Page 162 of Wicked Believer

Page List

Font Size:

If the complimentary gift baskets are any indication, this floor’s dedicated to aftercare, so newly arriving guests are eased into the experience before they decide which of the upper floors they want to explore. The contents of the aftercare baskets, lined on a table against the wall, are thoughtfully curated—gel packs, scented candles, essential oils, aloe vera, massage tools, soft blankets, snacks—anything our guests might want or need after their play.

Beside the interior elevator, a few of the performers and sex workers Azmodeus hired monitor the VIP guest list. They sit at a registration table filled with bowls of multicolored bracelets. There are color coded labels on each one, indicating that the wearer is open to the corresponding kind of play.

I reach for the one that says “impact” before Azmodeus swats my hand away.

“Not so fast, Charlotte. I have a special one for you.”

He tips his chin at one of the workers, and they lean behind the table, removing a closed velvet box before passing it to me.

When I open it, a Tiffany diamond bracelet glitters up at me.

“Consider it an early wedding present.” Az smiles as I thank him, plucking it out of the box and gently slipping it onto my wrist. “Everyone here knows thatthismeans you belong to Lucifer. No one puts their hands on my brother’s bride without his permission.”

“Except you, of course?” I nod to where he cradles my wrist.

Az smirks, and a sudden burst of lust rushes through me.

Like he’s helping me “get ready” in more ways than one.

I clench my thighs together, and his crooked grin widens. “I’m the exception that proves the rule, considering tonight your sins are mine.” He releases my hand, circling me, then grips both my shoulders frombehind and leans down to whisper into my ear. “My brother’s waiting for you, Charlotte. Best run along to Daddy.” He smacks my ass, and I yelp, but when I turn and glance back, he’s gone.

I frown.

That little disappearing act of his is starting to get annoying.

Slowly, I make my way toward the staircase, allowing the party’s atmosphere to wash over me. Dark ambient trip-hop plays in the background, the repetitive beat making the lights and atmosphere feel almost hypnotic, spellbinding.

I pass several couples in various stages of aftercare as I climb the first-floor staircase. There are a few well-known celebrities I’ve met at some of the galas and philanthropic events Lucifer and I frequently attend, and I think I spot a few of the city’s politicians, who are—discreetly—on Apollyon’s unofficial payroll, and who would probably prefernotto be seen. Hence, the masquerade masks.

Everybody who’s anybody in this city is here.

Just as trapped under Lucifer and his siblings’ spell as I am.

When I reach the second floor, my sense of direction inside the penthouse leaves me. The floor’s been divided into new rooms with several roped-off sections and no indication of where our usual furniture should be. Like I’m lost within a tempting labyrinth.

A labyrinth of pleasure.

Azmodeus is a true artist when it comes to parties.

Play equipment I’ve never seen before, curated specifically for tonight, has been spread throughout to assist in each floor’s theme.

I wander farther inside, and a masked woman to my right moans from where her play partner drips a bit of candle wax across her. I can’t be one-hundred-percent certain, but something about the breathy tone of her moan seems ...

My eyes widen.

Evie.

I flush and turn away quickly.

Watching her feels like a violation, even though she’s out in the open and wearing one of Azmodeus’s wristbands that says she’s interested in voyeurism.

I head the other way. This floor’s dedicated to sensory play based on the array of feather ticklers, impact play tools, and blindfolds lying about. Various hired sex workers prowl the corridors, ready to engage in pickup play with any willing guests.

They smile and watch me as I pass, their relaxed, half-lidded gazes making them look hungry for attention, but as soon as they see the diamond bracelet on my wrist, they step aside, allowing me to continue on freely.

Azmodeus was right.

Everyone heredoesknow I belong to Lucifer.