Chapter 3 – Althea
ALTHEA
My girl Chloe came through in a pinch. My application is still in review, which means I’m not allowed to scene with anyone or join in on the fun yet .
I was, however, granted a visitor's pass to tour The Mansion while she works the bar. Observing might take the edge off, even if it won’t be the same as if I were on the receiving end of the punishments my body so desperately craves.
Worst-case scenario, I can always find a secluded corner with my battery-operated boyfriend.
With as many people that are here, I’m sure no one will notice.
A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.
Upon entering The Mansion, I was immediately brought into the locker room and assigned a locker for the evening.
A beautiful blonde woman in a tight-fitting black dress with a plunge neck and a hem that cuts off just below her ass gave me access and told me to come find her when I was done changing into my outfit for the evening.
Chloe had already explained to me why this would happen.
People who frequent this club typically come in dressed for cocktails or a typical evening at a normal nightclub.
The Mansion, however, is anything but typical.
It’s not likely that anyone will be seen or photographed by outsiders upon arrival, but it’s standard practice to appear as normal as possible, just in case.
If the paparazzi were to get a glimpse of what these people really wear or the intense sexual activities that take place, it could very well ruin the lives of some very important people in our society.
After seeing the state of undress some of the members come out of the locker room in, I understand the need for discretion and secrecy.
Patrons come in one way, then once inside the doors, most change their attire and ready themselves for whatever the evening may hold. To say I’m fascinated is an understatement.
Most of the men are in dark suits, appearing as ruthless and powerful as they would in any office or board meeting.
Even some of the women—those I’m certain are the Domme in their relationships based on how they carry themselves and how others address them—are wearing beautiful gowns.
One came in wearing a leather catsuit, and I found myself drooling at how beautiful she is.
I don’t play for the other team, but with her outfit and the way she flicked out her whip before strapping it to her hip, I can’t deny the thought had crossed my mind to explore what she could do.
It was the whip that turned you on, not the woman wielding it.
I’m not sure if that’s accurate, but I can’t deny that when she cracked her whip, my thighs clenched a little.
I crave pain and punishment. I need to feel something other than guilt, remorse ... failure .
Don’t get me wrong, I have a great life.
I make good money having a casino that is mine alone.
I love my new job opportunity in forensics, and not just because it’s useful in our line of work.
I genuinely love the science behind it. Through my studies, I learned so many interesting things I never knew and found the stages of discovery fascinating.
I have loyal friends and loving parents, guards and an army who would kill for me. But I also have guilt. And pain. And sadness that can sometimes overwhelm me.
On the day my twin went missing, we were playing in the park together.
We had our usual guards with us, watching over us as we played tag and built castles in the sand with each other.
We weren’t allowed to mingle with other children while we were there.
Mama always worried about strangers because although Papa lives by a code that says women and children are off limits, not everyone believes the same. And someone proved it that day.
Annanias and I were playing on the swings, racing to see who could go the highest without the guards pushing us.
I was winning when suddenly, my brother changed the rules of the game to who could jump the furthest while the swing was still in motion at the top of the set.
Annanias, knowing I couldn’t resist a challenge, jumped first. I watched as he landed on his toes and rolled forward in a somersault, laughing and giggling with his hands in the air in triumph.
Of course, I couldn’t let him win. And after seeing how easily he landed, I figured I would do the same.
Before I could think too deeply about the situation and why it was a terrible idea, I let go of the chains and propelled myself off the swing.
Only my landing wasn’t as smooth as Nias’s.
When I jumped, I became scared and put my arms out to brace for impact.
When I hit the ground, I awkwardly landed on my arm and broke it.
Both of our guards ran to my aid. Nias tried to help, but the men shooed him back so they could get a better look. Being annoyed at their dismissal and being the easily distracted little boy that he was, Annanias found himself an ice cream peddler nearby and headed that way.
“Come over here, Thea! Come get some ice cream. It’ll make your arm feel better!
” I heard my brother shouting across the way.
I tried to nudge one guard to get him to take me over there, wanting the offered ice cream.
They ignored my requests as they were talking to my very loud, very frantic mother, who was berating them for allowing me to do something so foolish while in their protective custody.
By the time the orders were given about which hospital to take me to and what the men were expected to do, Annanias was gone.
Papa set hundreds of his men to search for my brother. Originally believing he just wandered off, but as the night went on and there were no signs of my brother anywhere, Papa began to fear the worst.
We searched for months and never found him.
Papa finally resigned himself to the idea that Nias was dead.
We had a very private funeral. Just our small family.
Oma and Opa came, and of course my aunt and uncle.
But that was it. From that day on, Papa kept me out of the spotlight and out of sight from anyone in our world.
Business meetings were held away from his home office, and I wasn’t allowed anymore play dates.
Until Chloe.
Her father is an associate of Papa’s and his wife is close with Mama. They homeschooled Chloe so I’d have a friend.
We were homeschooled through high school, and I trained with our men every day. My uncle Alastor became the next underboss to my father. He already held the position, but he knew he would eventually give it over to my brother.
Not anymore.
I fought like hell with my parents for years, trying to make them understand I just knew Nias was still alive somewhere. I can feel it. Maybe it’s because we’re twins. Maybe I’m just clinging on to a last hope. Either way, I can’t get rid of this guilt and pain until I know for sure.
And what if you’re wrong? What about the guilt then?
“Miss Drakos.” A sweet-spoken voice calls my name. When I turn around, I find the same cute blonde hostess from the front, smiling back at me. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, of course. I was woolgathering. That’s all.” I reply, remembering how Mama uses that as her excuse whenever she disappears in thought.
“Are you ready for your tour now? I can take you around if you like.”
“Yes. That would be wonderful. Thank you.” I finish stuffing my jeans and t-shirt into the locker, then close and lock it before following my hostess out into the club.
“I love your outfit.” She beams. I take a moment to look over my dress, making sure everything is covered appropriately.
Since it’s my first time here, I thought a casual, short cocktail dress would be sufficient.
It’s low-cut in the front with just enough cleavage to be sexy and not slutty.
I’ll save the good stuff for when I get the membership approval.
For now, I’m here to observe and scope out potential playmates for later.
“I’m Jessa. Though you’ll hear some members here address me as Miss Marks.” She rolls her eyes. “They like to be formal. But you can call me Jessa.” She smiles.
We walk past the front lobby into a cocktail bar and lounge area where I catch Chloe working and Liam parked on the stool in front of her.
I watch on as she delivers a draft beer to a male member.
She flirts with him a little, giving an innocent smile and what I’m certain is a sassy reply to something he’s said.
Liam doesn’t look too happy with the exchange as he glares at the side of the man’s head. When his eyes meet Chloe’s, her cheeks tint pink as she bites her lip. Liam scowls and mouths the word “One.” Chloe’s eyes light up, and I’m pretty sure my friend is in for one hell of a fun evening.
The lighting is dim in here, but not so much you can’t see the table in front of you.
“This is where you’ll sit and fill out your membership paperwork. Most couples come in here to go over their rules and contracts. It’s less noisy and definitely less distracting than some of the other areas within the club,” Jessa explains.
“Wouldn’t a private room be better for something as personal as these discussions?”
Jessa turns to me with a soft smile. “Only members may enter the private rooms. Until you’ve filled out the paperwork, established your limits, and been vetted by Enzo, this is as far as you may go without a staff member.”
“I see. And will you be my escort for the entire tour?” I ask as she leads me into another area of the club labeled Dungeon .
“Unfortunately, this is as far as I go for tonight. We’re down a hostess, and there are still so many preparations to be made before the big Halloween party at the end of the month. I have one of our dungeon masters coming to take over your tour though. Shall we go in and find him?”
“Lead the way,” I reply, waving my hand in the door's direction.