8. Aeris
Aeris
I’d hate for you to find out.
Why did that threat sound … enticing?
“You okay?”
I blinked, looking up to find Albus hovering by the door in the mirror. “Fine,” I said, returning my attention to my own reflection. I looked just like I always did, my makeup perfect and hair half-up in my favourite clip. “He prepped?”
“He is,” Albus said carefully, watching me as though I were a predator he wasn’t quite certain how to handle. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Opening the left drawer of my vanity I pulled out the brown envelope, carefully tipping the contents onto the short table.
It contained stills of Olivia outside a bar, which was the last place she was seen alive.
They were only images, but I’d seen the video.
How she stumbled out with a man, the same man who was caught putting her in his car, clearly too drunk to consent.
She hadn’t been dressed provocatively, despite what she was later found in. The footage showed her in jeans and a soft jumper, exactly what one might expect from someone who had just returned from class.
“Do what?”
A soft sigh. “Aeris …”
“Say what you have to say,” I said, unable to look away from the image. The lovely Detective Kane provided me the man’s name, and using my own network I’d been able to organise everything else.
“You’re close to crossing lines that you might not be able to return from. I just want to make sure you’re okay with that.” Albus shuffled from one foot to the other. “I’m worried about you.”
“What lines do you think I’ll cross?”
Albus studied me in the reflection like he was trying to see past the surface, to find something that would either reassure him or confirm his suspicions.
He didn’t really understand what I did, and that was intentional.
We’d been together for almost a year, long enough for him to notice that things happened around me.
That sometimes problems resolved themselves.
I kept the details from him because the truth would force him to choose between his conscience and his loyalty. And Albus, for all his quiet intelligence and empathy, was fiercely loyal.
It was why I paid him so much money, and why I thought of him as a friend.
“This report says Olivia had heroin in her system.” Graham Finch had been questioned by the police due to evidence found on Olivia’s body, but as his daddy was a high court judge, he was released. No charge. Not even a caution.
“I’ve read the report.”
I turned in my chair to find Albus frowning at me.
“Olivia didn’t do heroin. She had a single-track mark, and it was a mess, as if she struggled.
” I stood, smoothing the hem of my dress, grounding myself as if I wore armour.
“She had sex,” I continued, voice steady despite the edge beneath it.
“But the forensic exam came back inconclusive, which, as we both know, says more about the reliability of rape kits than it does about what actually happened to her.”
“Aeris …”
“She was beaten so badly she had three broken ribs, a sprained wrist, and was patterned with bruises. Both external and internal. Then there were cuts to her lips and jaw.”
His eyes darted to the photographs then quickly away. “You shouldn’t be looking at those.”
I chuckled, the sound hollow. “Maybe not, but what’s the point in bribing a detective if I wasn’t going to look at it?” It wasn’t my fault Kane had questionable morals that would not only get him fired if his secret got out but also arrested.
Albus winced, wiping his hands down the side of his shirt. “Bribing’s the wrong word.”
I winked as I stepped past him. It wasn’t like I was going to admit out loud that I was blackmailing a man of the law. Albus studied me a moment longer, but I was already opening my door and striding down the corridor.
The gallery of sin was busy at this time of night, each window offering a glimpse into someone else’s pleasure. Normally, I’d linger and watch. But today I had something I needed to do.
I found Mr Finch in the lounge, a smaller, intimate space with dark décor, low lighting, and cushioned sofas. He seemed mesmerised by the way Lacey danced on the small stage, and I carefully sat beside him.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
He turned to face me, and it took everything to keep my sensual smile in place. “She is, just like you.”
Do not punch him in the face.
Leaning closer I placed my hand on his thigh, purposely stroking up to tease an inch from his erection that I wanted to rip off with my bare hands. “How are you finding your trial period, sir?”
“Amazing.” He grinned, and my stomach recoiled as he reached for my waist to pull me tighter against his side. “I didn’t know this place did trials. I’ve been trying to get a membership here for years.”
“Well, I’m here to make sure you get the full experience.” I cupped him through his jeans. “Do you want to move this to somewhere more … private?”
Graham swallowed, and from his breath I could tell he’d had a drink.
Probably why he hadn’t noticed everyone else had left the lounge, allowing me to pull him to his feet without any witnesses.
Grabbing his tie, I twisted, using it as a leash over my shoulder to guide him towards the Silk Suites—seven fully outfitted bedrooms and play dungeons designed for complete privacy, a deliberate contrast to the corridor’s exhibitionism.
Unlocking room three I tugged him inside, but as soon as the door clicked closed, he was on me.
My dress ripped, his lips pressing against mine as if he had every right to touch me.
“Down boy,” I purred, pushing him back so I could reach for his belt. He didn’t protest when I unbuckled it, pulling it from the loops. “So eager to finish quickly.”
His pupils narrowed at my comment, the air around him sparking with anger. “I thought you were supposed to be giving the full experience?” he sneered, his fingers digging into my upper arms.
“Exactly,” I agreed, placing my hand on his chest. “So take a seat, and let me take care of you.”
Tension threaded between us, and I wasn’t sure if this was going to end well. But after a beat he released me and sat with his legs spread in the chair. He looked like a king, and I was ready to topple him from that throne.
I removed the rest of my ruined dress, letting it fall to the floor, leaving me in startling red lingerie. “First we’re going to play a game,” I said, and before he could comment I was tugging down his jeans until they caught just below his knees. “You don’t get to touch me.”
“That’s not—”
“You do this, and I’ll let you do anything you want to me. After.”
He nodded eagerly, so swinging a leg over his thighs I leaned in close enough to reach the straps built into the chair.
“What are you doing?” he asked while I buckled his wrists to the armrests.
“Well, we can’t have you cheating, can we?” I rolled my hips against his erection, and he groaned even as I tightened the restraints.
After a second, he let out a pained hiss, so I tugged his head back with his hair.
“How does this feel?” I asked directly into his ear, dropping my voice into a throaty whisper.
“Good,” he groaned, trying to move beneath me, but was stuck with the jeans trapping his legs. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Hmm, let me think.” Removing myself from his lap I stroked down his chest, unbuttoning as I went.
Graham’s breathing quickened, and I smiled, letting my nails trail slowly across his exposed skin as I circled behind him.
I paused at his back, one hand resting on his shoulder while the other reached for the clip in my hair.
The strands landed heavy around my shoulders, and with the same motion, I opened the clip, revealing the blade concealed inside.
“Maybe we should recreate what you did to Olivia,” I murmured, pressing the cold edge to his throat.
The TV opposite flickered right on cue, playing the footage of Olivia stumbling out of the bar before being forcibly shoved into his car.
Graham’s face was unmistakably clear on the CCTV.
There was a reason I’d chosen this room, savouring his sharp intake of breath as ten more screens blinked to life, all looping the same damning clip.
“What the fuck?” he screeched, jerking his head away from the blade.
I tsked, pressing closer. Not enough to cut, but enough for him to panic. “What happened to playing my game?”
“Fuck you!” he hissed, arms straining as he struggled. “I don’t know an Olivia.”
“Ah, careful. I wouldn’t want to accidentally cut you,” I teased.
Graham’s nostrils flared, his erection nothing but a limp noodle.
“Aw, can’t keep up with me?” I laughed. “Don’t worry, most men can’t.”
“Fuck you!”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen. So, do you know this was how Olivia was killed?” I lied, emphasising the knife. “Oh, wait. Of course you know.”
“No … no!” he panicked, and I eased up on my grip. “That’s not what happened!”
The door opened behind me, and I turned to find Renley standing in the doorway with a frown. I knew for a fact I’d locked the door, which meant he’d used a master key.
“Oh look, we have company.” Licking along my bottom lip I ignored his disapproving look.
“What the fuck, man?” Graham screeched. “Help me!”
“Oh, no. He doesn’t get to play.” I glared at Renley with a warning, and he simply returned the look as he came to stand by the wall.
“What are you doing?” Graham cried until I cut off the words.
“What happened with Olivia?” I asked not so nicely.
“It was a mistake!” He tried to free himself once more and failed. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that, I’m sor—”
Renley took a single step forward, and Graham recoiled on instinct.
I couldn’t blame him, as Renley made most men hesitate.
Tall and broad, he radiated an unmistakable aura of danger.
I’d always assumed it was the scar slicing across his chin that unsettled people, but others have said it was his eyes.
One was dark brown, while the other was an unusual green tinged with a touch of yellow.
I hated him for other reasons, but that was beside the point.
Because Graham seemed to have forgotten I was the one with a blade to his throat. I pursed my lips at Renley, who was staring at my guest silently.
“What … what do you want from me? I did it, didn’t I? I just couldn’t do the last thing.”
I pulled back the knife, moving so I was in his line of sight. But he was still gaping at Renley, which just wouldn’t do. So, pinching his jaw, I forced him to look at me.
“Last thing?”
“They … they said I was allowed to fuck her first! Please, I killed her like I was asked. But … I couldn’t do the tongue.”
The revelation made me turn cold, my chest tight. “The tongue?”
Graham frowned, eyes darting over my shoulder before I pinched his jaw with my nails, drawing him back.
“What were you doing with her tongue, Graham?”
“I …”
I lifted my foot, pressing the tip of my heel against his testicles.
“Cut!” he cried, snot and tears smearing across his face. “Please … I couldn’t cut it out! She bit me, and I lost my temper.”
I pressed down harder with my foot so Graham shrieked, his testicles crushed beneath my high heel.
He went limp, slumping unconscious in the chair.
Pathetic.
Frustrated, I stepped back. “He was more scared of you than he was of me,” I said, looking over my shoulder at Renley. “Why are you even here? This was none of your business.”
“Everything you do is my business,” he said, his tone pissed. “You know I’ll have to report this.”
“You do that.” I gathered what remained of my dress and pulled it back on, sparing Renley a single glare. “I’ll let you deal with disposal.”