Page 5 of Gilded Lies

I step into an alcove where I stored my clipboard and phone so I could blend in with the crowd. I pick both up before continuing on toward the elevators. Notifications roll in when I turn it back on. A few are from different departments checking in about event details. I shoot off a couple answers and stop with my thumb over a missed call.

I recognize the Department of Corrections Victim Services number immediately. I don’t need to listen to the voice message. I knew the day was coming but with all the ball preparations I didn’t realize the man who abused me instead of caring for me is being released from jail so soon. Frankly, I thought I had a bit more time.

I take in a calming breath and release it slowly. He can’t touch me. I’m not a vulnerable teen anymore with no friends. Besides, he does not know where I am.

I take comfort in that and return my thoughts to the evening.

My phone buzzes again, this time with a message from the owner.

Fantastic job with the dancers. Expect a raise, Miss Lafleur.

I cringe inward, knowing I dodged a bullet. Yikes. “Good thing you didn’t catch me in the corner with three key bearers, then.”

Every person who has paid to be a member here carries a golden key of one version or the other inked into their skin, hence the name. They’ve paid handsomely to walk among the elite of society and the simple, yet intricate key tattoo gives them access to different areas of the Society. Nearly any fantasy they wish can come true here with their membership and it’s my job to make sure it happens——if it fits within our rules.

There are secrets about the Gilded Key not everyone is privy to. Key bearers are elite members of society outside these walls, but here their knowledge of the intimate workings of the Gilded Key Society is limited by design. To a key bearer, The Gilded Key Society is simply an opulent sex club.

But to know all the secrets one must be a key master——the highest rank within the Society. They make up the clandestine society within the sex club and hold the real power here in Seattle and our establishment in New Orleans. Empires rise from the depths of the Gilded Key Society. Thrones are built. And lost. Key masters are the ones who decide fates, unlock doors and control realms.

Those are the members of the Gilded Key Society who hold all the power.

And as of a few short months ago, I am among them. I went from being the scared abused girl without a home to someone who has the power to decide the fate of others.

I stroke the pad of my thumb over the key newly etched into the tender flesh of my arm. It was part of the hiring package as the Society’s new manager. One I cherish and value. I was wrong to mingle with the members. I know better and can’t risk my job. Besides, the way they strip key bearers and key masters of their membership is not something I want to experience.

I pause outside a locked area and raise my arm to the code readers. A black light caresses over my key, beneath the delicate flourishes of black and gold ink shines through a secondary level no unassisted human eye can detect.

The lock releases and I push through, letting the door silently close behind me as I push deeper into the Society’s upper offices.

High above Seattle’s city skyline only fantasies and sin exist. And this year I delivered both for our fifth annual Fall masquerade ball in spades. And almost fell victim to its power. I don’t know who those members are, but I am positive I’ve never seen themhere before. I would recognize that braid and their eyes. Their aura of power.

They are a sin against my soul waiting to happen. Up here, among the stars, only God and His angels can judge us. For one night out of the year, I pray no otherworldly being glimpses the debauchery taking place so close to heaven or we are all bound for hell.

Should I turn back and return to them? My step falters. My phone rings but I silence it, catching a glimpse of the key on my forearm.

No. I can’t. I can’t risk breaking the rules for a quick roll between the sheets.

My name can never touch the Golden Key Society book in this city. To enter any room, everyone must sign their name into a book stating they are willing participants. The club owners check over the signatures regularly. My boss would personally see me stripped of my key master status if he found out I broke Society rules.

The faint click of my heels against black marble echoes off the glass walls. Warm lights run along the edges of the ceiling and offer a sensual glow to the cool atmosphere.

Doors silently swoosh open and faintly snick closed as I make my way to the bank of elevators far away from temptation.

I’m going to remain a virgin for as long as I work here. But I don’t have a choice. The Golden Key Society has kept me hidden and I would be a fool to jeopardize my safety for a single night of fun.

Warm light clashes with cool blue as an elevator opens.

I step in, set on putting as much distance between me and three bad ideas.

“Evening, Ms. Lafleur.”

I offer a warm smile to a man in his thirties with kind blue eyes and neatly-combed blond hair. He’s in a black suit with gold tassels on his shoulders and a small name tag. “Mr. Carter. Good evening.”

The elevator attendant dips his head in greeting and automatically hits the button for the thirtieth floor of the building for me.

“Another late evening?”

“One more night, yes. But it is another successful year in the bag, Mr. Carter. Maybe I can get some sleep now.”

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