Shaking off my worries, I went through my morning routine and headed back to work. As soon as I walked in the door, I could sense a strange tension in the air. The staff were whispering to each other more than usual and giving me odd looks. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable vibes, I tied on my apron and got to work, setting up for the afternoon shift.
The first few hours passed in a blur of mixing drinks and running food to tables. Business was slower than the day before, but the clientele seemed even more eccentric and unbridled in their behaviour. I felt eyes watching my every move as I served drink orders. A few men lingered too long, making inappropriate comments, when I walked by with empty dishes. I gave terse smiles and excuses to remove myself from unwanted conversations as quickly as possible.
Around 5 p.m., things began to die down in the bar area as patrons filtered off to dinner. I spotted my chance to take a quick break and slipped into the back room to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. That’s when I overheard snippets of a hushed conversation coming from the adjoining storage closet.
“I can’t believe they’re actually going through with it tonight.”
“I know, it’s insane. But you know how these big shots are; they’ll pay anything for a thrill.”
Intrigued yet worried by what I was hearing, I inched closer and cracked the door open slightly to peek inside. Two of the cocktail waitresses were hurriedly whispering and re-tying the strings on their bustier tops.
“Do you think they’ll really make us, you know?” the blonde one asked nervously.
“I hope not, but you never know with that crowd. I heard last time one of the girls quit on the spot after what they made her do. I’m just hoping I can grit my teeth and get through it for the tip money.”
My heart began to pound. What on earth were they talking about having to do? Some sort of degrading performance for these wealthy guests? A trickle of panic started to set in as I realized this was no ordinary bar and the people who frequented it were into much darker activities than simple drinking and socializing.
Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, I popped back out into the hallway and leaned against the wall, taking slow, calming breaths. I needed answers but had to approach the situation carefully. A few minutes later, the waitresses emerged from the storage closet and brushed past me with anxious eyes, obviously nervous about whatever was planned for that evening.
When things slowed down again at the bar, I sidled up to Jeremy, the bartender who had first warned me about the clientele. “Hey, I couldn’t help overhearing some of the staff talking earlier. They mentioned there was some sort of, I don’t know, auction happening tonight? Do you know what they were referring to?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casually inquisitive rather than panicked.
Jeremy glanced around warily and lowered his voice. “Look, Isadora, I meant what I said the other day. You seem like a good kid, and I’d hate to see you get mixed up in the sort of things that go on around here after hours. It’s best if you just do your job, keep your head down, and then go home at the end of your shift like nothing ever happened. Trust me.”
Frustrated with his evasiveness but knowing I wouldn’t get any straight answers from him, I sighed in resignation. “Alright, I won’t pry. But you have to admit, it’s a little unsettling not knowing what’s really happening under this roof. I just want to be able to look out for myself.”
Jeremy paused for a long moment, wrestling with how much to reveal without putting me in danger. “Fine. I’ll tell you this much: after we close, some of the VIP guests like to gamble on live performances involving the staff. Things can get pretty graphic and demeaning. Cash flows freely, so the bosses turn a blind eye as long as business is booming. My advice? Finish your bartending duties and get the hell out of here before midnight. You don’t want any part of what goes down after hours, trust me.”
I felt slightly nauseous imagining what sort of depraved acts these wealthy patrons enjoyed betting on. I knew Jeremy was right—it was best if I steered clear of the after-hours activities for my own safety and sanity. But my innate sense of justice was also kicking in. How could they allow such dehumanizing treatment of the employees just for the sake of money and power thrills? There had to be a way to shut this disgusting operation down for good.
I finished out my shift on autopilot, wrestling with my conflicting instincts to flee the premises versus stand up to the corruption. By 11:30 p.m., the bar area was mostly cleared out as guests dispersed to secret lounges and parlors for the real festivities of the night. I glanced around furtively as I tidied the last few tables, hoping my managers were too preoccupied to notice if I lingered a little longer than planned.
Just then, two well-dressed men approached the bar carrying leather satchels bulging with cash. “Get me a bottle of Macallan and two glasses. We’ve got a big game starting in the Blue Room in fifteen minutes, and I aim to win it all tonight,” one gloated to Jeremy as he slapped a stack of hundred-dollar bills down on the bar. Intrigued, I slowly loaded dirty dishes onto my cart, pretending to eavesdrop casually while stealing glances at the exchange.
“You know the rules, Hendricks. Betting closes at midnight sharp, so get your ass in gear if you want a seat at the table. Don’t say I didn’t warn you; the stakes are higher than ever tonight. Word is, Mr. Ames just added a new prize to the pool,” the other man teased with a predatory gleam in his eye.
I felt a chill run down my spine. A new “prize” to bet on—was it referring to one of the staff being used in whatever depraved performance they had planned? I couldn’t just walk away and leave someone at the mercy of these monsters. My mind was made up—I had to find out exactly what was going on in the so-called Blue Room and get evidence to take to the police. Quietly slipping out the side exit, I texted my roommate to let her know I’d be late, took a deep breath, and headed towards the secret rooms in the east wing with determination and dread warring inside me.
The hallways were eerily silent except for occasional muted laughter and conversation drifting through closed doors. I moved stealthily, sticking to the shadows along the edges and trying each door handle carefully. The first few rooms were empty parlor lounges set up cozily with pool tables and bar areas. But as I crept farther down the corridor, muffled screams and pleads for mercy began to reverberate through the walls. My heart raced as a door at the end of the hall creaked slightly ajar, dim light and raucous male voices spilled into the hallway. Peering through the crack, what I saw made my blood run cold.
A sprawling basement room had been outfitted like a high-stakes casino and gentleman’s club rolled into one. Scantily clad cocktail waitresses fluttered about refilling champagne flutes for well-dressed guests lounging on leather sofas and ottomans. But the center of the room was taken up by an elaborate gilt cage where a young woman sobbed and cringed against the bars, naked but for a handful of strips of duct tape barely covering strategic areas. Two burly men paced the perimeter like lions, cracking bullwhips menacingly towards anyone who dared approach.
A suited host stood on a raised dais, calling out bids and gleefully taking wads of bills from enthralled onlookers. “You there in the Armani, do I hear ten thousand? Going once, going twice… SOLD to Mr. Ames for a cool one hundred thousand dollars! Now let the games begin.”
I stifled a scream, terror and revulsion coursing through my veins. I had to get help; I had to stop this depravity before it could continue any further. But as I turned to flee, my foot snagged on a loose floorboard with a resounding crack that echoed down the hall. Panicked eyes locked with mine through the gap in the cracked door. I was spotted.
As the clock ticked closer to closing time, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled deep in my stomach. The air in the club felt heavy with tension, and the whispered conversations among the staff only added to my unease. Despite my best efforts to push aside my worries and focus on my work, the nagging sense that something sinister was happening beneath the surface lingered.As the last few patrons finished their drinks and made their way out, the club’s doors were locked with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine. I exchanged uneasy glances with my coworkers, but none of us dared to voice our concerns aloud.Before I could gather my thoughts, Jeremy appeared at my side, his expression grave. “Isadora, come with me,” he said, gesturing towards a hidden passage at the back of the club. With a sinking feeling in my chest, I followed him, my heart pounding in my ears.The passage led us down a dimly lit staircase, the air growing colder and heavier with each step. M
Kian’s face hardened as he regarded the newcomer, his eyes narrowing with barely concealed hostility. “Viktor,” he greeted, his tone clipped. “I wasn’t expecting you here tonight.”The man named Viktor let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Surely you didn’t think you could keep your little… soirée hidden from me, did you?” His gaze drifted towards me, and I felt a wave of unease wash over me. “And who is this lovely creature?”Before Kian could respond, Viktor stepped forward, closing the distance between us in a few strides. I shrank back instinctively, my heart hammering in my chest as he reached out and grasped my chin, tilting my face towards his. His touch was rough, calloused, and I fought the urge to recoil.“Such beauty,” he murmured, his eyes raking over my features with a hunger that made my skin crawl. “I can see why you coveted her, Kian.”Kian bristled, his jaw clenched tightly. “She belongs to me, Viktor,” he growled, his tone laced with warni
My eyes fluttered open to the sight of an ornately carved ceiling above a plush, king-sized bed. Sunlight streamed through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm glow over the lavish bedchamber. For a moment, I was disoriented, unsure of where I was or how I’d gotten there.Then the memories of the previous night came rushing back - the masquerade ball, Viktor’s repulsive advances, the explosive altercation between him and Kian. I shuddered as I recalled the wild, possessive look in Kian’s eyes when he proclaimed I belonged to him. His searing kiss, demanding and uncompromising, raising an unsettling mix of fear and desire.“Are you outta your friggin’ mind, Kian?” A gruff voice snarled from beyond the bedroom door. “Bringing in some random piece of ass off the streets like that? For all we know she could be a fuckin’ rat planted by the Feds or one of the Dmitri’s button men!”My blood froze at the venomous accusation. I strained to make out Kian’s response through the thick oak barrier.“
The first few hours of my captivity blurred together in a haze of boredom and restlessness. With nowhere to go and nothing productive to do, the bed was now my gilded cage began to feel increasingly suffocating. “I need to get out of here, even if just for some fresh air,” I blurted one afternoon, whirling to face my ever-present chaperone. “Kyle, please, I’m going stir crazy cooped up like this.” The hulking enforcer didn’t even glance up from casually cleaning the wicked-looking pistol in his meaty hands. “Sorry, you know the boss’s rules. You don’t step one foot off this property without me or one of the other capos to keep an eye on that luscious rump.” He shot me a slow wink, his gaze roving over me with an insolent appreciation that made my skin prickle. “Don’t worry, those pretty stems of yours will get some exercise soon enough when Kian comes calling.” Heat flooded my cheeks at the rude insinuation, suddenly regretting having opened my mouth at all. I huffed and stalked a
Kian and I sat across from each other at the dining table, eating in silence. I couldn’t help stealing glances at him, taking in the bruises and cuts that marred his striking features. He seemed utterly unbothered, devouring his food with typical gusto.My eyes traced the sharp lines of his face, the sensual curves of his mouth as he ate. Despite his injuries, I found myself admiring his rugged handsomeness, my gaze lingering perhaps a little too long. He must have felt my stare because he looked up suddenly, those mercurial eyes locking with mine.“See something you like?” he rumbled, one side of his mouth quirking up.I felt heat rush to my cheeks at being caught ogling him so brazenly. “I was just wondering what happened,” I replied, trying to seem nonchalant.Kian set down his utensils and leaned back, assessing me with that intense stare. “Let’s just say there are still some…lingering threats that need handling.”Before I could ask what he meant, he continued. “Which is why your
The heavy silence hung in the air as all eyes turned to me expectantly. Kian’s mother Octavia had asked who I was in a deceptively calm tone laced with steel. I swallowed hard, feeling Kian’s intense stare boring into me from one side and his father Vincenzo’s contemptuous look from the other. I had no choice but to answer. “My name is Isadora,” I began, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “I’m a student at the local university.” Octavia scoffed loudly. “A college girl? This is who you’ve brought into our affairs?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Of all the foolish, reckless things…” Kian and I sat across the large dining table from his parents, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air. His father Vincenzo studied me with a look of disdain. “So, this is the girl you’ve brought home?” he said gruffly, eyeing my casual sundress with clear disapproval. Before I could reply, Kian spoke up. “Yes, Father. This is Isadora.” Vincenzo grunted. “I see. And what makes this one so
I stared at the ominous message on my phone, my heart pounding in my chest. ‘I’m always watching.’ Was someone spying on me? The thought sent a chill down my spine. Surely it was just a prank, right? I tried to laugh it off, but a nagging sense of unease lingered.The next day, I went to Emercyn’s apartment to gather my belongings. Kyle was told to follow me everywhere, so he trailed behind me like an unwanted shadow.As soon as Emercyn opened the door, she enveloped me in a tight hug. “Oh my god, Isadora! Are you okay? I was so worried when you didn’t come home. And why weren’t you picking your calls?!”“It’s a long story,” I sighed, stepping back. “Can we talk inside?”Once we were settled on her couch, I recounted everything - from being auctioned off to Kian, to the disastrous meeting with his terrifying parents.“They were absolutely horrible, Em,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “His father called me a whore and said my parents must have died of shame over me.”Emercyn’s ey
Kian’s movements became more frenzied, his muscles tensing as he drove into me relentlessly. I was right on the edge, that coiled knot of pleasure threatening to snap at any second.“Kian…please…I’m so close,” I panted, raking my nails down his back desperately.He growled against my neck, the sound vibrating through me deliciously. “Come for me, principessa.”That was all it took to push me over the edge into shattering ecstasy. I cried out sharply as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over me. Kian kept thrusting, prolonging my high until finally he went rigid, letting out a guttural groan as he found his own release.We clung to each other, both trembling and covered in sweat when the feeling of desire finally began to clear. I felt utterly boneles, like I could just melt into the mattress.Kian rolled onto his back, chest still heaving. I expected him to make some smug remark about thoroughly claiming what was his. But instead, he just lay there in silence, staring up at t