Chapter Twenty
I stared at the door for at least a minute before concluding that Nico really had gone. When I tested the handle, it opened, proving he hadn’t locked me in.
I studied the silent, empty corridor for a few moments before retreating inside and letting the door close behind me. Without Nico there, the place felt bigger. As though he’d filled up all the empty spaces, and without him, it was nothing but rooms.
Exploration came first.
The apartment consisted of the bedroom and the mirror room—which I’d already seen. Seen and been fucked in, my subconscious helpfully supplied. Beyond those were a small kitchen, a more spacious living room, and a bathroom.
I started with a shower. The water was refreshingly hot, and the selection of toiletries was surprisingly extensive for a place not lived in.
Afterward, I dressed in my own clothes. Were they really my clothes if I’d gotten them from Donovan? I decided as I cooked myself breakfast that wearing them for a full day gave me ownership rights.
I ate far more than I actually needed. Given how dangerous eating and drinking in Wonderland kept proving to be, loading up on food whenever the opportunity presented itself seemed like a sensible strategy.
All the while, I kept staring at the tiny USB drive.
Logic dictated that Nico wouldn’t have handed it over if it contained anything that contradicted his version of events. Which meant there was absolutely no reason to watch it.
So why couldn’t I stop looking at it?
By the time I finally slotted it into the laptop—which, just as Nico had promised, didn’t require a password—I’d convinced myself it was purely to check he wasn’t calling my bluff.
The video opened on an empty view of the office. I didn’t have to wait long before the door opened and I walked in alongside Zane and Zeke. I didn’t much like my expression. It reeked of naivety.
I hit fast-forward, eager to skip past the handcuffs and blindfold and get to the part that actually mattered. By the time the door opened again to admit the extra person, my palms were sweaty and blood roared in my ears.
I slowed the playback to normal speed.
Nico stood in the doorway, watching what the twins were doing to me with an expression that revealed absolutely nothing.
He could have been a statue from the art gallery.
At least until he started rubbing himself through his trousers.
The growing bulge there made it clear he wasn’t entirely unaffected by the scene.
There were moments where the three of them communicated through hand gestures, Nico waving them away when they tried to offer me to him like I was a piece of meat. It was a strange experience watching something I’d already lived through, but hadn’t fully understood.
I paused the video when Nico settled into the chair, one hand wrapped around his hard cock. I’d already seen enough. The moment he entered the room, I’d known he was telling the truth.
After a brief internal argument, I pressed play again, watching him smooth lube over his cock before gesturing that he was ready.
By the time he had me on his lap and was fucking me in earnest, I’d undone my jeans, stroking my cock in unison. Not wanting to get up and search for lube, I made do with saliva.
I tuned out Zane’s manipulation of my nipples and Zeke’s dark head hunched over my crotch as he swallowed my cock. My attention remained fixed on Nico and the gradual cracks in his composure as he edged closer to climax. When the video version of Nico and I came, I wasn’t far behind.
I sat there afterward, breathing hard, watching Nico straighten his clothes, leave the golden coin on the corner of the desk, and quietly slip from the room.
Once he was gone, I hit fast-forward again. The rest of the recording showed the twins leaving, my absence from the room while I showered, and very little else of interest. The video ended shortly after I left the room, leaving only a blank screen.
I removed the USB drive and slipped it into my pocket. Purely because I didn’t want video evidence of me having sex remaining in someone else’s possession. Not because I had any intention of ever watching it again.
Yeah, right? It turned out I was pretty good at lying to myself. Some might even say an expert.
The rest of the laptop proved disappointing. The internet didn’t work, exactly as Nico had warned, and I couldn’t open any file I tried. Who password-protected individual files, but not the laptop itself?
Apparently, Nico did.
Eventually, frustration won out, and I shut the machine down and resumed exploring. This time I opened drawers, cupboards, and the wardrobe, searching for something—anything—interesting. The most exciting discoveries turned out to be kitchen utensils and a rack of nearly identical suits.
I tried the TV next.
Apparently, Wonderland had its own television stations with no access to anything from the mainland.
The programming included only four categories: tacky game shows, an absurd courtroom channel that made little sense (given its surreal nature, I assumed it was comedy), documentaries that enthusiastically praised Wonderland, and porn.
A lot of porn.
At least ten channels appeared to be dedicated exclusively to it, catering to every conceivable gender pairing, group configuration, and sexual kink. Some of which I hadn’t even known existed.
After a few minutes, I switched the TV off. The window proved more interesting. Just like every other time, the street three floors down was crowded.
A woman in an indecently short red dress danced with her friends. Groups of people laughed. A couple stood practically motionless in the middle of the street, so lost in each other’s eyes that they didn’t seem to care who jostled them.
Everyone looked so damn happy. Did they not know what Wonderland was really like? Or was it a case of them knowing, but not giving a damn as long as none of the bad things happened to them?
A tall, blond man on the opposite side of the street caught my attention. I stepped closer to the glass. Could it be?
When the man turned sideways, recognition hit me like a punch. The profile was unmistakable. This time, it was definitely him.
“Warren?”
He didn’t hear me. Of course he didn’t. I was three floors up and behind a closed window. It had been stupid to call out. Maybe some irrational part of me had hoped he’d sense my scrutiny and look up.
No such luck.
I didn’t hesitate.
Yes, Nico had asked—demanded, really—for me to stay put until he returned.
But he wasn’t my boss. He didn’t get to dictate my every waking moment.
Besides, I could investigate and be back before he even knew I’d gone anywhere.
Though admittedly, if I found Warren and we were both here when Nico returned, it might be a bit of a giveaway.
I’d worry about that if and when it happened.
I felt a brief pang of guilt as I left the apartment unlocked behind me. Hopefully, no opportunistic thieves would happen by. I took the stairs two at a time down to the ground floor.
The whole situation felt eerily reminiscent of my first night in Wonderland as I pushed through the crowds to reach the opposite side of the street. At least I attracted fewer lascivious stares now that I wasn’t dressed head-to-toe in form-fitting leather.
I stopped dead when I reached the exact spot where I’d seen Warren.
Nothing.
I looked left.
Then right.
No sign of him.
“He went in there.”
I spun around to find Tom Cheshire had appeared out of nowhere, his familiar grin firmly in place.
He pointed toward a building, the sign above the entrance announcing it as The Rabbit Run.
I immediately took a step toward it.
He made a tsking sound. “You really don’t want to go in there.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a dangerous place.”
I snorted. “What place isn’t dangerous around here?”
Tom’s grin widened. “He’s learning.”
To my ears, it sounded distinctly patronizing. “Did Warren go in there, or are you just saying that?”
“Warren?”
“Tall. Blond.”
Tom glanced toward the building. “A man matching that description went in there. I don’t believe his name is Warren.” He shrugged. “But what do I know?”
“Then that’s where I’m going.”
“You really shouldn’t.”
Ignoring him, I headed for the entrance.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he called after me.
I waved a dismissive hand without looking back. Through the door was an empty room with walls painted a sterile white.
Well, almost empty.
A leafy plant that looked suspiciously like cannabis occupied one corner. Apart from that, the room contained only two doors on the far wall.
One blue.
One red.
There were no signs to show what lay beyond either of them.