Page 21 of Filthy Sex (Five Points' Mob Collection 4)

Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I smirked to myself, satisfied by the success of today's plan. Something I'd been working on since Declan and I had learned about the Sparrows from Caroline Dunbar—a dirty Fed.

We'd had several lackeys working to bring down Coullson, and in all honesty, that the fucker had picked Frederica would give us even more leverage than we'd be getting with a regular hooker.

Barely refraining from rubbing my hands together, I focused on the club once I pushed open the doors.

Even at this time of the day, it was busy.

The rich bastards who frequentedElementalweren’t worrying about their nine-to-five jobs, that was for fucking sure. These were trust fund brats with nothing better to do with their days than waste their ancestors’ hard earned cash.

Cunts.

I hated this type of place and the type of person who used it. Waste of space morons with their minds high on blow and their cocks riddled with Chlamydia.

Pulling a face, I stared over our new domain. A domain that contained at least one person whoshouldbe worrying about his nine-to-five.

Elemental, on the surface, was a regular club. There was a large expanse of space where people were dancing. It was dark, pitch black, with strobe lights that lit the place up, and a DJ played earache-inducing tracks that had everyone twerking like they were in a strip show. I saw a few people sniffing from small bottles—poppers—and saw others snorting white marching powder—coke.

The folks here were still dancing from the night before.

That was the kind of placeElementalwas, a modern dayStudio 54.

The party never stopped until you passed out.

But this didn’t interest me.

This was all for show.

Around the back of the room, there was a low lying wall that cut off the dance floor from a corridor. It meant I could walk around the atrium without being accosted with high dancers, and because I wasn’t in the best of moods, that stopped any bloodshed.

For the moment.

I knew that the ‘Fire Exit’ sign led to an inner courtyard. The health inspector saw what they were supposed to see—a short path that led to another door which took people out to the street.

Me? I saw the wall opposite and registered that the arched door which looked like it had been bricked up forty years ago, was a front.

I moved over to it, tapped on it once, and Forrest pulled it open for me.

Tipping my chin at him, I stared over the real reason people came toElemental, and the real reason why people spent tens of thousands of dollars on becoming a member.

It was a fancy sex club.

As I scanned the scenery, nothing impressed me that much.

But maybe I was just fucking jaded.

The place was segmented into three, and truthfully, I couldn’t deny it was a neat set up, especially as, from my vantage point, I could see what was going down in each part and could make my decision about which one I wanted to approach.

Each had a stage at the head of their section, but the one to my left had a string quartet on there while some burlesque dancer messed around with a bunch of fans. The audience used chaise longues to watch the show, lounging around like they were fucking Ancient Romans as they sucked on ornate bubbler pipes that had a haze hovering below the ceiling like a dense smog.

The middle stage had a large movie screen on it, except, there was nothing playing—the action was going down in front. A large bed housed four women, each of whom were going down on each other in a kind of human centipede formation that held no interest to me.

I didn’t even tip my head to the side or squint harder.

I never had liked doing shit in public.

What I preferred required privacy.

The seats in that segment reminded me of a vintage cinema, red velvet, upright, and the viewers weren’t eating popcorn, that was for fucking sure. I had no idea what they were munching on, and neither did I want to goddamn know.

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