Page 5 of Maybe This Time
“So you’re not here to kill me?” I asked, my eyes narrowed at him. Probably the dumbest question I could ask since no killer would say yes, but the words came out before I’d fully processed them.
His lips briefly quirked to the side. “No, Ms. Morrone. I’m afraid that isn’t in my job description.”
Was he flirting with me? Objectively, he wasn’t bad to look at, but I doubted he’d want to ask me out after I’d battered him with my purse because I mistook him for a serial killer.
“Okay,” I simply said, giving him a small smile.
“Right this way, Ms. Morrone,” he said, heading toward the abandoned building in front of us.
He came to a stop at an imposing black door I hadn’t noticed before and my gaze caught on the carved Mystique in a simple, elegant font before he pushed it open, holding it for me.
“After you,” he said in a professional tone, his body straightening up as if someone inside was now watching him. Gone was the smile or the flirtatious tone.
Taking a deep breath to calm my erratically beating heart, I walked toward him, but my steps halted when I couldn’t see pastthe threshold. “Wait, how do you know my name andwhyis it so dark in there?”
He met my gaze and his face softened. “We know all of our guests, Ms. Morrone. The lights will turn on once the door closes behind us. We do it to protect the privacy of our guests,” he explained.
This was the weirdest establishment I’d ever been to and I’d barely been inside. My head was telling me to go home, but strangely, something about the mystery was surprisingly enticing. I’d be the last person to step into the unknown, but fuck it. It was my birthday and unless this man was a stalker, there was no way he’d know my name.
“Okay,” I finally said. “But you go first. I’ll close the door behind us.” He opened his mouth to, without a doubt, tell me it was against protocol or some bureaucratic response, but I plastered a giant smile on my face and added, “I insist.”
Hesitation flickered in his gaze for a moment before he sighed and went inside, holding the door ajar until I grabbed it from him. Then his body disappeared into the darkness as I carefully shut it behind me, my hand still flat on its surface.
Just in case.
I was about to call out for him, realizing I didn’t even know his name, when soft lighting slowly flooded the space around me. I blinked a few times until my vision adjusted to where I was.
My breath whooshed out in one soft gasp.
Holy shit.
I knew this was some sort of exclusive club, but it felt like I’d just stepped into a castle. The ceiling was designed in a rococo style, with a trompe l’oeil oculus painted in golds and greens. A bifurcated red-carpeted staircase framed the large entry hall leading to an upper floor while the gleaming black marbled floor with a large goldMinlaid into the floor in a similar font tothe lettering outside shone like it’d just been polished. I could practically see my reflection staring back at me.
“Come with me,” the unnamed—bodyguard?—said, pulling my attention away from my gawking.
“Yeah… sure,” I stammered, shaking myself out of my stupor and following behind him. More lights flooded the space as he led me deeper into the hall to another solid black door—minus the writing.
He turned to face me and held a hand out. “May I see your invitation?”
It took me a moment to register his question, still in awe of the space around me. “Yes,” I replied, fishing it out of the purse I’d just hit him with. I gave him a polite smile before handing it to him. I wasn’t sure why he needed the invitation since he knew who I was, but maybe it was a formality to make sure I wasn’t lying. Although after everything that had transpired so far tonight, I doubted he thought I was an impostor.
He grabbed it and with his back to me, he stepped closer to the door before swiping the black stock card over it. Puzzled, I raised a brow and tilted my head to peer over his broad shoulder to see what he was doing.
Before I could ask him, a soft whirring sound echoed around us before the door that had previously been there lowered into the ground.
“Ms. Morrone, welcome to Mystique.”
CHAPTER 4
TALYA
The momentthe door pulled shut behind me, it felt like I’d just been swallowed into a decadent secrecy.
The room spread in front of me was drenched in a deep, velvety red that seemed to glow under the soft flicker of golden lights. Dark polished wooden floors gleamed in contrast to the scarlet tones, and the golden accents on the light fixtures and bar tied it all together.
This place must have cost a fortune becauseholy fuck. I didn’t know much about clubs and what it took to build them, but I’d renovated the entire office space I’d bought for Roots and I was still paying for the loan I’d taken to make it happen.
My gaze roamed around the darkened atmosphere, taking in the numerous low-set tables and booths situated around the club. Sheer curtains hung throughout the room to separate what looked like sections. Most were occupied by couples or groups sharing a drink, but as I surveyed the space, my gaze caught movement in a booth at the far end of the room, where a woman dressed in a tight leather jumpsuit was practically riding the man beneath her.
