Page 5 of Dark Truths

A wicked gleam appears in my friend’s dark eyes. “That we do, boss. That we do.”

I don’t know what it is about tonight, but there’s something in the air that has me on edge and my nerves frayed. The feeling doesn’t hit me completely until I emerge from my office, freshly showered and dressed in a clean suit for tonight’s festivities. But with each step I take downstairs, the feeling intensifies. My eyes scan the crowd, the exits, every blind spot, looking for the source of the feeling, but find nothing. Still…I’ve learned to trust my gut feeling over the years. So, I signal a soldier at the bottom of the stairs.

“Have the men sweep the place,” I order him when he approaches. A look of hesitation crosses his face. I hate being questioned, even if it’s quietly and even more right now with the way I’m feeling. “Is that a problem?”

“No, boss,” he quickly answers, dropping his eyes to the floor. “I’ll have it done right away.”

That’s better.

“Report to Alexei when you’re done.”

“Yes, sir.”

I watch him go, remembering a time when I was him. A foot soldier no better respected than the dirt on the bottom of Igor’s shoe. Maybe that’s why the fat bastard has such a problem with me. When it came time to replace his second, Sergei chose loyalty over blood, promoting me rather than his brother. I don’t blame Sergei. Igor’s a waste of time and space. He thinks with his cock too much to be of any good use to conduct business. The day I put him away behind bars will feel good.

As soon as I sit in my chair, Ana, one of the few waitresses allowed to serve me, approaches with a swing in her hips and a sultry smile on her blood-red lips. “Good evening, Mr. Volkov,” she says in a seductive tone. “Would you like the usual?”

I peer up at her, fighting hard to ignore the tiny, raised hairs on the back of my neck. She’s not the cause of the feeling, but maybe she can help soothe it. “Bring me the bottle tonight, Ana.” Just before she leaves, I add, “And Ana? I expect to see you in my office after the show.”

A blush blooms on her cheeks. She’s a pretty girl with a platinum hair color you can only get from a bottle and big doe brown eyes. I don’t have favorites, but Ana is my usual go to when I need my brain to quiet down. Because outside of these walls, I have to remain focused and free of distractions. It’s a matter of life or death. “Yes, sir,” she purrs before bowing her head and leaving.

I glance from the time on my phone to the large glass box in front of me. Each show is slightly different, but all follow the same routine. The curtains are drawn, blocking the participants from being seen until it’s time to begin. Once it does…well, that’s when the fun really begins. Because the only rule in thePlaygroundis that there are no rules. Anything goes so long as participation is consensual.

Ana returns with my drink and a stowaway. Alexei has his arm draped across her shoulders and he leans down to whisper something in her ear that makes the girl giggle. He reluctantly lets her go so she can pour my drink, leaving the bottle as ordered. Alexei leans against my seat and wiggles his fingers at Ana as she turns to leave. “Bye-bye for now, sweet Ana. Be a good girl for our boss here later, and maybe I’ll reward you afterward.”

After Ana leaves, I turn to my second and meet his amused eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good at business.”

Alexei snorts and pushes off my chair to claim the one adjacent. “Well, maybe if you actually took care of the girl after she sucks your cock bone dry, I wouldn’t offer. But you know, if you need some pointers—”

“Did the men find anything?” I interrupt his monologue, not needing to hear another lecture from my second on the reasons why I sometimes just want a fucking blowjob without the girl expecting anything back. Call me an inconsiderate asshole or whatever, but the last thing I need is a girl getting her hopes up or forming emotional ties with me.

“Nothing but a full house,” Alexei answers, knowing when to push and when not to.

I believe him and trust that the men did their jobs; it’s their heads on the line if they didn’t. Still, the feeling lingers. I do my best to brush it off and ignore it by downing a glass of vodka to quell the restlessness. From my elevated seat, I’m able to seethe entire back room of thePlayground. It’s a large room, two stories tall, with a glass box the size of a small bedroom set in the middle on a pedestal, like a centerpiece on display. Private tables that resemble smaller versions of cabanas surround the box. While up above me on the second story rest the private rooms available for guests to use at any point before, during, or after the show.

As guests file in, I spy from the corner of my eye a guard approach Alexei and bend down to whisper something in his ear. Once alone, I meet my friend’s eyes with a raised brow and wait expectantly.

“It appears we have a special guest among the crowd tonight, Dimitri.”

“Who’s that?”

“A little angel,” he says with a wicked smile growing on his lips. “Gabriella DiAngelo is here.”

Well, this night just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

3

Gabriella

I’m not sure what to expect, but it certainly isn’t this.

A striking, beautiful woman stands center stage. She’s wearing only a white satin slip with thin spaghetti strips and a blindfold over her eyes. Although she may as well be wearing nothing. The material barely covers her rear, and her nipples stand out like twin headlights against the fabric while her jet-black hair falls like a straight curtain around her pale shoulders.

A trio of masked men circle her with slow intention, like a pack of predators would their prey.?One man, wearing a red skull with horns, reaches out and runs the back of his fingers down her bare arm. The girl gasps, her head moving in the direction of his touch before another man, this one wearing a gold skull with black lacing, does the same on her other arm. She twists toward him this time before the third man, wearing an all-black mask, steps forward from behind. He wraps his arm around her and grips her neck before he draws her back into his bare chest.

No one talks or gives direction to one another. They don’t need it. They move as one. Acting off each other’s motions with ease, like they’re communicating silently. It's truly mesmerizing to see how removing one sense enhances the intimacy and intensity of the other four. They control her pleasure. They know what she needs and how much. To surrender that level of trust to a man or in this woman’s case, three men, is captivating.

They strip her of her dress slowly, each strap slipping off her shoulder until finally gravity pulls it to the floor in a puddle. A naked woman’s body is nothing new to me, but it’s one thing to study it in class and another thing to see it worshiped in a different way entirely.

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