Page 28 of Devoured
CHAPTER 8
Roland
By ten p.m. the Dahlia District was roaring. The club members were spread throughout the club, the gorgeous servers sitting on their laps or perched beside them, some even kneeling at their feet. In the lounge, four servers were surrounding one slightly paunchy club member. The five of them threw back shots of Jägermeister. Once they were done, some of the servers nodded at me, acknowledging and accepting my presence. Kendall was on the stage belly dancing, the coins on her belt jingling on her hips in an illustrious melody. She made eyes at me from the stage, but I wasn’t interested. I was there to observe, giving the club a chance to convince me that it didn’t need any serious changes.
And, besides, my eyes were only for Iris.
Dressed in black leather pants tight against her legs and a black bra with a fishnet shirt over it, her tattoos were vibrant dashes of color underneath. A winged insect, a butterfly or a moth, spread its wings on her chest, with a human rib cage painted underneath where Iris’s own bones would be. Her eight-inch platforms boots with twelve-inch heels were intimidating, making her tower over every person she came near. Except me.
But I watched from afar, in the lounge. The way she moved from club member to club member, eyeing them, looking down on them as if they were mere mortals and she was a creature sent from the hells to wreak havoc on the earth, was mystifying. Watching her stick her spike heel into a club member’s leg, the shocked look on his face when the dash of pain coursed through him, matched with the knowing smile she returned. I fucking loved it.
“Price,” a familiar male voice said. I turned to see David Mills, an acquaintance of mine, shorter in stature but always well-dressed and agreeable. It had been a long time.
“Mills,” I said. We shook hands. I gestured at the bottle of vodka in the chiller. “Can I interest you in a shot?”
“I’m never too old for that,” he joked. Mills was ten years my senior, but could never shake bringing up his age when we were socializing. I poured us a round. “So this must mean the rumors are true then. You’re taking over the Dahlia District?”
I handed him a shot glass. “It’s official.”
“Another Vanish, so close to the Sage City location?”
The stupid man. He didn’t suspect that I had another goal up my sleeve. “Another brand, actually,” I said. “Top one percent only.”
“One percenters, eh?” he asked. “Isn’t that what the Dahlia District already is?”
“Too niche. For the sex-craved.” I shrugged. “I want more.”
“Aren’t we all sex-craved maniacs though?” I agreed when it came to me, but I knew the doors would open up even further, if the market knew that this place wasn’t simply a high-class entertainment brothel, but a club for every indulgence imaginable.
“You and me,” I said. I lifted the shot glass. “The sex-craved maniacs.”
“Of course,” he said. “To the Dahlia District’s future.”
Not my choice of toasts. “To business,” I corrected.
We clinked glasses and drank the shots. After taking shots regularly for years, it was like drinking water. I didn’t taste it anymore. Mills, on the other hand, grimaced.
“Speaking of business,” he mumbled, “I’ve got a nightclub in New York City.”
“I didn’t know you dabbled.”
He threw a dismissive hand in front of his face. “It was a last chance deal. Anyway, most of my business leaves me here.” He glanced around, his eyes dilating as he took in the various gorgeous women. We both knew he was lying. He could leave the area if he wanted, but hewantedto be here, close to the Dahlia District, where life wasn’t so lonely, and yet the drama never followed him home. “But I figure for the right price, I’d be willing to sell.”
“Are you offering me your club?” I asked, a humorous edge to my tone.
“For the right price,” he smacked me in the back. “You should think it over for me. Give it some thought, you know?”
He told me about the place: The club was a small one, but in a prime location in the heart of the city, a place I could easily brand into a new Departure location. But it was failing. As it turned out, Mills was not interested in revamping a nightclub, so he was lucky that I was always on the search for my next project. A location bringing me to the opposite side of the country was exactly the kind of change I needed.
Iris’s voice cut through the club, interrupting Mills’s words. “Did I say I was interested in your sniveling crybaby fest?” she hissed. Both Mills and I turned to watch. A man, a foot shorter than Iris, cowered as she pinched the back of his collar. “You might as well waste my time in the Terrariums.” He stumbled to the ground and she snapped her fingers. “I haven’t got all day, Pee.”
“Pee?” I asked.
“Says it’s short for Sweetie Pie. I guess the ‘P’ in pie? Sweetie Pie when he’s good, Pee when he’s bad. Maybe it has to do with urine?” Mills shrugged. “To each his own.”
“Have you ever tried her out?”
Mills shook his head. “She scares the shit out of me.”
