by Max Monroe
But the closure didn’t stem from understanding the situations. No. I’d found closure because I’d understood that when it came to Matt Hadder and Wonderland, there were some things I didn’t and shouldn’t need to know. Even though my curiosity was ravenous, I guessed sometimes it was better, safer, if I stayed in the dark.
So, tonight, while Wonderland flourished inside of an iconic California beach community, I put a charming smile on my face and looked at everything for face value. No questions. No assumptions. Just living in this moment and bettering my financial situation along the way.
A town where cliffs cascaded into coastline and little markets, pocket-sized playgrounds and laid-back residents made up its landscape, Malibu lived up to its hype. Despite the million-dollar mansions resting upon its lush hills, it exuded small-town charm. Quaint. Intimate. Serene.
And Wonderland inside Malibu? Well, it was irony at its finest.
Roger Gold owned one of the biggest record companies in the world, and his extravagant home was nestled inside of Carbon Beach, one of Malibu’s exclusive enclaves. It was aptly named and better known as Billionaire Beach by most Californians. The house matched the man, and it also matched the party.
Expensive wine tastings, six-course meals served by a world-renowned chef, and a celebration cake the size of my apartment, extravagance shone through every facet of Roger Gold’s party.
What was the occasion? His fiftieth birthday.
And here’s the kicker, the guests didn’t bring gifts. They brought money. And every cent went to one of Mr. Gold’s favorite charities: Camp Smiles—a children’s organization that provided medical care to poverty-stricken families across the world.
On the surface, it all appeared normal, generous even.
But beneath the lavish party lay Wonderland. A world where good and bad didn’t exist, and money, along with human, greedy desires, was top priority.
What Matt had said was true. The real money was made behind the veil.
And tonight’s veil appeared to be a birthday party in the name of raising money for underprivileged children.
I knew the cause wasn’t a complete front. Money was being raised for the children within the Camp Smiles charitable organization. Hell, from what I could see, millions of dollars would assist poverty-stricken families across the world to provide their children with much-needed medical care and treatment.
But I didn’t really know what lay behind that veil. I knew a lot of money was being moved around, and it sure as fuck wasn’t all in the name of charity, but the answers to the why and how were completely unknown to me.
The line between good and bad felt blurred more than ever.
Hell, I wasn’t sure I could even see that fucking line anymore.
It was a little after eleven, and the party was in full swing. Famous faces filled the mansion and even spilled out onto the spacious deck that led to Roger Gold’s private section of Malibu beach.
With a bottle of tequila and four rocks glasses on my tray, I stepped outside to serve Mr. Gold and three of his closest friends. One of those friends just so happened to be the governor. Yes, the actual governor of fucking California.
I watched the tray closely as I took each step down the deck stairs with care. Once I reached the main floor, I passed several small groups chatting and laughing amongst one other before I made my way over to Roger Gold’s group in a darkened corner of the outside landscape.
Their small, quiet spot overlooked the water, the languid flowing of the tide muffling their conversation. As I caught sight of the waves carelessly dribbling onto the sand, I couldn’t help but be transfixed by the scene ahead, the quiet night accompanied by a soft breeze that gently stroked my face.
In twilight, the beach was tinted sepia, the sand more orange and the water darker.
It was moments like this, surrounded by wealth and extravagance, walking around a home that came straight out of my dreams, that made me realize my life was starting to feel more fantasy than anything else.
It was moments like this that had me wondering, how did I get here?
But it was the fact that it all felt so natural, so utterly normal, that was the most mind-blowing of all. That I’d reached a point where I wasn’t even questioning it anymore.
Like the finding cards game Aunt Delores and I played, it just was.
Nonsensical. Confusing. The opposite of black and white. Wonderland was a different kind of world. One where the terms right and wrong were used loosely, and everyone had an underlying motive of their own making.
But maybe that isn’t just Wonderland? Maybe that’s life?
The gurgling and the gushing of the waves brought me back to reality.
With the tray in my hand, I stood frozen beside Roger Gold and his close friends, my gaze more focused on the world around me than the job I was supposed to be doing. I quickly shook myself out of my trance and greeted the gentlemen with a soft smile.
“Tequila?” I asked with a little wink and set the bottle and glasses on the table in the center of them.
“Perfect,” Roger responded with a smirk. “Thank you, sweetheart. You’re a doll.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“You,” a man with bright blue eyes and Cheshire cat smile said as he ran his index finger up my arm.
He was propositioning me. It wasn’t the first time, and obviously, since I was working at parties like these, ones where money flowed freely and everyone in attendance felt they were entitled to anything they desired, it wouldn’t be the last.
But I’d grown accustomed to it over the past few weeks, understanding how to shrug it off politely and go about my business without adding dramatics into the mix.
“Oh, but I’m not on the menu tonight,” I answered, and his smile only grew wider.
“Oh, but I think you are.” His hand wrapped around my wrist, and before I could stop him, he pulled me into his lap with a quick yank. “I think you and I are going to have some fun tonight.”
I glanced around the darkened corner to find no one outside of the group within earshot, and panic seized my voice.
“Leave her alone, Penn.” Roger chuckled softly across from us. “There’s plenty of beautiful and willing women upstairs ready to satisfy your every need.”
“But I want this one,” he said and wrapped his hands tightly around my stomach.
“I’m not—” I started to refute, but he quickly cut me off.
“I think you are,” he whispered hotly into my ear as his hands moved dangerously close to the swell of my breasts. The smell of alcohol on his breath permeated my senses and tickled my gag reflex. I swallowed hard against the urge to vomit.
“You need to let me go, sir,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I don’t need to do anything,” he retorted.
“Let her up, Penn,” Roger urged again, but his vile friend didn’t listen. Not that ole Rog had truly tried to sound convincing. He was having too good a time to get really upset about anything.
Penn migrated his hands up my stomach until his fingertips rested just below my bra. His lips were on my neck, sucking at the sensitive skin a moment later.
I gagged when his tongue snuck out and stole a taste.
“Stop it,” I said and tried to get out of his hold, but it was no use. He kept me tightly to his body, his arousal evident against my ass. Tears filled my eyes of their own accord. “Let me go,” I urged again and looked up to the men in his group. “A little help? Please?” I asked, and I couldn’t hide the shaky desperation in my voice.
But they didn’t have time to respond.
From out of nowhere, Matt stood in front of us, his gaze fixated on the man holding me against my will. And Cal was beside him.
“Let her up,” Matt said. The stern, damn near murderous tone of his voice—and a look of sheer cruelty on his face—had the man letting me go in an instant.
“I was just having a little fun,” he said and raised both of his h
ands. “No harm done.”
Matt scanned me quickly, concern and worry creasing the corners of his eyes, before he moved his dark gaze back to the revolting human being.
“Roger, if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time I have a little chat with your friend Penn here,” Matt announced, and Roger merely nodded.
Even if it hadn’t been me, Wonderland wasn’t in the business of sexual misconduct or abuse. Jessie Cat and all of the other pleasure girls I’d talked to truly enjoyed what they were doing while they were doing it—or they didn’t engage at all. Period.
Apparently, Matt gave every pleasure girl a spiel when they first signed up. It was loaded with information, but nearly every woman I’d talked to remembered one specific thing. You do what you like. Not what you don’t. If something isn’t your cup of tea, I’ll find someone else who loves the flavor. Don’t force it.
“Understandable,” Roger agreed despite his earlier lack of enthusiasm to help. No one wanted to be on Matt’s bad side, even if they had to sacrifice their crummy friend to keep from landing there.
Before Penn could argue, Cal was by his side and lifting him to his feet by the neck of his shirt. “Let’s go.”
Matt took my hand, and I followed.
I didn’t know where we were going, didn’t even question it. I just followed.
Moments later, we were in the house, on the second floor, inside an empty room. Cal tossed Penn inside, and Damien and Hare entered behind him, closing the door shut with a quiet click.
Four big and very scary men stared down at the man who’d taken a simple proposition for sex way too far. It was terrifying, and I wasn’t even the coward on the receiving end of their hard, pissed-off glares.
“I’m s-sorry,” the coward said, but Matt shook his head.
“You fucked up.”
“I was just playing around,” he responded with a shaky lilt to his voice, and then his eyes met mine. “Right?”
“Don’t fucking look at her,” Matt spat.
Before Penn could respond, Matt stalked toward him. With one veiny, muscular forearm, he lifted him up by the shirt and pushed his back roughly against the wall. “Don’t you dare fucking look at her again.”
He nodded maniacally. “S-sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Let’s walk outside for a minute, Alex,” Hare said quietly toward me, but Matt wasn’t a fan of that option.
“She stays,” he gritted out, but his eyes stayed locked on the man he was still holding against the wall.
My eyes went wide. I stay?
“You sure, boss?” Hare asked.
“She fucking stays.”
He was going to kick this guy’s ass, and he wanted me to watch.
I was equal parts terrified and turned the fuck on.
I watched as Matt landed a hard punch to the center of Penn’s face before letting him fall to the floor like a sack of potatoes. The crushing blow echoed inside the room, and Penn groaned on the floor with his hands pressed firmly to his face.
“Get up, you spineless fuck.” Matt stared down at him. “You tried to take advantage of a defenseless woman. Now, you get to learn there’s consequences for being a pathetic piece of shit.”
With panting, pained breaths, Penn got to his feet. “I had too much to drink, man. I didn’t mean any harm by it.”
I tried not to stare at his nose, but my eyes kept diverting to it. One moment they were obediently on his red-rimmed eyes, and the next, they were fixated on the bloody mess that had been a perfectly ordinary nose only a few minutes ago.
“For someone who thinks he’s a man, you sure know how to beg like a little bitch.” Matt chuckled humorlessly. “And we both know this isn’t the first fucking time you’ve tried to pull shit like that, but I guarantee it’ll be the last fucking time.” Two hard, swift punches to his stomach and another to his face and Penn was beat to shit—nose smashed, eyes almost swollen shut, and his arms wrapped around his guts like he was trying to hold them in.
Bloody spit drooled from Penn’s slacked jaw as he looked at Matt with only fear in his eyes.
I stared at the grotesque scene, transfixed.
Matt was setting an example, and I wasn’t sure if that example would have Penn walking out of this room alive.
But I couldn’t deny that Penn now looked as revolting as he should, the mess on the outside now reflecting the man within.
This was a man who took what he wanted and didn’t give a shit about what that meant for anyone else. Alcohol or not, what he tried to do to me outside was unforgivable. And had Matt not stepped in, I honestly wasn’t sure what would’ve happened.
I could only imagine the worst.
Maybe I should’ve been scared. Maybe I should’ve seen Matt as the villain, a man trying to make two wrongs form a right.
But in that moment, justice and redemption rose above the bad.
I could only see Matt as the man who protected me.
HIS HEAD JERKED TO THE side, and blood spurted from the corner of his mouth as I landed one final punch right to his jaw. He whimpered and fell to the floor, unused to being taught memorable lessons. He was the definition of silver-spoon-fed, and people had been giving him exactly what he wanted since forever.
No one told him you couldn’t take what didn’t agree to give.
But he wouldn’t fucking forget being told now. Not ever.
If he did, I’d make sure he wouldn’t have the opportunity to forget anything again.
“You don’t make the rules here,” I spat, nudging his limp body with my foot. “Look at me, you fuck!” I yelled.
Strained, his effort so large it made his eyes flutter and flirt with unconsciousness, he lifted his head from the floor and aimed it at me. His eyes were swollen shut, but apparently, the dumb fuck wasn’t too stupid to follow the sound of my voice anyway.
“I won’t see you anywhere ever again. If we’re in the same goddamn pasta aisle at the grocery store, you better hope I don’t recognize your ugly fucking face.”
He nodded, a moan gurgling the loose blood in his mouth with the motion.
Rage held my shoulders high, up around my goddamn ears, as I closed my eyes and fought to calm myself.
“Get him fucking out of here,” I ordered to the room at large. With Hare, Damien, and Cal looking on, I didn’t care if it took one or all of them. They better make this scum-sucking asshole’s body disappear.
Damien jumped forward first, grabbing the guy by the armpits and dragging, but Cal, obviously amped up about the assault on Alex, shoved him out of the way and grabbed the guy by the hair.
“Ahhh!” he screamed, the follicles on his head no match for the bulk of his supposedly strong body. No amount of muscle could make this cocksucker anything but weak.
“All of you,” I ordered, my voice grating on dangerous. “Get out.”
Alex was the first to move from her position in the corner, shaking a little as she stepped over the pool of blood left behind and attempted to skirt by me without a touch.
I planted a soft hand on her trim belly to bring her to a stop.
Fiery, fearful blue eyes climbed and climbed until they found mine and stayed there.
“You stay,” I commanded gently.
Her skin was hot, even more so than normal, and I could feel the thrum of her frantic heart all the way down in her stomach.
I waited impatiently to say or do anything else as the others shuffled out of the room at what seemed like an incorrigibly slow pace. My mind was too chaotic, the absolutely possessive aggression I felt entirely too foreign.
Careful control was an integral part of my life. Every day, every moment, I was watched for weakness. Thanks to my late father, I’d learned very early on that emotion was one of the easiest ways to expose one. But now, having watched that asshole put his hands on Alex, as well as I’d maintained control on the outside, internally, I was madness. Soul-sucking, mind-altering, life-changingly mad.
“Relax, little one,” I told Alex, even
as my own adrenaline seemed to surge harder.
She nodded as I slid my hand from her stomach and over to her hip, clenching the flesh with my fingertips so hard she gasped.
Immediately, I released her and tucked my face into the hollow where her neck met her collarbone. “I’m sorry,” I said. It was, perhaps, the first time I’d ever felt the urge to apologize in my life. But I’d brought her to this place, into a world where entitled men came in concentrated droves, and in that moment, I hated it. I wanted her innocence back. I wanted everything that touched her to be gold.
“It’s all right,” she whispered shakily, her hand coming up slowly to hover just above my hair. I could feel it there, feel the way her whole body trembled as she fought with herself over whether to touch me or not.
“Do it,” I whispered. It was half plea, half order, and as her hand finally settled there, digging into the sweat-dampened shoots of hair, I found myself hoping it was the first that persuaded her.
She was so sweet, so perfect, so everything a man like me didn’t deserve. But it didn’t matter if I was good for her or not, I needed her to be mine. Arousal roared down the back of my spine and made me growl. I slid my hands down her sides, over the round curves of her ass, and down the backs of her thighs and in.
The hot air from her gasp of surprise grazed my cheek as I lifted, pulling her legs around my hips, and took three long strides to push her back against the wall.
My cock rubbed desperately at the apex of her thighs, fighting to free itself from the clothing barrier between us.
“Matt,” she said. Her voice was delicate, pure, and just as eager as my cock was. She wants me.
Even after seeing me for exactly what I am, she wants me.
I rocked my hips forward and ground across the sensitive clit at the top of her pussy.
“You want me inside you, don’t you?” I taunted with a question meant as a statement.