Page 21 of No Redemption

“Not at all,” he says, shaking his head as he holds the papers out toward me. “That is what I was able to find out. I’ll apologize now, it’s not a lot of information, but it’s enough to go off of. MXB Ent is just a parent company that owns only one other company: The Scarlett Letter.”

“The Scarlett Letter?” I stare at him blankly.

“It’s a club in the city. Apparently an extremely exclusive one at that. I couldn’t find anything about them other than that they are privately owned and they offer memberships; you can’t just apply.”

“What kind of club?” When I ask, his face falls.

“I can’t say for certain, Mrs. Ashford, but based on my research and talking to one of my colleagues, it’s most likely a gentleman’s club.”

“With $250,000 membership fees?” My hand falls from where I was holding it up with the papers. Paul shrugs and sits back down in his chair.

“That’s quarterly so we’re looking at a million dollar membership fee. Rich people,” he says around a bite of sandwich, “play by very different rules, Mrs. Ashford.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter as I look at the paper again. “Thanks, Mr. Pearfort. I’ll be in touch if I have any other questions.”

He nods. “Sorry there isn’t more information, but that paper does have the address on it.”

“Address?” My ears perk up.

“To the club or at least their office.”

“Thanks,” I say again, smiling before heading back outside to my car.

I stare at the address on the piece of paper, typing it in my GPS. It pulls up the street view and from the outside, it’s just a very plain brick building downtown. I look around the area. There are a few restaurants and bars and several offices. Nothing seems out of place. It certainly doesn’t look like a high-end gentleman’s club… not that I would really have any clue what one looked like.

I just can’t imagine Dane going to one. I never told him not to, never told him not to look at porn either; it was just something he offered up to me. He told me that he not only found it offensive and degrading, but that the only way he could get off was to thoughts of me. I was flattered at the time, but Mads’ comment earlier comes back to me. Maybe I was just being naive, or maybe I wanted to believe that Dane was so different from all the other men I’d met.

Would I be angry if Dane had told me he was going to a gentleman’s club? I try to think it through, but it feels impossible to now. Maybe it’s not just naked women dancing on poles for tips; maybe it’s a secret society like he was a member of in college.

I put my car into gear and make the short trip back to the house. I walk upstairs to our shared bedroom, pausing outside the doorway briefly. I still can’t bring myself to sleep in this room after what happened in here. My fingers linger on the doorway as I take a step inside and let out a shaky breath.

“You can do it,” I say to myself softly as I take another few steps inside and head toward the closet. I run my fingers over Dane’s clothes slowly, bringing the sleeve of one of his jackets to my nose and inhaling. It still smells like him.

Before I can spiral into a ball of tears on the floor in a pile of his clothes again, something I’ve only done a handful of times in the last few weeks which is why I stay out of here, I walk to my side of the closet. I look through my dresses, pulling several out and tossing them aside until I find the one I’m looking for. It’s a thin material of tiny little silver metal pieces. The straps are barely there. The neckline swoops down low and the back even lower. It sits just above the small of my back and hangs down to about mid-thigh. It’s beyond sexy. I had bought it to wear on a birthday trip Dane and I had planned for his thirty-fifth a few years back, but the trip ended up getting canceled at the last minute and the dress was pushed to the back of my closet.

I pull it out, holding it up to my body. I haven’t worn anything this revealing in years. Dane preferred a more subtle sexy look on me and I agreed with him. This dress was something I would have worn when I was nineteen and heading out to a club in the city. But considering that’s exactly what I plan on doing tonight, it’s the perfect dress.

10

MADS

“Declan, why don’t you show our very esteemed guests around, give them the private VIP tour.” I nod at Declan, my director of operations, as I introduce him to the Tokyo team.

“Absolutely, Mr. Bishop. Gentlemen, pleasure to have you joining us tonight. Right this way.” Declan gestures with his arm as he flashes a grin at the guests.

“Gentlemen, I’ll catch up with you a little later once our VIP table is ready.”

I excuse myself and walk back toward my office. My brother Foster already did his due diligence with our new business partners from Tokyo in the boardroom. Now it’s my turn to give them a night they’ll never forget at my private club.

I bought The Scarlett Letter when I was barely old enough to drink and within two years, I turned it into one of the most exclusive clubs in Chicago. By the time I’d owned it for five years, not only was it ten times more profitable than when I bought it, but we have the most exclusive membership list that is more secure than Fort Knox. We’re talking every high-end billionaire, politician, sports figure, or celebrity you can think of wants to be on this list, but we are very selective in whom we allow to join. We value privacy and discretion above all else. Just because you can afford to pay the million-dollar annual membership fee doesn’t mean you will be automatically accepted.

I pull my private stash of scotch from the shelf in my office and pour myself a finger. I welcome the burn as I sit back in my chair. I close my eyes, trying to savor the taste, but every time I try to focus on the flavor or anything else, my mind instantly takes me back to the way Emery tastes. My cock grows firm against my thigh as I remember the way her body convulsed in my bed. The way her pussy soaked my face. I kick myself, thinking about how quickly I allowed our encounter to end. I should have made her stay the night, had my fill of her, and then sent her on her way in the morning, but I couldn’t trust myself being in close proximity for that amount of time. I was already so drunk with lust I was ready to tell her everything, to demand she stay forever. Her scent lingered on my bedsheets, leaving me intoxicated all over again even after she left.

My phone buzzes on my desk, interrupting my fantasy, and my eyes fly open.

“Hey, Rick, what’s up?”

“Got a little situation out here, boss.” Ricky, my head of security at the club, says into the phone.

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