Mrs. Crawford across the top.
I sigh. He’s going to shove it down my throat. As if I could ever forget that I was forced to marry the enemy. Like I could ignore the rock on my finger that feels like an anchor.
“Here is how to set your combination.” He holds out a folded piece of paper and I take it. “Your uniform is in the locker. And Tyson told me to tell you to see him before you start your shift. His office is on the second floor.” With that, he turns and exits, leaving me all alone.
I open the piece of paper and follow the directions on how to set the code. Once done, I open it up, and my shoulders slump when I see my uniform.
You’re a trophy, Lake. What did you expect?
I should have known I’d be dressed as the others. Not sure why I didn’t think of it before. He might as well tattoo Tyson’s slut across my ass cheeks.
FOURTEEN
TYSON
I’m sitting at my desk when a soft knock sounds on my office door. “Come in,” I call out.
I’m too busy staring at my computer to pay any attention to whoever enters. I finish typing out the email and look up when I’m met with silence to see my wife standing in my office.
Her head is down, eyes on the floor, her bleach-blond hair is curled in big waves flowing down over her shoulders, and she’s wearing her uniform. It looks like lingerie. I’ve never really paid much attention to what I have the staff wear until I see it on her.
Getting to my feet, I walk around my desk and lean back against it, arms crossed over my chest. My eyes drop to her black Vans and slowly take in the black Charmnight fishnet tights—they have rhinestones on them to shine while working under the neon lights—up to her black booty shorts that I know show off her bubble ass with a form-fitting matching leotard that has a deep V showcasing her large breasts.
Fuck, I’m hard just looking at her. I wonder if she’s still bleeding. The thought makes me smile.
“Come,” I command, and her head snaps up at my voice.
“Excuse me?” she whispers.
“Get down on your hands and knees and crawl to me,” I say, testing the waters just to see how far I can push her so soon.