Coded in Control (Masquerave #1)

Prologue

I’m a shark waiting for my prey, hidden among the waves of people on the dance floor, blending in with all the masked faces. The game of hidden identity makes this game even more fun, because behind every one of those masks is a sinner. Their secrets are passed around like a drug, and their sinister deeds are worn like badges of honor.

Reaching up, I tap my finger against my mask, the metal cool against my skin. The gold is molded to my face and sparkles in the light as a reminder of who I am. This club oozes with powerful and conniving monsters dressed in their designer clothes. They pay high dollar for their fucks and for their secrets to remain mere whispers inside these walls.

Those whispers remind me that I’m not the only predator in the room, but our masks make us one and the same. The only difference is that mine lets me hide in plain sight as the new-age golden boy with a thirst for blood. Particularly, the blood of the men who have made my life a hell of a lot harder than necessary. I want to drag them all down together to drown in their own blood, watch as they fight and claw for their lives while they turn on each other.

But I don’t.

Like a shark, I wait in the dark depths, keeping my urges pushed down and building pressure. The pressure that, when it finally releases, will spring me up and I’ll crush them between my teeth. Shredding them and letting their blood coat my tongue, painting everything in crimson.

Even as my beast lurks under the surface of my skin, begging me to let him take a bite, I keep a casual air about me. A smile graces my lips as I pass by people, giving them a false sense of comfort as my eyes scan the floor, looking for my target. I clutch my soda water, my palms itching as I curl my fingers around the glass. The fingers of my free hand curl into a fist, and I let my nails press into my skin. The need to draw blood, even my own, is nearly overwhelming.

As much as I enjoy stalking my prey and being on the front lines, I have eyes and ears all over this club. The whispers that flow through this place find their way to me and are saved for later. Tonight, though, I’m out for blood, and this takedown is personal.

While I could keep my hands clean and let one of my trusted people have the hits, I want to coat my hands with their blood. Stain my skin red. I’ve been on the hunt for a while now, and I’m ready to make the kill of a lifetime and finally let my inner beast sink its teeth into the flesh of my enemies.

I’m too distracted in my thoughts as I turn to cross the club, just as another body crashes into mine. My first instinct is to grip the woman's arms to keep her steady, the smell of her sweet perfume flooding my nose. She gasps, her phone clattering to the ground, the screen bright against the dark floor.

“Oh my gosh.” The voice is as sweet as her scent, with a hint of surprise. “I am so sorry. I?—"

Her wide eyes meet mine, stopping her sentence short as if the breath was stolen from her lungs. Even from behind her mask, I can see how fucking beautiful she is. Her long, brown hair cascades over her shoulders in waves. Her black dress is just revealing enough to make my mouth water as it hugs her body, accentuating her curves. Her amber eyes shine bright in the disco lights, ones that I could get lost in.

I let my eyes rove over her before they halt on her hand pressed to her chest. A black stone ring sits on her left hand. One that is made to look like a fucking wedding ring, but with even deeper ties. I keep my face neutral, because that ring can only mean one thing .

Obsidian .

Only men of power have rings like this for their women—and usually, their women are just as fucked up as their men are. This one, though, doesn't give off the same vibes as the other women I’ve met. The ones who stand next to their men like docile creatures, only to have a knife at their backs, ready to strike. They're loyal to a fault because they have ultimately picked the wrong side.

She stiffens, as if ready for a blow. “It’s all right, love,” I croon, taking in her delicate features behind her black, lace mask. “If I wasn’t so far up my own ass, then I wouldn’t have unintentionally bumped into you.”

She lets out a polite giggle, covering her mouth with the same hand that her infernal ring sits upon. I watch as it glints in the light, nearly igniting my blood. We stand here for a moment, my grip on her arms loosening enough that if she wanted to step away, she could. However, she holds my gaze, electricity buzzing between us.

Who the fuck does she belong to? Whoever they are, they’re careless for letting her wander away like this. Usually, they’re shackled to their men when they’re out in public, not free to roam around in a club like this.

“You have beautiful blue eyes.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but it echoes through me, filling me.

With a smirk, I say, “A gift from my mother.” It sounds like a cheesy line, and it is, but there’s truth laced in it when they’re one of the only things my mother ever gave me. They got me both in and out of trouble in a blink.

She gives me another smile, and even though this woman could be dangerous, a ticking time bomb, I want to pull the pin and see how long it takes for her to detonate.

I loosen my grip a little more, and this time, she takes a small step back. Not far but enough to require me to let go of her. She doesn’t move anymore, though, as her eyes lock on my face, as if she wants to take in every inch. The electricity between us makes the hair on my arms stand on end, my fingertips tingling with the need to keep touching her. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this little vixen has drugged my drink and is plotting her own takedown.

She fiddles with the fucking ring as she says, “A very impressive present.” Her voice is low this time, thick, as if the words were sticking to her throat. It’s how I would imagine her voice would be after she was mouth-fucked by my cock, my cum coating her throat. I nearly groan at the vulgar thought, my cock already twitching.

A piece of her thick, brown hair falls over her masked face, blocking her amber eye from view. I reach up and brush it behind her ear, catching her intake of breath as I feel an electric zap prick my fingers. My touch lingers, her gaze holding for a beat before drifting down to where her phone lies on the floor. I reluctantly drop my hand, my fingers instantly going cold, as I bend for her phone. My fingers brush against the screen, lighting it up again, and displaying her background photo.

What I was hoping would be a photo of her and her betrothed , was nothing more than a photo of the sunset over the city. A perfect depiction of this fucking place with the light shining over the tops of the buildings that leave shadows over the rest of it, permanently cloaked in darkness.

I hold it out for her as her delicate fingers brush against mine, her nails gently scraping my skin. The image of those same nails clawing at my back as I fuck her hits me so hard that it nearly topples me over, releasing the beast that lurks in the darkness.

Get it the fuck together.

“Thank you.” Her voice is breathless as if she could read my mind and the filthy thoughts that plague it. “And I’m sorry again.”

She seems so innocent, almost embarrassed to be here. She’s so sweet that my teeth ache to take a bite. I let the corners of my mouth curve, showing those teeth. “It’s an honor to have a woman as beautiful as you plow into me. ”

A blush crawls up her neck as she lets out a laugh that has my heart racing. It’s full and velvety to my ears. A laugh that hits me in the chest and tries to pierce my heart. “You’re very clever.” The chuckle lingers in her voice.

I give her a wink, working my charm on her, just as a male voice cuts through the crowd.

“Lena. Lena !”

The woman flinches slightly as she turns toward the dance floor and takes a step away from me, her long legs creating distance, as a man exits the crowd that seems to part for him. He’s on her in a few steps, gripping her arm and tugging her to his side. His eyes are bright with a fiery rage that could burn you alive.

“Lena, what the hell is taking you so long? You’ve kept us waiting,” he growls, and she immediately shrinks an inch. My fingers curl into a fist as I take this fucker in.

He’s average height, but his massive, broad shoulders make him seem even larger. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a black tee that cuts into his biceps. His hazel blue eyes are a contrast to his plain, black mask that gives too much of his face away. If he’s trying to be discreet, like most are in this club, then he’s clearly an amateur.

But that's not the case, is it? He likes it this way. This fucker wants to be seen and believes that he’s the top dog here. Untouchable . But he couldn’t be more wrong.

I know this man and he’s exactly who I’ve been looking for, even hiding behind the scrap of cloth he calls a mask. What I find interesting is that he’s ballsy enough to let his woman off leash in a place like this. Men in his position want their women at their side and to remain quiet, hanging on every word they say, or they want them to become quiet killers, ready and willing to shed the blood of their enemies.

The urge to knock his teeth out and shove them down his throat one by one has my nails biting into my palm. This fucker hangs out like he owns the place. He prances in with his entourage, slides into his private booths, and fucks whatever woman looks his way. He normally doesn’t show up with a woman, only wanting to play the field, but he’s been bringing this same one around more. Flaunting her like a prized dog. She’s nothing more than his little bitch that he feels like he needs to keep on a tight leash. And I have a feeling after tonight, she won’t get this far away from her master again.

Her shoulders stiffen, even as her legs tremble. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do. Run and risk being hunted down by him and his dogs or staying and taking his punishment up front. But I know that if she knew what kind of shit he was up to around here, the things that have been whispered about him, she’d be running as fast and as far as she could.

More dark thoughts fill my mind as I imagine her running right here where I tie her up and keep her in a room beneath our feet. I’d gag her so no one could hear her scream my name as I fucked her senseless, her muffled cries begging me for more.

Her amber eyes have a darkness to them, the kind that comes with being with a man like this piece of shit. The ones where her own demons press against her and try to claw their way from the inside out. It’s clear that she’s been worn down and finds solace in her own mind, crawling to the dark corners of it and letting those demons consume her. I can tell that we’re not that different and maybe she wouldn’t mind being leashed by me, barking my name as I pound into her. My cock twitches again, and I resist the urge to palm myself right here and now.

“Who the fuck is this ?” His words yank me back from my thoughts, his lips curled in disgust, his eyes committing me to memory.

This woman, Lena, is nearly groveling at his feet, her eyes looking at the floor as she answers him. “I accidentally ran into him on my way back from the bathroom.” Her eyes discreetly slide to me, the look almost begging for me not to say anything incriminating. “I’m sorry, Matt.”

Matt .

She sounds so pathetic as she says his name, in a pleading way, as if he has his hand wrapped around her throat and she’s begging him to let go. That at any moment he’ll squeeze tighter and tighter, choking the air from her lungs, just to watch as more of the light leaves her eyes.

I’m a sadist and occasionally a masochist. A thrill seeker. But even I couldn’t find the pleasure he does by sucking the life out of her, dimming those beautiful amber eyes until the light finally goes out.

“Are you sure?” He grips her tighter, his eyes darkening as he looms over her, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at him. “You looked like you were having a grand time chatting him up.” His words are smooth, but there’s a sharp edge to them, intended to slice her up. “Like you were about to make a deal like one of the whores who slum this place.”

Motherfucker .

She starts to shake, her eyes dropping to her feet. Her hands are fisted at her sides, her lip nearly trembling as she fights back tears. He truly is a fucking piece of shit to have a woman this afraid of him instead of bowing down at her feet and pleasuring her while he’s down there.

I take a step between them, giving my award-winning smile to ease the tension and get an even better look at this fucker. “It was an honest mistake.” I gesture to her. “The lady got turned around and I was pointing her back in the right direction.” I give him the same edge in my voice that he gave to her.

Anger rolls off of him at my response, not pleased about me standing up for her or for getting in his space. His entire demeanor changes as he finally takes me in, realizing the power I hold around here and that he’s in my territory. He flips a switch and the charming community leader persona comes to the forefront. His shoulders relax and his face forms an eerily pleasant grin, as if he’s in front of a boardroom or a camera. His too white teeth gleam in the club lights like a predator’s in the moonlight.

“Women, am I right?” His voice is light as he lets out a chuckle, reaching out to grip my shoulder as if we’re old friends. My skin crawls where he touches me and I have to refrain from shrugging him off.

My eyes flicker to Lena, and her entire body vibrates. Her arms are stiff as she presses them to her sides, holding herself together.

Her eyes flick back up from the floor, forcing a smile and blinking rapidly as if to hold back the tears that are shining in her eyes. It’s practiced behavior and it makes me see fucking red.

I hold his stare, keeping my face neutral. “I’m not sure what you mean, Matt .” I try to hold back the snarl in my voice as I take a step toward him, crowding his space and putting more distance between him and Lena. He can tell what I’m doing and sidesteps me, his hand falling from my shoulder, but making sure to keep his eyes on her at all times.

Interesting.

He’s fucking threatened. Good—because he doesn’t have a fucking clue who he’s fucking with.

His eyes darken more as if in a challenge. “I mean that they’re clumsy as fuck and always playing the fucking damsel in distress.” He lets out another chuckle as he waves his hand in nonchalance, but I don’t miss the way his eyes flash to Lena. Controlling.

Possessive .

I shrug, turning to give her a soft smile. “If anyone is clumsy as fuck, it would have to be me.” My eyes shift to where he holds her arm, his fingers pressing into her skin, red marks already forming. I want to saw his hands off one at a time, shoving one in his ass and the other down his throat.

She looks up at me, desperation swirling in her eyes. She gives me a soft smile, dropping it just as quickly as she made it. I also don’t miss the way her eyes keep looking to the exit as if she’s trying to build up the courage to run from this bastard. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have a GPS embedded in her somewhere and he would get off on the chase .

Matt scoffs. “Well, thank you for your assistance , but we have a booth to return to.” He steps away from me, yanking her with him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment and something else. Fear, maybe?

My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and grip his hair, yanking it from his scalp for dismissing me like that. If she thinks that her little boyfriend is bad, she has no idea what kinds of things I can get into. The blood that’s forever stained on my hands.

She gives me a polite smile as he pulls her away, trying her best to be the dutiful woman of a criminal. I can almost hear her whimper as the leash tightens more and they disappear into the crowd.

My heart is pounding in my ears, drowning out the music, and I narrow my gaze on where they disappeared. Pulling out my phone, I type out a quick text with very specific instructions. In less than a minute, I get a response, moving my plans forward. Letting that piece of shit walk away from me without pummeling his face has my muscles aching as I lie in wait for the chance to pounce.

Before I can pocket my phone, I get another text, one that pulls up the corners of my mouth into a dark smile. I give the dance floor one last sweep, seeing if I can catch one more glimpse of them, of her , but they’re lost in the waves. Until next time, Lena.

Turning on my heel to head toward the back stairs, I slip into the dim hallway. The music drowns out behind me as I slide the door closed. I pass the other lacquer, black doors as I move to the end of the hall, letting myself through the more discreet one. My shoes quietly click against the metal steps as I make my way down, hearing moans of pleasure through the door at the landing. Tonight, though, I’m not here for pleasure.

I’m here to inflict pain.

With my fob, I unlock the door that hides in plain sight behind an erotic painting. It slides open with a quiet whoosh and I’m met with another descent. Each step down lowers the temperature another degree as I head even further underground, the walls aging from smooth concrete to exposed brick. At the last step, I’m met with a large metal door, sealed tight by all the security measures I’ve taken over the years, that includes the elevator doors that are shut tight to my left. Very few are allowed this far down, and fewer have permission to leave. One misstep and this could be the last place you see.

As I scan my thumb, the door unlocks and I push my way in. The lights are off, the only light coming in from the threshold as the door swings wide open. My shadow casts itself across the concrete floor like the monster in me is reaching out, searching for its next victim.

I step in, closing the door behind me, letting the darkness cloak me. Before my eyes fully adjust, I flick on the light switch next to me. The single bulb hanging down burns bright, casting its light onto a figure in the middle of the room.

I keep myself in the shadows as the man whose arms and legs are strapped to an anchored metal chair squeezes his eyes shut, his moans filling the quiet space. His head is still lolling from the drug-induced haze he was put in not too long ago.

I clear my throat and his head snaps up, eyes flying open, trying to see who is beyond the light and lurking in the shadows. Blood trickles from his temple and nose, his one eye already swollen shut. He put up a fight not to be dragged down here, but not enough of one to spare his measly life. People like him deserve to be brought down a few notches and see what it’s like to have their life in someone else's hands.

I take a few steps toward the light, my steps echoing through the room as the shadows cast across my face. He furiously shakes his head, trying to clear his mind from the drugs that are flowing through him. “W-who the fuck are you?” His breaths are heavy as he fights at the leather straps holding him in place. “Let me fucking go.”

I chuckle as I examine the table of tools that was left out for me, tapping my fingers on each one. “Why the rush?” I croon. Something like desire flows through my words, but not for his cock—for his blood. He fights harder as I pick up a blade, the chair rattling against him. I let the metal shine in the light, my body still coated in shadows, as I tap the sharp point with my finger, letting it nick my skin. The pain nearly makes me hard as ruby red liquid wells up before trailing down my finger. Just call me a fucking masochist.

I catch the blood on my tongue as I step into the light, making a show of dragging the tip up my finger before licking it clean. With slow, predatory steps, I close the distance between me and the man floundering in the chair.

I let him fight, his veins bulging as adrenaline pumps through his body. I lower the blade, pressing it against the base of his neck, and he freezes. I press the blade in more, tearing open his skin, the metallic smell of his blood flooding my nose. It wells over the blade, running down his chest as if it's trying to escape the inevitable.

“P-please,” he begs, his eyes going glassy with tears. “I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

Fucking pathetic.

I roll my eyes at his pleas, pressing the blade further into his skin. He lets out a pained groan, but he’s already shown his cards. He only made himself look tough, but deep down, he’s a pathetic piece of shit. He found his way down here by trying to touch what didn’t belong to him and giving out one too many secrets of his own.

“Anything, huh?” I keep my voice low, my words purring through my chest. I lean over him and press my nose to his, making his eyes cross as I move the blade to his collarbone, letting it bite into the skin. He sucks in a sharp breath and I can’t help the smile that pulls up my lips. “Then let’s play a game.”

His screams fill the air as he sings his confessions like a bird, his blood painting the gray floor crimson as more than words spill out of him.