I opted to snort a fresh line of coke before heading back to the party, but it didn’t make any difference. I could’ve snorted all the coke in the world, and it wouldn’t have meant shit to the self-loathing in my eyes as I stared in the mirror.
If only everyone knew the truth.
If only they knew the filth that had turned me into the sad little freak I’d grown up to be.
But it was too late for that.
It was too late for anything other than to destroy myself as quickly as possible. Maybe one day I’d finally pluck up enough courage to end my life. Maybe.
Just a shame Lucian Morelli couldn’t have finished me off and made a martyr of me. He’d have given me a damn good fuck before the slaughter.
Fuck it.
Fuck it all, and fuck him too.
I headed back to the party and drank until I passed out.3LucianI should’ve gone straight on to Violent Delights and fucked whoever I wanted, abusing them long and hard before I slammed their pussy. That’s the beauty of having your own personal BDSM club – you treat it like one. Everyone in there was mine. They belonged to me, just like the building they were playing filthy games in. They just didn’t know it.
It was the perfect amusement in my portfolio, and I didn’t have to lift a finger to oversee the place. Clark Ventana did all the grunt work, and I cashed in on the profits. We were my kind of team. Still, that team meant nothing to me that night.
My chauffeur looked shit scared as he pulled up at the rear of the Constantine compound and opened the back door for me. He ushered me inside as quickly as he dared and shot back to the driver’s side. Trenton was already on the cell as I dropped into the leather.
“I want one of Rex’s girls. Now.” I paused to smell Elaine’s scent on my fingers. “Blonde. Blue eyes. Young.”
He cleared his throat. “Where do you want her?”
The sweep of Bishop’s Landing was outside the windows when I gave my answer. I’d had enough of it. I needed the hub of the city. “Central apartment.”
“Sure thing. I’ll have her over within the hour.”
I didn’t say thanks before I ended the call. Thanks was limited to special occasions for a man like me.
“Did you hear that?” I asked the chauffeur.
“No, sir.” He shook his head, pretending he was unable to hear a word I’d been saying. Smart move on his part.
“Central apartment.”
It was the third of my properties, positioned right at the heart of New York. At least the little blonde slut would get a nice skyline view as I fucked her up.
I’d pulled my mask off and dumped it out the window long before the car pulled up outside the Central main entrance. I could practically feel the relief of the driver as I left the car. Pussy.
I took a deep breath of city air before I reached the doors and stepped inside. I loved the city. I loved the buzz; I loved the life; I loved the thrill. Sure, I’d traveled the globe plenty through my thirty-five years on this planet, but nowhere had ever captured me like this place.
The team on main reception tipped their heads as I walked on by, but I ignored them, pacing through to the elevator.
I reached level thirty-two in a flash after giving a nod to the overhead camera as I passed level thirty-one. My security team is on constant high alert. Anyone trying to get to my suite would never make it without being stopped and shot. My go-to pimp, Rex Halloway, would be plenty safe with the bitch I ordered in his grip, but very few people could say the same.
I was standing at my main suite windows, surveying the city lights, when the buzz of my door sounded. I made my way over slowly, making them wait.
Rex arrived well within the hour. Excellent service. So it should be, since I was paying a fortune for his filth.
He gave me a nod as he handed the girl over. She was small. Scared. Pretty. Perfectly within my brief . . . but her hair wasn’t naturally blonde.
“Substandard product,” I said. “She’d better be a true fucking virgin or there will be shit to pay.”
“Short notice,” he replied. “I’ll send you a better one free of charge when you’re next buying.”
I shut the door in his face.
The girl didn’t know what to do. She was wearing a slip of lace, white and sweet. It suited her. I ignored her as I strode back through to the main living room, and she followed me with dainty little steps.
“What’s your name?” I asked her, and her voice was a delicate quiver when she answered.
“Natalie, sir.”
“Well, Natalie, tonight you’re Elaine, understand?”