Page 11 of Chandelier Enthralled
Beneath the soft glow of the lights, an erotic vision promised to unfold. Her beauty was mystical—I’d always thought that.
Her eyes glinted with desire, holding secrets too deep for this dim lighting to reveal. Her poise was a feminine gift to these men, silent, even as she was breathtaking, and yet utterly unknowable.
I knew the truth about her now, and it hurt like hell. I knew that something darker lay beneath the surface, a sinister nature that harmed others without regret.
They stepped towards her, all three of them with their cocks out, and she set about pleasuring each one, lavishing them with affection, taking her time to suck each man off, moving from one to the other, a submissive serving her new masters.
My gut told me Jewel had conspired to make her do this—her way of cutting me deep as she preyed on the woman who was meant to be mine. Stealing her away, even though I knew we were over.
Choices… They come and go and it’s only in retrospect that we know if we did the right thing.
I finished off the bourbon, letting its burn cleanse me. Shielded by shadows, I fought the urge to intervene.
Or maybe I hoped they’d fuck her to death.
The golden rule was to never interrupt a session—especially at Pendulum.
I’d broken that rule more times than I could count, making a stand against anyone who refused to treat others with dignity. At times, it made me unpopular, but I never cared what people thought of me.
Stomach twisting, I was considering ways to numb the pain when I witnessed Amelia in a compromising scene that placed her in harm’s way.
I left the great hall and walked the familiar route along the winding hallway, soon reaching the private bar and continuing onwards. I stepped into another corridor and headed for what was essentially a dead end.
There was a cupboard-like space there that held more significance than most guests realized—it was a secret elevator.
I entered the space I wasn’t meant to know existed.
I’d taken this route before, but Atticus and Jake had no idea I had visited the upper floors. And that was about to be revealed—I could feel it in my gut. With a press of a hidden button, the elevator rose, taking me to the sixth floor.
A month ago, Atticus had found this covert elevator. I had pretended to have no knowledge of it when he’d mentioned it, not being ready to admit what I had done for Pendulum before Atticus and Jake were members.
My passion had been twisted into the barbaric.
Once, I’d found pleasure in crafting buildings that defied gravity, pushing the limits of logic, and, against all odds, finding a way to invite the light in. It was never about me; it was always what the building became for others.
But this place had ruined that for me.
When the elevator door opened, I stepped out onto the blood-red carpet. A scarlet welcome that served as a portent of what was to come—the blood sports they played that often led to a trespasser’s death.
Mirrored walls reflected my tall, lean frame as I walked by, guilt etched into every step—I knew the way. I’d want to say it was my way of protecting my friends, but they’d never see it like that.
From the beginning, being at Pendulum had soothed my soul. I had carved out a space for my rough edges. Taming unruly submissives with endless pleasure. Providing my special brand of bliss. The subs would search me out after a scene and beg for more time with me.
I’d always preferred pleasure to pain—structuring emotions out of their suffering and bringing them back to bliss.
Which was how I’d discovered Amelia.
Downstairs, she had fallen into the deep end now—she had made her choice.
This set of private chambers blended the elements of a parlor with the intimacy of a changing room. Its velvet drapes and intricate furnishings whispered luxury and indulgence.
This room had belonged to Aemon Roper, the club’s High Chancellor—before Atticus had tracked Roper to Thailand and ensured he’d never set foot in Pendulum again. We suspected Atticus might have killed him, but we didn’t know for certain.
Aemon had once held all the power here.
Now, he was nothing more than a sordid memory. His widow, Eve, and his daughter were finally free from abuse. Eve seemed so happy with Atticus. After everything Aemon had done to her, I couldn’t be more relieved that she was finally free of that bully of a husband.
I found what I had come here for—a full-faced masquerade mask. After slipping it on, I also found a gown known to belong to a member of the High Chamber. This attire would grant me full authority.
