Chapter 4 Aniyah
ANIYAH
After wiping away tears from laughing so hard, we hung up, and I got to work.
First came the office duties, like approving payroll and reviewing maintenance expenses.
Some of our specialty rooms required intensive daily cleaning, which cost a fortune in hands-on labor.
When I checked the date, I realized I’d need to handle the in-person sweep myself as today was one of Van’s days off.
Van Tempest was my concierge for the Winged Palace.
Two years ago, I’d helped his sister out of a sticky situation and given her a job as a costume designer here, where she felt safe.
Not long after, Van showed up, insisting he’d take care of her, but she refused to leave.
The next thing I knew, he was in my office demanding a job for himself.
He said he wanted to oversee the talent to ensure his sister's safety, and I hired him on the spot.
I knew firsthand how powerful loyalty could be when it came from a place like protecting your family, and I recognized when to capitalize on that.
Since then, he’d become one of the people I trusted most. I gave him grief now and then, calling him a “fancy butler” just to see that spark of fire in his eyes, but the truth was, he was so much more.
He handled the day-to-day logistics so I could focus on training, development, and the things I actually loved.
But on days like today, I had to do it all, and it sucked.
Once I knocked out the financials, I moved on to the new round of membership applications.
Being the first line of defense, I always handled these personally, and I was quick to reject anyone who gave off even a whiff of the wrong energy.
Over time, I’d learned to spot red flags with just a single misplaced word.
Even if someone who was the wrong fit did make it past me, they still had to undergo rigorous checks—background, financials, and health.
You needed a healthy bank account to get through the door, and no one with under a million of self-worth fit the bill.
As for health, supes didn’t carry diseases, but some humans did come here looking for a specific kind of play, and I had human talent to protect.
Finally, there was an in-person interview with either Van or myself. If you passed that, then you moved on to the admin and contract processing. All in all, this place wasn’t easy to get into. You had to be the best to experience the best. That was my motto.
It took me a few hours to finish everything, but once I did, I leaned back and stretched my arms overhead.
That was when I noticed a bright pink rose sitting on the bookshelf to my left.
I stood up, drawn to it. The rose had just bloomed, lush and vibrant, its stem glittering with wickedly long thorns sharp enough to draw blood with a careless touch.
Tucked beneath it was a small note written in elegant, delicate cursive: Your beauty is deadly, only meant for the strongest hands.
I carefully lifted the rose, bringing it to my nose. Its sweet, heady scent filled my lungs, instantly reminding me of the envelope that had been slipped underneath my door a week ago, stuffed with soft pink petals and a card that simply read, “I’m always left wanting more.”
Running the delicate petals across my cheek, questions buzzed like hornets in my head.
Do I have a stalker? How had they gotten past all the security and into my office? What do they want from this strange little gesture? Is it a warning, a tease, or some twisted form of admiration? Malice or curiosity?
My mind raced, spitting out scenario after scenario until I landed on the question that really mattered, the one that could actually give me answers. Should I tell my siblings?
If I did, they’d flood this place with security, comb through every second of surveillance footage, and make the Winged Palace feel more like a fortress than a sanctuary.
I didn’t want that. Not over something that felt so.
.. small. So personal. It was probably just a low-level stalker, more of an admirer than threat.
What if I just let it play out? Wait and see if they escalated?
The dark, twisted part of me I kept tucked away liked the attention. The thought that someone might be watching thrilled me. Excited, desire-filled eyes focused solely on me. Are they watching now?
A shiver of pleasure slipped down my spine as I trailed the flower along my chin and down the hollow of my throat, stopping just at the curve of my breasts. Is this what you want? What do you crave from me?
A sudden sting snapped me out of it, and I glanced down to see a bead of blood blooming on my finger. One of the thorns had caught me. The pain was sharp but grounding, pulling me out of my head.
What the hell am I doing? Putting on a private show?
I shook the thoughts away and gently set the rose on my desk before slipping the card into a drawer. For now, I’d keep this to myself. If it went any further—if they dared to cross that line—I’d tell Alic.
But not yet.
A frantic knock sounded at my door.
“Come in!” I called out.
The door cracked open, revealing a peek of neon red hair and wide, anxious brown eyes.
“Madam Glovefox, we have a problem in the lobby.”
It was Natalie, one of our newer hires who worked the main floor, gliding from guest to guest to ensure everyone was comfortable and had what they needed. I motioned her into my office.
She slipped in with hesitant grace, and I noticed she’d taken my advice from her first week.
To enhance her naturally willowy frame and pale skin, I had recommended a pale pink basque set paired with white thigh-high stockings and closed-toe pink pumps.
With her long, wavy red hair and naturally sweet disposition, the look created the perfect illusion of youthful naivety that some clients found irresistible.
No one would ever guess she was a thirty-eight-year-old fairy who cared for her aging parents and a de-winged older brother.
“You can just call me Miss Aniyah. Now, what’s going on, Natalie?” I tried to keep the exasperation out of my voice, but when she flinched, I knew I hadn’t quite succeeded.
“W-well, y-you see… there’s this m-man in the lobby, c-claiming he has a t-tour appointment with Mr. Tempest, b-but since he’s o-off…” She trailed off, clearly hoping I’d connect the dots myself.
I stood from my desk with a sigh. “I understand. Tell him I’ll be down to meet him personally. But give me a few minutes to change and pull his file before you let him know, all right?”
She nodded quickly and scampered out of my office, her long legs carrying her in a hurry.
I peeled off my crop top sweatshirt and high-rise leggings, heading to the wardrobe tucked behind a mirrored panel.
From it, I pulled my favorite little black dress.
Silk front and back panels and sheer lace down the sides, it hugged every curve like it was custom made for me.
It had built-in cups that lifted my breasts just enough to be enticing without crossing into indecent. I was selling sex appeal, not myself.
I paired it with strappy heels that criss crossed up my calves, sleek and commanding.
Once dressed, I moved to my desk and checked the schedule. Nothing. Van hadn’t booked any tours today. I checked his notes, and there were no pending issues, no last-minute changes.
Taking a shot in the dark, I scanned the schedule for nearby dates. Two tours were booked for tomorrow and one from the day before. I clicked into the security feed for the lobby.
There he was.
A man with long blond hair sat calmly, one leg crossed over the other, dressed in navy slacks and brown loafers. The crisp white shirt and navy sport coat practically screamed old money.
I flipped through the applications from the possible matches. Only one hadn’t submitted a photo. Lucus Kingsley.
A vampire investment banker from London with family ties to British aristocracy.
Not just rich—legacy rich. The kind of wealth that didn’t disappear because it had been grown through centuries of compound interest. My favorite kind of client, even though his tour was scheduled for yesterday.
Let's hope he won't be a pain in my ass.
I spritzed on my signature scent, a heady blend of bergamot, amber, and patchouli with a hint of citrus, and with that final touch, I was ready to meet the Winged Palace’s newest member.
I fully intended to bag this whale then rub it in Van’s face, letting him know I had closed the deal with the one who blew him off.
“Is this how you treat all your potential members?”
I hadn’t even made it two steps into the lobby before this puffed-up prick was on my ass, and I wasn’t remotely in the hospitality mood.
Alic and I had fought over whether he’d go into the security room instead of lurking around my office door until I was ready to leave.
Finally, I’d let him do what he wanted just so I could get out of there.
I took a breath, mentally reminding myself to keep calm. He was just another entitled customer, and those were my specialty. He was lucky he had that cute British accent to soften the blow.
I didn’t acknowledge his question. Instead, I let my hips sway seductively as I walked toward him, offering a smooth smile and my hand.
“Hello, Mister…?”
His molten silver eyes locked on mine, hard as tempered steel. Rising, he took my hand in a businesslike shake, his grip firm, bordering on hostile.
“You asked for all that unnecessary information up front, and now you can’t even keep my name on file?” He lifted his chin, giving me a cold, superior stare like I was beneath him. Forgettable, disposable.