14. Verona
14
VERONA
“Y ou disgust me,” I said to the masked man on my computer. “You and your pathetic cock, so vile. How can you stand to look at yourself in the mirror?”
My client yanked at his penis, crying into the computer while he jacked off. I saw him once a week for our sessions, and it usually ended with him sobbing and coming at the same time. As long as he kept paying me, I kept showing up.
“I’m sorry, Mistress,” he whined, tears streaking down his face, his hand stroking faster.
“You should be,” I continued. “But you can make it up to me.”
“I can?” He played along with the game.
“Come for me, you pathetic worm,” I said. “Come really hard, and I might think about giving you a compliment.”
“Oh, thank you,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He spurted all over himself and sat back against his chair to breathe down the high. “Jesus, that was good.”
I smiled, letting the praise rush over me. “You’re welcome.”
“Same time next week?” He grinned and raised his eyebrows like a hopeful puppy.
“Sure,” I said. “I want you to eat healthy foods and drink lots of water, okay? Today was a hard session.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said. “I will.”
“You better. If I find out you aren’t hydrated for our next talk, I’ll go easier on you.”
“No,” he said, widening his eyes. These masochists, they wanted it hard all the time. “I will. I’ll drink my water and eat my protein.”
“Good.” I moved my mouse to the red button to end our session. “Take care of yourself.”
I signed off and smiled at the three grand tip he’d sent me, knowing it was some of the easiest money I’d ever made. I didn’t have any other clients for the rest of the day, so I’d just been about to sign off when a strange direct message came through my platform.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
I smirked and clicked into it, certain it was a bot. None of my clients would dare to call me gorgeous unless I asked them to, and I didn’t have my profile set to taking on new one on one sessions. I had my plate as full as I liked it, and after the Beacon reopened, I didn’t know if I would retain anyone currently on my roster. I enjoyed the work, but last night with Hollywood had changed things even if he said he was okay with me keeping my day job.
I moved my cursor to block the newcomer, but paused when the next IM came through.
“I saw you at Crimson headquarters,” the message said.
My blood ran cold and I sat up straighter. Alarms blared in the back of my head, skidding down my spine to churn in my gut.
No, it couldn’t be ...
“You look more beautiful than ever.”
Chills erupted over my body, tensing my shoulders, and I almost closed my laptop to break the connection. I didn’t want to confirm nor deny that whomever this person was had seen was me, but I also needed to know if they were who I thought they were.
I’d left my entire life in Manhattan behind because of him. I’d come home to the safety of my family because of what he’d done to me. How did he find me? He didn’t know my real name or where I’d been from. He’d seen my face, that had been unavoidable, but I didn’t know if that was enough to track me down.
“Tell your father I’m coming for you, Verona,” the next message said. “Tell them all.”
I exited the app and slammed my laptop shut, jumping out of my chair so fast it fell over behind me. My heart pounded and my hands trembled as I ran them over my face into my hair. Memories from my former life bombarded me: the look in Curtis’s eyes when he shoved me around his apartment, the pain that erupted through my face when he’d smacked me to the ground, the way the knife had slipped and cut into my fingers when I’d hit the bone in his leg. I closed my eyes, and I wasn’t in my room anymore. I was in his tiny apartment, weeping as he threatened to keep me as his forever.
Compared to some abusive relationships, it wasn’t nearly as violent as it could have been. But I’d been terrified, and the thought he might pop up again to finish what he’d started had stayed with me since that night.
I’d thought I’d left him behind. I thought I’d gotten away.
He’d found me.
No. No.
Get yourself together, Montgomery.
I wouldn’t be scared of him, not anymore, and I didn’t even know if this was him. This could just be someone fucking with me. I’d ask my brother to look into it. Castor was a computer genius, and he could find any information about anyone.
But ... if this really was Curtis and he really was trying to find me, taking it to my brother would mean I’d involve the Roses. They would track him down and gut him alive, and I wanted to pretend the whole thing had never happened.
I texted Castor, asking where he was, and when he replied he was on his way to my house, I dressed in sweats and waited for him in the living room.
“I need a favor,” I said when he came through the front door, carrying a paper bag that had better be full of the groceries he promised to replace.
He narrowed his dark eyes and raised an eyebrow. “A favor for my little sister? Hmm. That’ll cost you.” Laughing, he swept past me to the kitchen, unloading a box of cereal and a bag of chips before going to the fridge.
“This is serious,” I told him. “I need you to do something for me and not tell anyone ... not even Dad.”
That got his attention, and he straightened before turning to face me and shutting the refrigerator door. “Verona Marie ... do you have a secret?”
My cheeks burned as I punched him in the shoulder. “I have a billion secrets from you, idiot. Now, are you going to help me or not?”
“All right, all right, damn.” He rubbed at his shoulder as he nodded to my laptop and sat down. “You hit harder than Pollux and Bear combined.”
“I got a creepy message on my cam channel this morning.” I opened the computer and signed in so he could see what I was talking about. “Would you be able to find out who this is? Or if they’re just fucking with me?”
Castor pursed his lips and started typing on the keyboard, narrowing his eyes as he read over the asshole’s words. “Jesus, V. Who the hell are you talking to on here?”
“I’ve vetted all my clients, Cas,” I said. “I don’t work with people I don’t know.”
“Do you have anyone from your past that would be looking for you?” He asked the question mindlessly as he continued to pound away on the laptop’s keys, pulling up screens I’d never seen before.
I rubbed the back of my neck and kept silent, ignoring how hot my skin became. The stabbing pain in my chest snaked down my spine and the back of my legs, a stark reminder people want me dead, and some would do anything possible to get that outcome.
“Looks like they bounced off a VPN in Greece, but it was shitty work.” Castor paused and looked up at me, raising an eyebrow while he waited for my response. “Who’s after you, V?”
“An old client,” I said. “Someone from Manhattan.”
My brother gave me an incredulous look while he waited for me to elaborate.
“If I tell you, promise me you’ll keep this between us.” I couldn’t have this getting back to my father, not after what happened to Pollux. The SRMC already had enough on their plate with Leo and the Caputis. Adding my drama would only complicate things.
Castor softened his features and held out his palm to spit in it before holding it out to me, a symbol of our youth. When we were kids, we’d seen the spit-shake in a movie and, to this day, there was no terms of agreement more sacred between me and the twins. I did the same and slapped our palms together, sealing the deal.
“One of my clients tried to abduct me... when I was in the city.”
“Fucking hell, V.” He sighed and ran his hands back through his dark, curly hair. “Tell me everything.”
I did, explaining to him how Curtis followed me to the club, terrorized me outside of my house, and eventually trapped me with far worst intentions than what had actually happened. It was the reason I’d packed up my bags and come home.
“He had that look in his eye,” I said, rubbing a hand over my scar.
“The soulless eyes? Like old man Robbers?” Castor asked, mentioning the recluse that lived down the street from our childhood home. He likely had been an aging widower who could no longer care for his house, but as the building deteriorated around him, our childish imaginations ran away with us and turned him into our own real-life version of Boo Radley.
“Yeah,” I said. “Except he actually fucked me up, instead of just looking scary.”
Castor shifted his focus to me. “Why don’t you want Dad to know? We shoulda taken care of this fucker as soon as you got home.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t want Dad involved.” I sighed and went to the cabinet, retrieving bread so I could make lunch for both of us. “The Roses don’t know the meaning of the word ‘subtle.’ I just want to forget it ever happened. I didn’t think he knew who I was or where to find me.”
“You’re on the internet as a domme,” he said. “Anyone can see anything they want.” He didn’t mean the words to be vicious or condescending, only truthful.
“No one knows my real name,” I said. “No one sees my face. Ever. He shouldn’t have been able to find me. He shouldn’t know where Crimson headquarters is.”
“Give me a few minutes.” Castor went into hyper-focus, ignoring me while he worked. I made us both sandwiches and placed his down in front of him before pouring chips next to it. We ate in silence while I scrolled on social media, and I tried to hide my excitement when a text from Hollywood came through.
Hollywood: Are we still on for tonight?
I bit my lip and replied back.
Me: Yes.
Hollywood: I have to swing by the clubhouse. Will you be there?
“Are you heading to the clubhouse after this?” I asked my brother.
He furrowed his brows and muttered a quiet, “Yeah,” while he typed on my laptop.
Me: Castor and I are heading over in a little bit.
It would have been easy for me to leave well enough alone and wait until I got to the clubhouse to mess with Hollywood, but where would be the fun in that?
Me: Were you a good boy today?
Hollywood: The best.
Me: Hmm, show me.
The response bubbles appeared ... then disappeared. My heart sank. Had I stepped too far? Had I been too pushy? Just as I went to type a retraction, explaining he could show me later, a video came through. Not even thinking about it, I hit play. Hollywood’s moans filled the kitchen, and I hastily clicked the power button to shut off my screen, my cheeks burning, my eyes wide. But it was too late; the damage had been done.
Castor stared at me, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. “What the fuck was that?”
“Nothing,” I said, shooting to my feet. “Let me know when you’re leaving. I’ll go with you.”
“Okay, weirdo,” he said with a laugh, returning to his mission with my laptop.
I walked to my bedroom, into my bathroom, as far away from my brother as I could get, and turned the volume down low on my phone. Then, I hit play again, my eyes glued to the screen as I watched Hollywood stroke his cock.
“This is what you do to me, Mistress,” he moaned, his fist sliding over his velvet skin, yanking on the tip to scoop up his precum before going back to the shaft. “I can’t wait for you. I need you.” His moans grew louder as his fist worked his dick harder until finally, he let out a deep groan and spurted all over his hand. My lower stomach constricted and I twisted my legs together to soothe the ache, knowing I’d get a firsthand view of that tonight. Then, he flipped the view on his camera so I saw his face as he said, “It’s all for you.”
I took a deep breath to calm the arousal coursing through my veins. I’d certainly seen my fair share of men whacking off, but none had ever made me as instantly turned on as this one video. Growing up in a house with three brothers had desensitized me to cocks at an early age, which probably explained why I could do my line of work. But watching Hollywood come for me had been magical, and the heat in my cunt and the rush in my chest only made me want it more.
I hopped in the shower, preparing to head to the clubhouse, and when I rubbed one out to that video, recording myself so I could return the favor, I told myself it was because he was so beautiful ... not because of the complete control he had over my reaction to him.