Page 18 of Bared Betrayal
“I’m no fucking kid.” He seethes. “Especially not yours. And I don’t need your fucking money.”
“I didn’t say you needed it.”
“Fine. I’ll rephrase it, then. I don’twantyour money, Gabriel.” He clenches his jaw. “I sure as fuck don’t need it. I’ve never needed anything from you, and I plan on letting it stay that way.” Venom practically drips from his lips as he glares at me.
“Nevertheless—” I square my shoulders, leaning back “—my offer stands. Take me up on it. Don’t take me up on it. Do whatever works for you.”
I stand, sliding my Ray-Bans on, ready to leave, when Sebastian straightens, blocking my way. “What works for me is for you to stay where you’ve been for the last twenty-four years.” He inches closer. “Out of my life.”
That undoubtedly hurts like a fucking bitch. Especially since I know the truth.
He steps around me and strides quickly down the street. All I can do is watch him walk away and wish it could be different. I sit back down, trying to calm my thoughts, hating the way the past just keeps on chewing away at my ass. He doesn’t know how my world came to an end all those years ago, the day I realized I got robbed of everything I cared about. I’d do anything to have the power to change the trajectory our lives have taken. But having all the money in the world and having ties to the most influential people in all the right places can’t do shit to make this right. Nothing can.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I’m thankful for the distraction because my thoughts are moments away from giving me goddamn motion sickness. I slip out my phone, sliding my finger across the screen to see a message from Alexius confirming that everything is set for our exclusive event to take place tonight at Myth. And it seems Alexius is in a celebratory mood since he and his wife will join us tonight.
I’m looking forward to it.
I scroll through a few emails that confirm last-minute details about the event and the guest list. Fleetingly, I wonder about Sebastian and his fiancée again. What is she like? Probably nothing like the ladies at Myth. More reserved, refined. The perfect fit for Sebastian and his overbearing grandmother. I hope the poor woman knows what she’s getting herself into.
* * *
“Gabriel,”Alexius greets me, and I step closer, reaching out to shake his hand. It’s been a while since the Dark Sovereign Monarch joined us for one of our exclusive parties. It’s always fun having a Del Rossa brother attend. They make for the most entertaining evenings.
I glance at his wife, standing tightly at his side, looking ravishing in her red dress. Her black lace mask heightens the mystery surrounding the woman who managed to tame Alexius Del Rossa.
I merely nod at her. There’s a special code of conduct men in this club have to adhere to. You don’t fucking speak to Leandra Del Rossa.
“We’re about to start. Please follow me,” I say, refraining from small talk. Alexius and I always have matters to discuss, but this is not the place for any discussion that does not have to do with the sole reason we’re all here. Pleasure.
Club Myth is the absolute epitome of perfection and wealth. The Dark Sovereign spares no expense when it comes to this place. It’s a fucking paradise, a world on its own.
I inhale deeply, appreciating the scent of wicked fantasies and dirty dreams. Sin clings to its walls, desire thickening the air we breathe. As we walk through the door and into the dimly lit area with red velvet paneled walls, I can already feel the excitement ripple from the back of my neck down my spine.
We’re on the top level, and I walk up to the railing feeling like the motherfucking king as I stare down at the flock of sheep on the lower level, the oval table gleaming under the black crystal chandelier, waiting for its offering.
Our hostess, who has remained loyal to our cause here for years, speaks loudly and clearly, listing the rules and informing them of how we do things around here.
“As I said before, you do not choose your Elite. The Elite chooses you,” she continues. “There are six Elites here tonight. Each of them prepared to choose one of you to accompany them this evening. Obviously, not everyone will have that privilege.”
Seven Elites if you count me. But I never join the line-up with the others. Some nights I don’t even participate. It all depends on whether some poor lamb catches my eye. I don’t play with just anyone. I don’t simply pick a submissive for the sake of fucking. There must be an invisible pull toward a potential candidate that inspires me to walk down those stairs and claim her.
Tonight, however, my interest is piqued by the one wearing a white dress among a sea of red. Like a virgin at the altar of the pagan gods, she stands out like a light in the darkness. I can’t keep my gaze away from her, my hands tightening around the railing, my fingers itching to touch her alabaster skin. She would be perfect to toy with. So petite. Even with heels, she’s still shorter than the others.
Does she intimidate easily? Does she obey without hesitating? Does she beg?
God. Taking her would be a pleasure, to bend her over and make her mine whenever the mood struck me. And with her, it would strike me often. She is made for pleasure—my kind of pleasure. Her pale skin would be gorgeously marred with red welts and pink stripes. Bruises from knotted rope around her wrists and ankles. Fuck, I want to play with her. Hard.
I stand next to Alexius and Leandra, the three of us watching silently as the women are led to the oval table. Each potential sub presents herself for pleasure, offering her body in the hope she will be picked by one of the Elite seven. It’s an altar of flesh, a sacrifice laid bare for the gods to taste.
I never tire of standing on the balcony, watching the parties unfold. Witnessing the pleasure on the women’s faces as the other Elites lick up and down their cunts is the most entertaining part—apart from finding a suitable candidate to accompany me for the night.
Whispers come from next to me, and I glance over at Alexius as he angles his head down, murmuring something in his wife’s ear. Whatever it is, she blushes and nods. You’d have to be blind not to see the chemistry between them burn as bright as the fucking sun. No wonder Alexius has been MIA lately. I would be, too, if she were mine. It’s the first time I’ve met the Del Rossa wife, and from our brief introduction, I already know Leandra is a fucking queen. She stands with absolute confidence next to her husband. She’s Dark Sovereign royalty, and there’s no mistaking it.
“What do you think of the attendees so far?” I aim my question at Alexius, adhering to the rules of not speaking to his wife.
“Let me guess, the one in white caught your attention.” Alexius smirks.
“Of course she has. You don’t wear a white dress to an event like this because you’re trying not to get noticed.”
