Chapter Ella
Ella
Like a dream, I floated into a new routine. Days blurred into weeks without my noticing. I trained my brain to believe I was in a house share with benefits—something casual, temporary, survivable.
My new job became one of the better parts of that dreamlike state. I met all kinds of people. Most were polite. Professional. A few, though, looked at me sideways, as if the role came with unspoken extras—as if I might be persuaded to offer additional services.
Whenever my thoughts drifted back to my old job, or my father, I stabbed at them until they vanished. Quick. Ruthless. The way you kill something small before it has time to hurt you.
Sometimes I had nightmares about Sophie’s medical bed—my body pinned in place, the smell of disinfectant sharp in my nose—but there was nothing I could do about my subconscious. It did what it wanted, when it wanted.
So I did what they told me.
I followed their advice.
I obeyed.
Without thought.
Without autonomy.
Without choice.
I obeyed.
?
?
?
“Good evening and welcome to Dominion,” I said brightly to the middle-aged couple stepping through the gold-framed doors.
The man immediately pulled out a twenty-pound note and handed it to me.
“Have one on us,” he said, his hand closing around his wife’s as she smiled and let herself be tugged along.
“Thank you so much,” I said, genuinely shocked by the gesture.
They were clearly married—matching gold bands, no hesitation in their touch—so it wasn’t creepy. She wore a classy black dress, understated but elegant. He was in a tailored black suit that looked worn in rather than rented. Comfortable. Familiar.
I watched them point excitedly toward a table as they headed inside. They looked happy—like people who functioned well together. No one ever really knew what happened behind closed doors, but they gave the impression of something… normal.
I folded the note and slipped it into my pocket. Since I didn’t work the floor or the gaming tables, I’d have to declare direct cash tips. They wouldn’t catch me out—I’d read every rule in the online employee handbook during training.
Two minutes later, Nick was standing in front of me.
“What did he give you?”
I slid my hand into my pocket and handed him the note without argument. This wasn’t new. It wouldn’t be the last time. His suspicion of me had no real foundation, and I’d learned there was no point trying to reason with it.
“A tip,” I said evenly. “He said—to quote—have one on them.”
Nick unfolded the note, inspected it like it might confess to something, then refolded it neatly. When he tried to pass it back, I shook my head.
“Keep it.”
A small group was approaching the entrance, and I shifted my weight, ready to greet them.
Nick grabbed my wrist.
“Did I say I was done with you?”
My gaze dropped—not to his face, but to the demon inked across his hand.
Black smoke-like curls snaked down his fingers, wrapping the knuckles, bleeding into the joints.
The demon itself was rendered in the same chaotic style—dark wings stretched wide, arms extended, palms turned outward as if in surrender or warning.
The lines weren’t clean. They were jagged. Violent. Intentionally imperfect.
Messy. Dark. Brutal.
And somehow… beautiful.
“You won’t ever get the chance to play us,” he said quietly.
I lowered my head and didn’t respond.
Nick was all talk outside the bedroom. Out of the three of them, I’d already classified him in my own mind.
My dildo.
The spare one.
The kind that didn’t vibrate and only got used when you were truly desperate.
I jumped when someone pressed in behind me, then relaxed as soon as I caught Alec’s cologne.
“So flirting on the floor is allowed now?” he murmured close to my ear.
“No,” I said evenly. “Nick was just running security checks.”
“By holding your hand?”
I shrugged, deliberately nonchalant.
“Someone gave me money.”
Alec’s body went rigid.
“What for?” he snapped. “How much?”
“It was a married couple,” I replied flatly. “Twenty pounds. For a drink or a game—I’m not sure.” I glanced toward the entrance. “May I return to work?”
“No. Get in the office,” he said sharply, already lifting a hand to signal Danny over.
Danny caught his look immediately and hurried past the seating area to us.
“Get Geraldine on the door,” Alec ordered.
Then his grip closed around my elbow—not rough, but unmistakably possessive—as he steered me toward the elevator. I didn’t resist.
Alec fell into step beside us.
Whatever they had planned upstairs, it wouldn’t be pleasant.
The sexual harassment policy in the employee handbook excluded them.
I knew the drill.
Nick walked ahead of me, Alec beside or behind. We went into Rowan’s office, and Alec locked the door.
I strip.
We fuck.
Depending on how badly they mess up my face or my clothes, I either go home with one of them—or return to work.