Page 72 of Enthrall Climax
The Belgravia Club sat regally on Park Avenue.
Shay and I parked our bikes and then took a few minutes to strategize as we assessed our entry point. We used Google to garner more details that might come in useful.
It was the kind of place you couldn’t buy yourself into. Becoming a member was by recommendation only by an established member.
Scanning through the photos showing the crisp clean décor of white and gold amidst airy spaces, I gathered you’d also need a healthy salary to enjoy the amenities. The restaurant boasted New York’s finest chefs, a luxury spa, and a walled garden where the ladies could enjoy exclusive presentations and then mingle afterward while sipping champagne.
We were buzzed through the club’s front door.
I approached the reception desk. “We’re tech support, here for the garden lecture. Apparently, you’re having issues with the visual effects? We’ll sort it out and be out of your hair in no time.”
The pretty brunette studied her ledger like she had the authority to decide on the guests’ comings and goings. She pointed to a map to indicate where Helete was. I tried not to blink in surprise.
We strode down a long, well-lit hallway that had spacious windows and a tall ceiling. The scent of lavender filled the air, and under different circumstances I might have enjoyed my visit to a place so architecturally pleasing.
The Dionysus Club had been firmly placed in my rearview and if Helete hadn’t sent that threat I wouldn’t have come here.
“I’ll stand guard,” said Shay.
I gave a nod of agreement and left him just outside.
A lattice ceiling covered the garden and at the end stood a podium at which Helete was regaling an audience of at least sixty well-dressed women. She’d dressed for the event in an elegant red pant suit and her Tiffany necklace shimmered brightly. Her French accent was disarmingly beautiful and her lovely sharp features were nature’s way of throwing off her victims. She was the equivalent of a praying mantis that bit off her mate’s head right after sex. No apology, just doing what came naturally. She reminded me of Zie.
I caught the drift of her presentation—it was about sexual freedom and in no way required any technical additions to her monologue on feminist rights. The receptionist wouldn’t know this and had swallowed my lie.
I rarely twisted the truth like this. I was a man of my word and had integrity, but getting into an only woman’s club was, as Galina had pointed out, rather impossible.
My specialty.
Shay had uncovered Helete and Zie’s friendship and discovered they were hanging out a lot together. I focused my attention on Helete and our impending conversation. I remained at the back of the garden and folded my arms, waiting.
Watching.
Seething.
With a fixed expression that didn’t reveal whether or not I’d rattled her, Helete offered an apology to her audience and then excused herself. She walked toward me with the swagger of a woman who’d tasted power. Not just off Lance’s senatorial cock but in her own right. She owned those members of Dionysus, knowing enough of their secrets to burn each and every man’s life to the ground.
I turned and made my way to the far corner.
She emanated iciness as she approached. “How did you get in?”
“I was about to ask you the same,” I retorted.
“Did you enjoy your visit to my club?”
“Most enlightening.”
“I heard a rumor that Shay fucked you in the ass in the pool spa.”
“I think that’s your fantasy.” I glanced behind me to check how much time I had. “Or Zie’s.” I wanted her to know I knew they were close.
“Did you enjoy the cake?”
“What was the meaning behind that?”
“You trespassed into my club. I reciprocated by invading the very center of your home. You should chat with Mia about security. She let my man right in.”
“It’s so hard to get through to someone who is so damn pure.”
