Page 4 of Reclaiming His Soulmate

She stepped into the lobby, which buzzed with activity. Members loved the club’s special event nights, even if they couldn’t participate for one reason or another. Those were the busiest nights each month.

Clarissa greeted several people as she strolled across the lobby to the huge double wooden doors leading into the club. A massive mountain of a man smiled and opened one of the doors for her. Travis “Tiny” Daultry was a former professional football player and now the head of security for the club and the compound. He once told her he acquired his nickname as a joke when he was a baby since he’d weighed thirteen pounds at birth. God bless his mother for having a natural delivery.

“Good evening, Ms. James. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hi, Tiny. How’s your grandmother doing?” she asked as she removed the long, lightweight coat that covered her new fet-wear. The security guard didn’t even blink at her risqué outfit, but she wasn’t offended at all. In her early forties, Clarissa worked hard to keep her body in shape for the roles she took. Almost all of The Covenant’s staff had seen her and the other subs wearing far less clothing or absolutely nothing during their tenures there, so they were used to it.

The big man’s grin broadened. “She’s doing well as always. Can you believe she wants me to take her skydiving for her ninetieth birthday this April?”

“Really? Wow! Good for her.”

“Yup. She said that if President George Bush could do it at ninety, so could she.”

Clarissa chuckled. “Well, better her than me. You couldn’t pay me to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.”

“That’s what my dad said when she invited him to jump with us. She stuck her tongue at him and called him chicken. I swear, the woman is a hoot.”

“She sure sounds like it. I hope I’m just like her when I hit ninety, God willing, but I’ll find somewhere safe on the ground to celebrate.”

“If I’m still around, too, I’ll expect an invite.” He gestured for her to enter the club. “Anyway, have a good time tonight. There’s still plenty of time before things start—you have about forty minutes.”

“Thanks.”

After passing the door he held open for her, she turned left and entered the stairwell to the locker rooms. She greeted several more people in the women’s lounge as she put her coat, purse, and phone in a locker—no electronic devices were allowed inside the club. She then swapped her high heels for ballet slippers, which most subs wore unless they preferred to go barefoot. Since only plastic bottles of water were allowed in the pit, as the downstairs play area was called, and the garden, which was in a new wing upstairs, no one had to worry about broken glass, except in the bar area. However, the staff meticulously cleaned up spills or broken glass to protect the submissives.

Leaving the locker room, she returned to the bar where numerous Doms and subs milled around, chatting. Several smiled and waved at her, while others greeted her with a hello and small talk. She acknowledged each person, referring to the Doms by the title they preferred, while she eyed her surroundings, trying to spot Luna. Not seeing her, Clarissa moved through the crowd and accidentally bumped into a man, knocking herself off balance. “Oh, excuse me, Sir.”

He grasped her arm to steady her. “Hello, Clarissa.”

Oh shit.It wasn’t as if she didn’t know Master Mitch and the other two owners would be there that night, but she was still surprised to run into him—literally.

“Good evening, Master Mitch,” she said sweetly.

The handsome, dark-haired man, who was only a few years younger than her, gently tugged on her elbow, drew her to the side, away from everyone else, and lowered his voice. “Listen, I know you’re signed up for tonight’s event. I’m warning you right now—if you cause a scene like last time, you’ll be banned from the club. Understand?” His blue eyes glared at her, appearing as cold as ice.

Her jaw dropped, and her head snapped back at his hardened tone and words. Even though he was a Dom through and through, it was rare for Master Mitch to be that stern and serious without reason. Usually, it was his cousin Ian who made every submissive in the club shiver with apprehension with his unyielding authority as the head Dom. She thought she’d been forgiven for her actions after her public punishment and hadn’t had any issues with the owners since so she had no idea what prompted his threat. It was like he almost expected her to cause another scene. “What? I?—”

His expression grew harder. “Is. That. Understood, subbie?”

“Y-yes, Sir, I understand.”

“Good. Remember that in a few minutes.”

He released her arm, spun around, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Clarissa gaping after him.What the hell?

Okay, so she had been out of control at the first Spectacular. But it wasn’t really her fault. Landon had been there, and a stroke of Fate paired them up. Seriously. What were the chances of that happening so soon after their divorce while she still licked her wounds? At least she didn’t have to fret about a repeat tonight since Landon was in New Mexico. The Covenant’s owners had nothing to worry about.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. She still had time to kill before the event started, and when she spotted a few submissive friends standing together, she headed in that direction. As much as she wanted to have a drink right then, shenever had alcohol before playtime because sometimes it upset her stomach. The last thing she needed in the middle of a scene was to puke on some poor Dom’s shoes.

Chapter Four

Landon

Thank God for the vast expanse and thick crowd separating them. Clarissa still hadn’t spotted him from across the balcony that circled the second floor and overlooked the pit below. Landon watched as the club’s manager pulled her aside for a moment. He could see her face, and she was shocked by whatever Mitch said. It was probably a similar warning to the one he gave Landon a short time ago—get into a shouting match with his ex-wife in the middle of the club or cause any other chaos, and he’d be banned from The Covenant. The owners didn’t care who you were, how much money you had, and what connections you had—if you screwed up, especially more than once, a suspension or expulsion was in your future.

Damn, Clarissa looked gorgeous. She always had and always would, in his opinion. He’d already seen some of her earlier movies before working on their first production together and thought she was a phenomenal and stunning actress. Pictures of her on the silver screen, the internet, and the front covers of tabloids in the market checkout aisles never did her justice,though. One needed to be in her presence to really see and appreciate Clarissa James’s beauty. The woman lit up an entire room whenever she walked in.

In all their time together, he never heard her act snobbish or be mean to anyone, including the paparazzi and blue-collar workers she came across, as some other celebrities could. Of course, if someone gave her a valid reason to be pissed, she would unleash the hounds of hell on them—himself included. But it was rare for that side of her to emerge. The public adored her, and she always remembered where she came from and how she was once a tiny fish in the vast ocean that was Hollywood. Landon had seen her take several actors and actresses under her tutelage and mentor them, asking for nothing else in return but hard work and for them to pay it forward. In fact, she served on the Screen Actor’s Guild board for several years and was still active in numerous charities that she’d been involved in long before Landon met her. She was the most generous and humble woman he’d ever known, except when it came to him as of late. Hopefully, he could change that tonight.

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