Page 41 of Roulette: The Madam

I would hit my target a hundred times before I rested. Kiara wasn’t it. Kiara was business. Chino was the one with a red dot on his chest.

Her guilt would swallow her alive. It was already eating away at her beauty. She wasn’t as pretty as I remembered. Her misconduct would etch away at her slowly.

The fact that she’d crossed a woman who’d been nothing short of good to her would imprison her longer than any punishment of mine. Every time I walked into the same room as Kiara, her stomach and heart would both sink. I’d always intimidate her—physically, mentally, emotionally, financially, andmorally.

Putting it lightly, she wasn’t fucking with me and never would. That was punishment enough. Being a basic bitch was the closest thing to living in the pits of hell and Kiara had a permanent residency.

“Leave the consequences of your personal issues on the other side of my doors. I’m not going to pacify your feelings. You’re a foul bitch, but that goes without saying. Today, I amhere for Roulette, the exotic strip club, not Roulette, the best motherfucking woman in all of Clarke. Frankly, the two simply aren’t the same. Sit down.”

Slowly, she lowered her ass into the chair she’d risen from. One by one, she emptied her bag and hands of the contents that once littered the table. With a bowed head, she nodded and picked up the pen in front of her.

“Noted.”

“Good. Now, as I was saying– Kiara, we’re reopening the doors in fourteen days. Short notice, but completely manageable. I have two requests.”

“I’m listening.”

“More exclusive. More elevated. I want it to all feel different the moment they walk in. By the time they leave, I want their pockets turned inside out and their credit card companies sending verification texts to their phone for the absurd charges.”

“Understood.”

I picked up the iPad from the table and unlocked the screen. With a few taps, I gained access to the files I’d been collecting during my time in St. Catana. A few were headed in Kiara’s direction.

“I have designed a new floorplan and order of business. I am sending over the notes now. Staff. Attire. Dancers. Private rooms. Entry. High rollers lounge. The entire workup. Check your email,” I requested.

“I have it.”

“Great. Let that marinate. As for everyone else,” I breathed out, placing the iPad against my chest. “Welcome back.”

Cheering erupted in the room. The louder it grew, the more confidence I acquired for the reopening of Roulette. This time, however, it would be impenetrable. Chemistry and Psalms designed a system that would deepen the analysis of everyonewho applied for employment or submitted an application to become a member.

We were no longer open to the public. It didn’t matter how long your pockets were. We would be a referral-based establishment. Two referrals would get an application sent to your preferred method of contact. After being thoroughly vetted, you were free to choose your membership tier and join the fleet of men ready to spend their life’s earnings chasing a fantasy that would never be their reality.

I pressed my index and thumb together to silence the room. The cheering came to a screeching halt. Order was restored in the room. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Kiara’s voice rang out.

“Madam–”

“Yes?”

“This floorplan– it’s a completely different build out.”

“Your point, Kiara?”

“We’d need– We’d need a full reconstruction.”

“So, we’ll have it. Seven days maximum.”

“Okay. I’ll find a crew who ca–”

“It’s already been done. There’s plenty more for you to focus on during those seven days. Wardrobe, furniture, creating the list of our most valuable clients to get in here on the day we reopen, making Roulette the best kept secret in Clarke, and whatever else is in that set of files I sent you.”

“Yes. Yes. Of course. The construction was the only section that had me worried with our fourteen day window. Now that I know that’s squared away, I can breathe.” She exhaled a shaky breath.

Bitch, that breath in your lungs is a fucking gift after what you’ve done. Be thankful.

“Hmph.”

I shifted my weight as I pushed the negativity from my brain. Today wasn’t about Kiara and neither was it about Chino.

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