Chapter Four
Mason
“Welcome to the House of Payne,” I say to Phoenix, watching as his eyes take in the massive mansion in front of him.
His eyes sweep over the main house, a renovated mansion that used to be an old hotel, and I see his eyes widen.
It spans fifty thousand square feet and has lush green manicured foliage and state-of-the-art security.
It also basically has its own ecosystem, and I know the grand impression it leaves on newcomers.
It’s gorgeous, a fact I often forget because of how often I see it but something I’m reminded of whenever I bring new people to view it.
It doesn’t look like much on the outside beyond a location where rich people enjoy partying and drinking margaritas, but there’s so much more going on inside, a view few people get to witness because of its exclusivity.
Phoenix is a tall, dark, strong-looking man who would probably intimidate me if it weren’t for who I was. I don’t let anything frighten me. Fear is for cowards, and that’s something that was hammered into my head when I was a child.
It’s been essential to my survival.
It’s gotten me this far.
I’ve never heard of this man before tonight, but he has more money than nearly everyone in Boston combined. He values his privacy, and I can only imagine what would happen to the image he’s portrayed to the media if anyone discovered his association with my business.
They won’t. The House of Payne is known for its secrets, and making sure men like Phoenix can enjoy themselves away from prying eyes is one of our specialties.
“So, what exactly…?” he starts, his voice gruff before he clears his throat and straightens his back. “How would you describe a place like this, well…” the man looks embarrassed as if he’d never imagined he would find himself here.
“On the outside?” I finish for him. “A member’s club.”
At least, that’s what is written on our taxes.
“Oh.”
“Follow me. There’s more to be seen.” Business from clients like him is what makes the House of Payne thrive, and I’ll be damned if I let him slip through my fingers. I can already see revenue double.
“There are five stories,” I explain as we walk into the vast lobby. The furniture is custom-made, light and modern to hide the truth of what it’s all about. “We cater to exclusive, well-known families for the most part, some of whom can trace their wealth back centuries.”
Phoenix doesn’t blink at the first floor, with its hardwood-floor offices and meeting rooms. His ears perk at the main floor of the club on the second floor, with a steady stream of people dancing to the pulsing music.
On the third floor, I pause to indicate the private rooms and more play areas for our special guests.
I know by the look on his face that I have him right where I want him.
“How much does something like this cost?”
A common question. “Five hundred thousand a year.”
The numbers don’t seem to surprise him. He nods, probably because it won’t even dent his pockets.
“We are the best in the country. We have everything you could wish for. A bar, indoor tennis, outdoor golf, a pool, a spa, a lounge, and if there’s something you feel is missing, we accommodate our members as best we can.
Most of our members come here to network, conduct business, trade, and the like. ”
Phoenix smiles. “Is this a part of my membership fee?”
“All members can access this portion.”
“And the…?”
He’s eager to get down to business, and I won’t stop him. I gesture for him to follow me and move to the elevator. Phoenix looks around, eyes wide as if he’s doing something illegal. We are, but he doesn’t have to make it quite so obvious.
I would have thought a man of his status and caliber would be familiar with places like this.
Places that operate under the radar, right under people’s noses.
“Our exclusive members each receive a unique gold tattoo to access our lower levels.” I discreetly cover the keyboard, quickly punch in my code, and watch the doors close.
The elevator begins to descend. “It’s only visible under UV light, which the elevator knows how to scan.
The doors only open once the scan is complete.
There are four basement levels, only one of which is open to those with our exclusive memberships. ”
The elevator doors open. “Welcome to Mercy.”
Phoenix is submerged in a world of pleasure, and I watch as he takes in everything it offers. We don’t hide anything, nor do we pretend to be something we’re not. Which is why the open displays of sex in the front room are allowed, and in some cases, encouraged.
They are there to make sure anyone who walks in through those coveted doors knows what they’re getting into.
This is likely the only place in the world where they can be themselves. If fucking in a bar is their preference, then so be it. Not all men enjoy privacy. We cater to everyone.
Phoenix is at a loss for words. He’s probably never seen something like this. Women with pretty dresses hiked around their hips, eyes on him, realistic moans falling from their lips, and daring him to come closer.
“All members must be tested the same way the women are. Of all things, we promote safe sex.”
He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of unease flitting across his features. “Are all of these businessmen?”
“In one way or another.” I look ahead, as the soft singing of a woman fills my ears. “Some men are from elusive motorcycle clubs. Some are from the mafia, and some live in their mother’s basement, watching porn and having come up with an invention worth millions.”
A frown hovers on the edge of Phoenix’s lips. “Criminals?”
“No need to worry. We also promote safety, and no weapons are allowed. We operate on a three-strike system, but physical violence of any kind is not tolerated and results in an automatic ban.”
He’s quiet for a moment, lost in thought. “So, what are the requirements to be down here?”
“Our exclusive membership is three times more than our basic package, and you will have to complete an initiation.”
“Initiation?” He repeats. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You won’t know until it’s time.”
“Is it deadly?” He looks at me.
I chuckle. “We would never risk your life.” We want your money.
“Alright then.” His gaze turns back to the scene playing out. His eyes squint. “I think I know that man.”
I look over and recognize Paul Wesley, the mayor of a large, very well-known city who is running for senate. His face has been everywhere, as he’s convinced the country to vote for him as the next President of the United States.
If Paul were caught here, it could mean the end of his campaign, but who would find out? Who’s here to take a picture of him with his face between some woman’s breasts, nuzzling them while he grips her ass, giving each cheek a slap here and there.
“Remember, discretion is key,” I remind Phoenix. “You signed a contract.” Before coming down here, each prospective exclusive member is required to sign an NDA to protect the privacy of everyone here. “You don’t want to know what happens when you break our contracts.”
His jaw tightens. “What happens now?”
“Tonight, you can experience what it’s like to be a member of Mercy with no strings attached. If you don’t like it, you can walk away, and if you do, you have my contact information.”
Hardly do they ever not like it.
Phoenix, I can tell, isn’t going to be an exception.
He’s already salivating, but I give him credit for hiding it better than most.
My eyes connect with one of our redheads, and a quick chin gesture has her approaching.
“Treat this one nice,” I instruct her, and she’s quick to get to business, slowly taking off his tie.
Phoenix opens his mouth as if he wants to say something before it closes abruptly when her lips find his neck.
That’s as good as done.
One of my many offices is in the far back corner of this floor.
I don’t usually work here, but it makes it easy to get to someone should a problem occur.
I glance at my watch. It’s still early, and it won’t hurt to sit down and read a few emails before I head back upstairs to oversee the House of Payne.
They’re having an event today, and I need to be there. If anything goes wrong, the blame will be on me. With my father and twin brother out of town, I’m the one running the show.
I reach my office, enter, and close the door behind me.
It’s dark in here, just how I like it. There is an array of bookshelves on the back with more books than I’ve read in my life.
A bathroom is tucked away on the back wall, and portraits hang on each adjacent wall.
My desk is next to one of the bookshelves.
It’s glass with a dark frame, and a pool table sits not too far away.
I’ve only played pool a handful of times, but my assistant said it fit.
When it came to decorating, I rarely doubted her.
I rarely doubt her, period.
A knock at the door disturbs me before I can even power up my computer.
A frown mars my features, and I sit back in the chair.
“Who’s disturbing me right now?” I call out, my voice deeper than usual.
On most occasions, that’s enough to make someone leave, but there are a few people who will try my patience anyway.
How did they know I was even in here? I didn’t tell anyone.
I squint as my fingers gloss over my gun, something I’m never without. It’s always best to be prepared.
“Katia,” comes from the other side of the door.
I drop my hand from the gun. “Come in.”
It doesn’t surprise me that she knew where I was.
Katia is my personal assassin whose job is to know where I am around the clock and provide me with anything I need.
She takes her job very seriously, and she’s damn good at it.
She’s been serving me for nearly six years, ever since she turned eighteen.