by Hart, Rye
I’d bought this warehouse and transformed it into the hottest BDSM club in the city. I spent my free weekends onsite, watching the feeds I set up in every single room. I was waiting for her. The woman of my dreams. The perfect submissive I’d been dying to sink my teeth into for years. I hadn’t found her yet. Out of all the encounters I’d had with the women that walked through those doors, I had yet to find the one for me.
The one I hunted for tirelessly.
While the pursuit of finding her haunted me.
The masquerade was tonight; the event everyone always turned out for. It was the biggest and most intense party of the year and, every year, I stood watching. Waiting. Everyone who wanted to dip their toes in this scene was always brought to this party and I was waiting for her to walk through those doors.
I had people come in and decorate the entire space. It was covered in red and gold, which was a striking juxtaposition to the black, white, and gray motif that always adorned the club. The massive space of the warehouse was divided into multiple sections, with three fully-stocked bars, a massive dance floor that was lined with cages to dance in, and play spaces as you meandered toward the back. There were your typical dungeons, a couple of rooms modeled after a Roman bath, a couple more spaces that were opulent and had walls lined with play toys.
Then, there were the private rooms. Those rooms were relegated for use only by the richest members of the club who could afford to rent them out. For those that could handle the hefty expense, they could rent the room out for the evening, or even two, if they preferred. They could escort their tantalizing treat for the evening into the fully-stocked roomed and, with the press of a button, they could lock it down from the outside world for up to a week.
I, of course, had my own private space, a room right across from my office. It was outfitted with every single pleasurable instrument found in this community.
I’d only ever taken one woman in there. A woman I thought was going to be the one for me.
But things don’t always pan out, I supposed.
I watched the screens intently. My white suit with its black collar clung to my sculpted body. I was watching the entrance as well as the dance floor, looking for her.
The woman that still didn’t have a name or a face.
My phone rang, interrupting my concentration, and I huffed. I picked up the phone and held it to my ear, listening to the voice talk on the other end of the line.
“Camillo? We got a problem. They’re coming into New York and buying up your properties.”
“Why am I just now learning about this?” I asked.
“Because I’m just now learning it. They’re buying up all the businesses that belonged to the Italians. You know, the ones we visited a few days ago.”
“The ones crumbling under the RICO investigation, I know,” I said. “Why the fuck are they buying them up?”
“I don’t know, but the moment I found out what they were doing, I called.”
“Thanks, brother, but I need more than just their actions,” I said. “I need their motive.”
“My guess is they’re doing it just to piss you off. They did what they did with your father, and now, they’re sticking it to you. I think they’re doing this simply for a laugh. Invading your territory to prove they can.”
“Wait… it’s the Del Vecchio family?” I asked.
There was a string of crumbling Italian businesses that had been tanked because of a racketeering investigation the FBI rained down on the neighborhood. I grew up on those streets. I knew those faces. I knew how scared they were and how their livelihoods were in the toilet. I went around to them and promised them I’d purchase their businesses, breathe life back into their neighborhoods and homes without asking for any disgusting favors in return.
But this family—the Del Vecchio Family—brought my attention back to the past. They killed my father. Put out a hit on him because they thought taking him out meant taking his property. They didn’t realize he was grooming me to take his place. They didn’t realize he’d already transferred many of his assets into my name already.
And now they were making a statement.
It didn’t matter that my father had slaughtered most of the Del Vecchio’s friends. What mattered was that they killed my father when I was only a teenager. The only reason my father killed the head of the Del Vecchio clan was because they were behind my mother’s death.
At least, that’s what my father believed. And no one ever questioned my father.
Ever.
For years, I’d been working on rooting out the rest of this damn family. I’d had some of them killed and some of them thrown in jail. I had some of them take the fall for crimes I’d committed in order to get more information on their growing empire. Piece by piece, I was building the underground kingdom my father had always wanted and I was chipping away at theirs in the process.
But, like a hydra, the moment I cut off one of their heads, two more would grow back.
I was going to have to give this matter my personal attention in order to make sure it was seen through properly. I couldn’t allow this savage, bloodthirsty family to gain a foothold in this city. This was my city. This was my turf. This was where I grew up. These were the streets I ran on.
They belonged to the Moretti Family.
“You think they know?” my brother asked.
“I think we should take them scooping up these businesses as a sign that they at least know the game we’re playing,” I said.
Secretly, I hated life in the mob. I took over the family business because it was expected of me by my father and no one ever questioned my father’s wishes, if they valued their life. He groomed me from the time I was young to take over his seat one day and, by the time I was seventeen, he began making the moves he needed. My guess was he knew the Del Vecchios were coming for his head and he figured he could pull the wool over their eyes by succumbing to them and still not giving them a fucking dime of his shit.
It worked, but it led me down a path I had no passion to follow.
The issue?
I was fucking good at what I did.
It came with a lot of dirty work. I buried more people I loved than I ever wanted to admit and, every time I talked with my brother, I treated it as if it were my last time. We were both silent on the phone as my eyes gravitated back toward the screens and, just as I was about to address my brother, it happened.
She walked through the doors.
A vision in white, draped in lace. Her curves were smooth and fluid, and it looked as if she was floating on air. Her jet-black hair poured down between her shoulder blades, practically taunting my fingers to wrap themselves up within its softness. That dress looked as if it had been tailor-made for her beautiful body, and I lost myself in her grace as my brother tried to get my attention.
“What should we do, Camillo?” he asked.
“I’ll handle it personally,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. Take care of that nephew of mine. Love ya, brother.”
“Love you, too, brother.”
I set the phone down before I leaned in toward the video feed. The girl looked nervous. Her hands were wringing in front of her, and her eyes were darting all over the place. There was another young woman with her, clad in some sort of gaudy, dominatrix dress. She looked much more comfortable in this arena, which could only mean one thing.
The woman I’d found to be mine tonight was new, and the thought already had my cock pulsing with anticipation.
Chapter Three – Rose
As I walked into the massive building, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Crystal’s hand was on the small of my back, escorting me while I took in the sights and sounds. Everyone was clad in all sorts of getups. The women were in revealing costumes, with leather, lace, and chrome. Some were walking around in bodysuits with whips and things that looked like split bamboo. Most of the men were dressed in various forms of suits. A few were dressed in revealing costumes that showed off their best assets.
>
And yes, sometimes that meant their asses.
I craned my neck around while Crystal kept pushing me to the dance floor. I could feel eyes on me, taking in my costume as I walked across the floor. The music was pumping and the lights were dancing around in hypnotic patterns. People were throwing back drinks while some couples were walking around with leashes in their hands. Never in my life had I seen so much I didn’t understand all at once and I found myself backtracking into Crystal’s grasp.
“I’m right here,” she said. “Just take a deep breath.”
“Crystal! Rose!”
I turned my head as I heard Eli’s voice. She came bounding up to us in a body suit. It was leather from head to toe, with a cutout to showcase her prominent cleavage, and she was carrying a whip in her hand.
Had I not heard her voice, I wouldn’t have recognized her.
“Come on, you two. Time for the grand tour.”
She took both of our hands and pulled us to the edge of the room. I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt the cool wall against my back. We walked around the room, skirting the bars and watching as people slowly trickled down various hallways.
“Where are they going?” I asked.
“Oh, all the private rooms are back here.” Eli said. “See the man dragging that woman along in the orange dress?”
I could see a woman tugging against the hand of a man who was shoving her into a room. Everything within me wanted to run up and kick him between his legs but the moment I saw them kiss, I realized whatever they were doing was consensual.
At least, I thought it was.
“That woman is Felicia Matthews,” Eli said.
“Wait, isn’t that—”
“The mayor’s wife?” Crystal asked. “Oh my gosh, that is her. Is that man the mayor?”
“Nope,” Eli said, grinning. “The mayor and his wife are swingers. The man currently dominating her in that room is none other than Richard Delacroix.”
“You mean the man who owns half of upstate New York,” I said.
“Precisely,” Eli said, grinning. “Rumor has it he enjoys stuffing the mayor’s wife with all sorts of toys.”
We kept walking around the floor, stalking everyone like prey. There were people hooked to others by chains, and women who were on their knees and crawling beside their… I don’t even know what they were supposed to be called. People were climbing up into the cages to dance, while others handed them drinks and vibrating toys. I watched one woman sink right down onto a dildo some man had hoisted up into the cage.
My eyes widened at the spectacle, just as Eli caught my attention.
“Look, look, look! They showed up!”
There were two men coming through the doors, clad in leopard-printed suits with insanely gaudy masks. They wore broad smiles as they hugged those around them and, when they turned around, I saw they had on assless pants, along with something shoved up their butts that gave them something resembling a tail.
“The man with the blue tail is Chef Baudenir,” Eli said.
“Oh, I heard he makes the best sushi in town,” Crystal said.
“And the one with the green tail is Maxwell Ronchetto.”
“Wait, I know that name,” I said. “Why do I know that name?”
“Because Maxwell Ronchetto founded the culinary school you two went to.”
I almost fainted right there on the spot.
We cased the wall one last time before we got all the way to the back again. People were slowly trickling back toward the rooms and I could hear lewd and lascivious sounds coming from them. Some were obvious sounds of pleasure; others were muffled sounds that sounded almost like someone was in distress. I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of it. As we passed by a group of women, I could hear them whispering.
“You think he’ll come out?”
“Is he even here?”
“The dark prince is always here.”
“I wish he would pick me.”
“Who are they talking about?” I asked. “Who’s the ‘dark prince’?”
“Oh, that’s the owner of the club. Some super-secret billionaire businessman with ties to the mob or something,” Eli said.
“Wait, what?” I asked. “We’re at a party thrown by the mob?”
“No one really knows,” Eli said, shrugging. “It’s all rumors anyway. He’s known for coming out of that little hidey hole they’re staring at when he sees something he likes.”
“How can he see it if he’s not out here, well, seeing it?” I asked.
“That’s the real question, isn’t it?” Crystal asked, grinning. “I bet he’s got cameras around here that he watches.”
“He’s a true dom,” Eli said. “That’s all anyone really knows. Everything else about him is just speculation. Except for him using a woman just for one night. That’s true, too.”
“So, he comes out when he sees someone on camera he likes,” I said. “And he uses them for what? Pleasure? Then he just leaves?”
“Pretty much,” Eli said. “I would actually let him give me a nice little ride. You know, just for the experience.”
“You little switch, you,” Crystal said.
“What?” I asked.
“A switch,” Crystal said. “It’s someone who prefers one role but can easily slip into the other if necessary.”
“This all sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie to me,” I said.
“Yet, we’ve been here thirty minutes, and you haven’t cried ‘uncle’ yet,” Crystal said.
She was right. I hadn’t suggested we go back yet. I was uncomfortable and I was in a world I didn’t recognize, but I didn’t feel threatened. I didn’t feel like I was in any danger. And none of these people knew who I was anyway, except Eli and Crystal.
“Wanna dance?”
I whipped my head around at the voice and saw a man dressed in tight leather pants and a black mask. No shirt. No shoes. No tie or anything. Just a six pack, some pants, and a mask hiding his face. Crystal practically shoved me into him and he caught me, chuckling in a way that made me feel disturbingly tantalized. Still, I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor as the music started rattling my bones.
As I danced with the man, the cages around the dance floor were slowly filling up with practically-naked men and women. The one I’d seen earlier who sat on the dildo was gone but, in her place, was a man swaying his hips and swinging the cage itself on its chain. The bass of the music was caressing my nerves, raising my nipples to painful peaks as the man’s hands traveled over my body. I could feel the music penetrating me, hypnotizing me in ways I’d never experienced before as I pressed the swell of my ass into the man’s crotch.
But as my eyes lifted from the floor to the balcony surrounding the building, I saw a man venture out of that little hideout the women were gossiping over.
The man that emerged was tall and muscular. Even in the shadows, I could see his strength. His jawline was etched with a granite-like steadiness; like it had been forged in the fires of a kiln. He was dressed in a perfectly-tailored white suit that boasted a black collar, and his face was covered by a half-mask of molded black.
I could feel his gaze on me while his eyes swam along my body.
I followed him with my eyes as he headed for the stairs. His tall frame seemed to float, his muscles flexing with every movement as he practically snaked across the floor and the crowd slowly stopped dancing. Jaws dropped and eyes turned toward him. The man dancing with me dropped his hands from my waist as the mysterious man locked eyes with me once again.
This must be the dark prince everyone had been whispering about tonight.
And there was no denying who he was staring at.
Fuck, I’m turned on.
And scared shitless.
My dance partner stepped away from me and I mindlessly waited for him. I felt on display, like a wounded animal being stalked by the lion about to pounce on its jugular. He was headed right for me, his beautiful blue eyes encasing the w
hole of me as he slowly strode across the floor. His eyes burned into me, penetrating my very soul. It was as if all my secrets and mistakes and imperfections were on display for him and I felt my hands beginning to tremble, even as my eyes stayed attached to his.
I was frozen in my spot as he stood in front of me, moving himself between the man I was dancing with and my body.
Without his eyes dropping my stare, I felt his hand reach over to take mine. He lifted it into the air and stepped toward me, his free arm grazing my lower back as he pulled my body close to his. I could feel the whole of his strength against my skin. I could feel the beating of his heart against my body. I could feel the way he held me tightly, daring me to fall into him just to see if he would catch me.
I let out the breath I was holding as his hand pressed deeper into my back and, soon, he began gliding me across the floor to the beat of the music.
He was a wonderful dancer. Fluid. Attuned to my body. He guided me in all the ways I could understand, all while his eyes stayed connected with mine. My neck was craned back to keep him in my view, trying to read the few facial features I could see while we twisted and turned around the dance floor.
His presence was almost overwhelming. The way he gripped my hand, the way he held me tightly, the way his body pressed into mine and invaded all the spaces I didn’t take up. The way his gaze pierced through my walls, and the way I suddenly felt comfortable in his arms.
The tension was overpowering and I suddenly found myself short of breath.
The song started to fade, and I could feel my chest rising and falling rapidly. There was a spark of worry that started in my chest. I didn’t know if I could catch my breath. I broke my stare with him as the song slowly switched into another one, but I felt him tug me to the edge of the room as everyone started to trickle back onto the dance floor.
I followed him without a second thought and I didn’t even understand why.
He took my hand protectively, but not forcefully. He was leading me, not tugging me like Crystal had been all day today. I studied the back of his body, the way his broad shoulders quickly tapered into his hips. I studied the long lines of his legs and the way his black shoes glistened with the colors of the strobe lights flickering across the room.