CHAPTER 6

Alina's POV

What's the word you use to describe basically the world's biggest prick but without really sounding insulting?

What’s that word? Cause I was really starting to stick with bastard now, and that's no way to refer to my new boss. I mean, what if it slips through? Out of my mouth and to his face or someone else's face. Like right now. “What about that Bastard?”

“Bastard?” The receptionist turned to me, pausing. “What bastard?”

Uh oh.

“I err… nobody?” I attempted to sweep it off. Giving a slight smile. “It’s just a slip of tongue. I was referring to someone back at my office.”

 But her eyebrows knitted suspiciously. "Hmm," She didn't buy it. Obviously. Who would believe that? Here she was introducing the security at the door and a few other persons that passed by and here I was asking for a bastard. As in Roman. Her boss. My boss too.

Nothing good would come out from that reveal. Good thing she let it go though. Just silently ushering me to the dark hallway in front—My first official step into Oxygen. My first day of work.

After that stupidly annoying text that night, I'd spent literal hours upon hours, breaking into the morning and then my entire weekend. Just racking my brains on how to do this. Show up for work. Here. At Oxygen. Right now.

But then all that thought, and first thing I say to the person that let me in is ; ‘What about that Bastard?’

Just fantastic, Alina. Real fantastic.

Well, it’s welcome to work I guess.

“This is the only entry” The receptionist directed, our heels clicking the floors now as we went deeper. The dim light above us doing nothing to brighten the pathway. Or maybe it was because I'm coming  directly from the daylight outside? I dunno, either way I couldn’t see a thing asides the bobbing head of the receptionist.  So I followed quietly, up until a door opened at the from the front. A lady stepping out. “Ms. Vega!” the receptionist called out, hurrying over.

“I have your package right here. The one you talked about this morning."

Package as in me, given how they both turned around. I couldn’t properly outline the lady’s features, but at least she didn’t seem to be glaring so that’s good. “I’ll take it from here, Tara. You go on.” she said softly, and the receptionist turned back around to leave while the lady continued to another door in front.

Without a word she pushed it open, waiting for me to join her.

The moment I did, first thing that hit me was the air. The warm, perfumed air. Faintly sweet, like vanilla smoke mixed with dark spice. Then the floors, the maple floors gleaming with literal gold. Dazzling. Only when I looked up did I realize it was due to the glass ceiling above us.The lights on them, flashing like gold liquid.

“Wow, this is…

“—a lot?” The lady provided, making me face her. “It's okay, I get that a lot.”

Well, I couldn't find the word. But 'a lot' does seem to fit the description. "Hi, I’m Alina." I greeted, holding my hand out with a smile. "Alina Monroe."

"Daria Vega. But everyone calls me Ms. Vega.” she responded, taking my hands. "I'm the Floor manager, pleasure coordinator, and your temporary babysitter until you figure out where everything is.”

“Babysitter?”

“You’ll thank me later, trust me.” She winked, chuckling a bit. Up close, she looked mid-thirties. Glowing skin under the lights, round eyes and with the kind of body that just made you believe in gym memberships and good secrets. “You're the new Consultant, right?"

"Yeah, I am" I cleared my throat, straightening out. “Will be working here for the-

"Seraph Wing.” She completed, a soft smile. “You came highly recommend, so I hear. I trust this won't be difficult for you at all."

"Well, I'll try." I chuckled, shrugging. And with that she got serious, facing a corner. "Well then come on, sweetheart, let’s go! Oxygen is much prettier when she’s not asleep.”

She led to through a pair of tall glass doors that I could’ve sworn were not there initially. Her perfume carrying the air like smoke. Another corridor stretched out after the doors, but this time they were lit up. Quiet, and slightly hazy from the faint incense burning along the walls.

Some real intriguing artworks hanging too. “This is our main entry,” she said, “Clients call it the mouth of Oxygen. By the six pm, this hallway will be crawling with men and women, some women pretending they don’t want to be seen.”

She glanced back at me, “But they always do,” she winked. Making me smile, nervous ish as I adjusted my bag. The hallway wasn’t really long, so soon enough a big room unfolded in front of us like a present. Gold lights spilling over low tables, a long bar gleaming in the corner and even a stage with silk ropes hanging from the ceiling. It wasn’t sleazy at all. This was expensive. Hella expensive, and deliberate. Tempting.

“This is the main lounge,” Ms. Vega explained. “People drink here, talk, flirt, watch plays… you know. It’s like foreplay but with clothes on. Not too much clothes though.”

I stared around. Noting the mirrors and velvet couches around it,wondering just what that was about. “And at night?” I asked, “What happens at night.”

“Well,” she grinned, “Oxygen comes alive. Music. Bodies. Heat. People come here to forget who they are, just for a few hours. But you’d be surprised what that kind of forgetting is worth.”

Of course, it was petty cash. With the rumors surrounding this establishment, I’d be surprised if the fees were cheap. Don’t get me wrong, I knew what this was. It was called a lounge, the Oxygen Lounge, but anyone with enough brains could tell it was not.

Known for their exclusivity yet so popular amongst ‘high society’? They were even rumors that top officials spent several nights here. Governors, secret members of the elite society… no way fees here were cheap!

But then, only one thing can bring such persons together in a space. And that is; sex.

A real pleasure house Roman’s running here, but who was I to speak? Talks don’t pay bills.

We moved again, down another hall. The faint hum of electricity buzzing in the air, floors a gleaming red pattern similar to the gold out front and I just knew the lights on the ceilings made it worse. Then Ms. Vega stopped in front of a glass wall, overlooking an entire set of private rooms. Each had a name etched in gold— Temptation, Confession, Surrender.

“Privates suites,” She explained, voice softer now. “These are for people who’ve already made up their minds and do not wish to for anyone to watch them. They’re also private viewing rooms for people who’ve made up their minds but like to be watched. They're one way mirrors installed in the rooms, you can see but not touch. They can’t see you watching either, but know you’re there. It just adds to thrill, you know.”

Woah.

That’s… a lot. This was my first time in a somewhat pleasure house so wow.

“Everything’s based on clients terms. Signed, sealed and paid for.” I nodded vaguely, my eyes following a cleaner stepping out of one of the rooms. The door ajar, displaying a mirror over a large bed. The sheets crimson. Too red. Very much too red.

My eyebrows knitted. “You look like you’re about to run.” Ms. Vega stood beside me, following my eyes.

“Well, I… I’m just… processing.” I said honestly. It wasn’t everyday you see such things.  

“Good,” she smiled regardless, “You’re about to work here. I think I’ll be more worried if you didn’t blink at all.”

Didn’t blink? Excuse sister, this isn’t my everyday life. I’ll do more than blinking if I see more bloody red sheets in all these closed rooms lined up here. They were even more rooms without labels, who knows what happens in there too.

Still we walked away. Down another hallway, this time darker. The air heavier. Metal rails, black floors replacing previous gold and red liqid-like floors, a faint smell of leather in the air.

“This,” she said, “Is the Inferno Hall. Fetish territory. Bondage, domination, submission, the works. It’s loud, raw, sometimes brutal.”

Brutal?

My eyes fell on the rows of doors falling through to the end of the hall. “But it’s still all consent at the end. Always consent.” She said. And I nodded stiffly. Didn’t ask any questions, didn’t stare too long at more than intriguing artworks bulging from and on the walls. My heart thudding fast as we passed.

When she spoke again, her tone was lighter. “Not everything is about chains and whips, though. We’ve got the Eden Suites upstairs. This elevators leads right up there.” we stopped at it. Another set of hallway parting by the left, the elevator directly in front of us. Gold.

Hmm, I was starting to think gold was a recurrence here. Gold lights, ceilings, floors, name cards on doors despite the different hallways… guess it gave it that sophisticated, expensive look. Everything sure looked expensive I won’t lie.

“What’s the  Eden Suites for?” I asked, “I mean, we’re not going up to it since we’re facing this hallway now.”

“Oh, the Eden Suites is all soft rooms.” she said, “For couples, affairs, long-time lovers who still pretend it’s their first time. The blind room, stranger sessions… mirrors, silk sheets, bubble baths the size of jacuzzis.”

“Some of our guests even come here every weekend. Same partner, same room, but new lies.” she winked, I chuckled just imagining it all. Soon we reached the end of the hallway. The last one seemingly, with the smell of paint lingering faintly in the air. Everything looked… newer here. Unfinished, bright lights, white. Scaffolding too.

“This… is the Serepah Wing.” she addressed, presenting it with a show of hand and stepping aside for me. “The newest and where you come in, Alina Monroe.”

“Wow,” I let out a smile, looking around. It was empty. White. So damned spacious. So spacious, and stretched on several steps down to the point I couldn’t even see from the doorway. “This is huge.”

“Yes.” Ms. Vega came close. “Our biggest wing yet. A section made just for women. Women who pay, who choose, who lead! This is the boss’s new money maker, his baby if I may. And he wants it elegant, dangerous and addictive. All three things seemingly different but all in one spot, that’s your job sweetheart. Good luck, you’ll need it.”

Huh?

“That bastard really is difficult to work with?” I voiced without thinking. Cursing myself internally after, while she turned to face me fully. An interesting smile on her lips, “Bastard, huh?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“The hell you did. The energy backing the word alone…” I groaned silently, head alreay hanging helplessly. “But don’t worry,” she chuckled, “You’ve got spunk, you can handle him just fine.”

I can? She really thinks so, because I don’t.

“So!” she clapped, straightening out. “That’s a wrap for the day. We should all head home, and come back for the main show by 6. But before I go, welcome to Oxygen, Alina.”

Yeah. Real welcome.