CHAPTER 2: THE MASTER OF BOOTH SEVEN

(POV: BRIANNA)

The bouncer guided me down the dimly lit corridor and stopped in front of booth seven. He unlocked the heavy wooden door, gestured for me to step inside, and locked it behind me immediately.

The sharp click of the lock echoed in the silence. It was my very first time stepping into one of those private rooms.

The space was dark, illuminated only by a faint crimson light glowing from the ceiling. The air smelled of leather, expensive cigar smoke, and a striking, intoxicating masculine cologne. In the center of the booth, sitting in a massive leather armchair, was the man who had chosen me.

His long legs were crossed, and he wore a tailored black suit. The first few buttons of his white dress shirt were undone. His face was obscured by a dark mask, revealing only his sharp, rigid jawline and a pair of pitch-black, intense eyes. Those eyes locked onto me instantly.

"Come closer, little bird," his voice echoed. It was deep, raspy, and commanding.

I took three short steps forward, my fingers gripping the silk fabric of my robe.

"Take off the robe," he commanded coldly. It wasn't a request. It was an order. "I want to see what I bought for the night."

With trembling hands, I pulled at the silk tie. The fabric slipped off my shoulders and pooled onto the floor. I stood there in nothing but my strappy lingerie and fishnet stockings. For the first time, my thick thighs, heavy breasts, and rounded belly were completely exposed.

Overwhelmed by a wave of crushing humiliation, I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to shield myself from his gaze.

I heard the leather of the armchair creak as the man rose slowly. He was massive, standing at nearly six-foot-five. He walked toward me with calm, predatory steps, stopping just inches away. The sheer heat radiating from his body sent a violent shiver down my spine.

He reached out a large hand, gripping my jaw firmly and tilting my head up.

"Look at me when I speak to you," he whispered, his voice dripping with pure possessiveness. His eyes traveled slowly down my body. "Who told you to be ashamed of this body? You are absolutely delicious, little bird."

My entire body burned hot at his praise.

"Please..." I tried to speak.

"First rule of my booth: you only speak when I allow it. Your only purpose in here is to obey," he interrupted, giving my jaw a gentle, warning squeeze. "Do you understand?"

"Yes... Yes, I understand," I stammered, entirely confused about what to call him. "Yes, Master... or Sir?"

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his sharp jawline.

"You will call me Sir," he ordered, keeping his eyes pinned to mine. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen," I whispered.

"How many men have you been with?"

I stared at him, startled by the deeply intimate question. I brought a hand to my face, trying to cover my cheeks, which were burning bright red with embarrassment.

He let out a low, gravelly chuckle.

"How many, little bird? One? Two?" he guessed.

"None," I confessed in a breathless whisper, dropping my gaze to the floor. "I'm a virgin."

Silence reigned over the booth for a long second. Then, I felt his fingers trace down my neck, sliding slowly lower until he gripped one of my heavy breasts with a firm, possessive squeeze. I gasped at the sudden touch.

"Wow... A virgin," he murmured, completely fascinated. "What is a girl like you doing in a place like this? You should be studying, doing anything else."

"I don't want to talk about my life," I replied, desperately trying to guard my personal information. "I don't want to give details."

"Well, I am your boss from this moment on. That makes us intimate," he countered, squeezing my breast a little harder, testing my limits. "Why do you need this money so badly?"

Tears stung my eyes. The tight grip of his hand and the sheer weight of the humiliation finally broke me.

"My little brother was born with a severe disability. He is hospitalized in a clinic, hooked up to life-support machines and needing twenty-four-hour medical care... My mother is dead and my father is behind bars. I’m the only one left to pay the bills and keep them from unplugging his machines," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion.

The man paused for a moment, absorbing my words. His gaze softened for a mere fraction of a second before turning cold and laser-focused once more. He released my breast and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Listen to me very carefully, little bird. From this moment on, my booth has three basic rules. Rule number one: you only speak when I allow it. Rule number two: you do absolutely everything I tell you to do. And rule number three: your sole purpose in here is to obey me. Do you understand, good girl?"

I looked up at the ruthless billionaire standing before me, knowing that my innocence now belonged entirely to him.