Page 9 of Daughter of a Monster

“There are currently twenty-three people inside, not including the staff.”

She falls into step with me as we walk through the crowd which parts, allowing us through with ease. A few people call out in greeting. I smile and wave, yelling back to some of them, but I don’t stop.

“Anyone I know?”

Darla starts rattling off the names of various well-known figures of the community but there’s only one name I’m wanting to hear so I talk over her.

“Anderson?”

She nods as the bouncer opens the door into the private area. Each of my clubs has one. It’s what they’re most known for. Gaining entrance is strictly invite-only. The exclusivity creates appeal for the clientele I wish to attract. The ones who want to hide in darkness. The ones who don’t want their true selves shown to the world.

I plaster on a smile, ready to greet everyone in the room. I know them all by name. It’s my job. Anderson is sitting at one of the tables, a scowl on his face.

“Things not going your way?” I laugh as I clasp his shoulder.

“For years I’ve been trying to get a seat at one of these games and now that I have, you’re robbing me blind.” He discards his cards with a forced chuckle.

He knows he doesn’t belong here. He knows that law enforcement are usually denied any sort of entry regardless of their allegiance. It’s too much of a risk. But Anderson is unique. I want something from him.

Dragging over a chair, I sit beside him as the rest of the table completes the hand. It’s a casual game, one not needing to conform to any rules or regulations other than my own.

“How much are you down?” I lean back, resting my hands behind my head but he just laughs.

“You don’t want to know.”

He’s been coming for months and has managed to rack up quite the tab. If it was anyone else, I would have stopped it long ago, but there’s something I need from this man, and if the debt alone isn’t enough, there’s always the footage of his patronage, which I’m sure he wouldn’t want released.

I jerk my head toward the exit. “Come for a walk.”

His eyes flit to mine and then to my head of security standing at the back of the room. “Is there a problem?”

Shaking my head, I get to my feet, placing my hand on his shoulder and applying just enough pressure that he knows I’m serious. “No problem. Just thought it was about time we had a little talk. There’s something I need your help with.”

There is no blood on my hands when I return. Although it’s not always the case, it’s the way I prefer. I find that money and fear of losing status is a better motivator. A threat to the ego strikes more fear than a blow to the body. Less obvious too. I stride through the crowds, giving a cursory glance to the scantily clad dancers writhing around in metal cages, and the throngs of people moving in beat to the music. The scent of sweat mixes with the scent of alcohol. I despise it. I despise everything about it. But it is the role I’ve chosen to play.

There’s a girl in the center of the dance floor who catches my eye. She stands out even though she’s surrounded by people. She’s lost in a world of her own, a faint smile on her face as she sways, hands lifted in the air, body drenched in perspiration.

She reminds me of, Miss Berkley, the girl I hired from the dance studio earlier in the day. I wasn’t prepared for her. I’d thought of her as nothing more than something to be used, a tool to exact my revenge. But the way she’d danced, the way she’d shown such passion and emotion reminded me she was her own person. It didn’t hurt that she was fucking stunning either. Her eyes flashed when she’d lifted her chin in defiance and spoke out over that bitch of an instructor. I couldn’t help but admire it. But there was also something broken about her.She reminded me of a damaged doll. Something tattered and torn from life itself. For the briefest of moments, I wanted to take her in my arms and shield her from what was about to happen.

But I can’t think that way.

It would put everything I’m working toward at risk.

My role is to be the villain in her life. Not the savior.

The girl on the dance floor opens her eyes and catches my gaze. She smiles playfully, dipping her chin and battering her eyelashes. Crooking her finger, she signals for me to come to her. For a moment, I consider it. Maybe it would do me some good to lose myself in her for a few moments. The girl is obviously eager and she’s beautiful. Maybe if I allowed myself the release of her, it would help me to forget the sensations that surged through me at the sight of Miss Berkley.

But in the end, I turn away and stride toward the door, pleased to be outside in the fresh night air. There are other things I need to do.

“Everything okay?” Barrett, my head of security follows me dutifully.

“Give me the keys.” I hold out my hand.

Barrett fishes them out of his pocket.

“You can have the rest of the night off,” I say to him.

“But sir, I think you should—”

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