Chapter 22
RAINA
The last of my bags rest at the bottom of the main stairs.
It feels like I’ve lived here for much longer than a few weeks.
I’m taking home an extra bag filled with clothes and lingerie and shoes Alex, Vincent, and Max gave me as gifts, each a token of their affection, of their attraction and appreciation.
It’s not just the experience gained that brings a smile to my face, it’s the relationship we’ve somehow built in this place.
“Looks like you’re ready for a new adventure,” Deanna says.
I whirl around to find her in the lobby, seated on one of her hard-shell suitcases, legs crossed and stuffed into a pair of high-heeled leather boots. The mink she’s wrapped in looks real, and I feel sorry for the creature that died for Deanna’s plush comfort.
“And you’re still here,” I mutter.
She points a thumb over her shoulder and smiles. “My car is on its way. I’ve got a rich lover who’s eager to keep me busy until the next Haus season.”
“Well, at least you’ll be busy.”
“Yes, I will. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a Brunei prince hooked while you entertain other men here?” Deanna laughs.
“No idea whatsoever,” I respond with a sigh. “That’s not really my cup of tea.”
“Oh, right, because you’re so much better than me.”
“No, I’ve just made different choices,” I calmly say. “I don’t think I’m better than you, Deanna. We were never in competition for anything in this life.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” she scoffs and rolls her eyes. “But all is fair in love and war, and I suppose you’ve won this round.”
“I’m not sure I understand—”
“Spare me! You won, okay? You got your grubby, chubby, little fingers on Alex, Max, and my darling Vincent. Congratulations. But beware, it’s not going to end well,” she hisses.
“In my line of work, I meet a lot of people, all kinds of people, and I know your species all too well, Raina. You’re not cut out for those three. They’ll use you up and toss you aside.”
My stomach is tied up in knots. Part of me fears she may be right, another part of me wants me to fight her with everything I’ve got.
But as I glance down at her suitcases, I’m reminded of a very simple, unassailable truth: She’s going away, somewhere far away from me.
I’m headed back to Portland with Alex, Vincent, and Max, who have given me everything and more than I thought I deserved.
Deanna is already dead wrong. And I think, deep down, she knows it. She just can’t voice it because her ego won’t allow it.
“I think we each carve our own path in life,” I tell her. “The choices we make, the people we surround ourselves with, they all lead us precisely where we need to be.”
“Thank you for the wisdom.” Deanna rolls her eyes. “But if that’s what you tell yourself to sleep at night, whatever. I’m happy with my choices. My choices are taking me to Aruba for the weekend.”
“At what cost, though?”
“Whatever,” she snaps. “Have your fun while it lasts, you fat bitch.” She gets up, red-faced and furious, but Alex’s voice rings out, stopping her dead in her tracks.
“You know, we held off on firing you in order to respect our contracts,” he says.
“Alex!” Deanna gasps.
He walks out of the office, his hands in his pockets, casually half smiling as he looks at me. “I told you we’d take care of those bags for you, darling.”
“You did. I’m just eager to head back to Portland,” I reply. “There’s still the heaviest one upstairs for you, though. I saved the best for last.”
“Good,” he says, then looks at Deanna. “You’ve been warned one too many times, Deanna. It didn’t stick.”
“I’m entitled to my opinions even here!” she says.
“You’re not entitled to any disrespect toward other employees or collaborators of Haus of Sin, though,” Alex replies, the softness from his features melting away.
His gaze darkens, and his eyebrows furrow as he frowns.
“That is a clear breach of contract. This was your last season with us, Deanna. Our collaboration ends here.”
“I’m your best host. You can’t do that.”
“Oh, but I can. You’re not irreplaceable. I’ve made that clear more than once. Again, you wanted to call my bluff.”
“She’s too busy hating a woman who’s actually happy with herself and has everything,” Vincent chimes in as he joins us in the lobby.
Deanna tries to laugh it off. “What does Raina have that I could possibly want?”
“Me, for starters,” Vincent says, “plus respect, appreciation, and success. But here’s the thing, Deanna, Raina actually works hard for all of it.
You chose a different way, and now, you’re mad because a woman came along and showed you what you could’ve been, if only you hadn’t forsaken your soul and your dignity in the process. ”
Deanna shakes her head. “I don’t have to listen to any of this.”
“The door is right there,” Alex says. “You are not welcome at Haus of Sin anymore.”
She stares at him for the longest second, then Max.
She can’t even look Vincent in the eyes.
Her lower lip quivers as she looks at me, hatred burning bright green in her gaze.
I don’t hate her, but I can’t bring myself to wish her well either.
She’s the kind of person who hurts other people simply because she can.
“Good luck finding a replacement for the Fox,” Deanna says. “Your clients won’t like it, not one bit.”
“As it happens, we’ve got Sashi coming in from Tokyo next winter,” Max replies with a casual shrug. “You’ve heard of her, right? The White Fox of Tokyo’s Haus of Sin counterpart, Den of Fantasies?”
“You got Sashi?” Deanna almost whispers, the horror deeply imprinted upon her face as she realizes that she is and always was replaceable. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“She’ll be next winter’s sensation,” Vincent replies.
“It wasn’t easy getting her out of her Den of Fantasies contract, but she likes what we’ve been doing over here, and we offered her an enticing package,” Alex adds. “So yes, Deanna, as I said, pack your shit and go.”
Deanna is speechless.
If it weren’t for the raw hatred glaring from her eyes, all of it aimed directly at me, I’d almost feel sorry for her. Ever observant, Vincent puts his arm around my waist, pulling me close.
“You should’ve left Raina alone,” he tells Deanna. “All you had to do was try to be a decent human being. But you let your fragile ego get in the way. For such a successful dominatrix, I honestly expected you to have a bit more self-control.”
“Screw you, Vincent,”
“If anyone is to blame for your own undoing, it’s you,” he says.
Unceremoniously, Deanna grabs her two suitcases and rolls them out of the mansion.
I catch a glimpse of a Lincoln Town Car pulling up at the base of the front steps, a small Brunei flag flapping at the front.
That must be her ride, but Deanna looks nowhere near happy when the driver gets out to help her with the suitcases.
Max shuts the door behind her with an thud, then turns around to look at me and smile. “Nobody insults our woman without experiencing the consequences, Raina, nobody.”
“Wow, I can see that,” I mumble. “I didn’t think you’d let her go, not really.”
“She was never going to change,” Vincent says and plants a kiss on my temple. “And she overstayed her welcome. In business and in life, it’s better to cut ties with people who do more harm than good. We live by this.”
I slowly turn and wrap my arms around his hard waist. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”
He gazes at me softly, and his lips find mine. He tastes like coffee and honey.
“Are all the guests gone then?” I ask once we part.
“And the hosts,” Max replies.
“The service staff has orders to recheck every room and lock the place down, then leave before the end of the week,” Alex adds, “which means we should all get ready to head out, as well.”
Vincent looks at me. “I’ll go get that last suitcase from upstairs.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I suppose you’ll help me carry everything to my car, too?”
“Of course,” Alex replies, almost laughing. “Why would you even ask?”
“The hyper-independent version of me still struggles to relinquish control sometimes,” I say with a sheepish smile. “But see? I’m learning to let go of that. Baby steps, gentlemen, it’s going to be baby steps.”
Max takes a deep breath. “Relax, Raina. You don’t have to carry a single thing. The last thing we want is for those exceptionally capable hands of yours to suffer any sort of strain or injury weeks ahead of The Black Swan’s grand opening.”
I laugh until I catch the meaning behind his words, and then I freeze for a moment.
“Wait. Stop. Explain,” I say, my voice trembling slightly.
Max casually shrugs, a smile on his handsome face. “The head chef job is already yours. We’re expecting you to take over the kitchen as soon as Monday.”
“If you still want the job,” Alex adds with a raised eyebrow.