As I make my way to the car and slip onto the bench seat, my driver takes his place and starts the engine. His gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror, awaiting my command.
“I’ll be going to Hawthorne first,” I tell him, and he nods as we pull out of the parking area. I reach for my phone in my breast pocket and find it buzzing wildly. “What?”
“We’ve spotted Darius. He’s on a bike heading out of Miami.”
“Keep a tail on him. I don’t need him disappearing again.” I hang up before they can give me any excuses. My brother thinks he can outsmart me, but I have more money than god, which is what he walked away from, and it also gives me the upper hand.
Flicking open my app list, I scroll down to the one I need and open her profile—no new photos or posts. The last one she put up was of her in that god-awful black and denim ensemble she wore to dinner. The top itself wasn’t bad, the lace offering a hint of what’s beneath, but other than that, I’m going to have to get her to dress appropriately since she’ll be on my arm at all the events I attend.
When I told her to be wary of the big bad wolf, I wasn’t joking. She didn’t need to know the finer details just yet. I can’t wait to get my new bride to my home. The house in Crimson Falls, my father’s stately property, will be ready for her.
The fact that her new home will not be far from her grandmother’s house is convenient. Since it’s right next door to the Bardot mansion is a testament to just how far I’ll go to get her and keep her. I thought about buying somewhere else, a new city or town, but I know throwing money around isn’t going to be the way to ensure her compliance.
I want her submission in every way possible, and there’s no doubt in my mind she’s going to be a challenge.
When we pull up to the building, I glance out of the window, taking note of the bustling streets. The door opens, and I step out, offering my driver a nod before I button my suit jacket and head into the awaiting, gleaming foyer.
Gold shimmers from the chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling, offering a glittering entrance as you walk into the apartment block. An upmarket position within the city, wealthy patrons dripping from head to toe in designer labels pricing that most would balk at. Well, when I say most, I mean anyone who isn’t me.
“Good evening, sir.” The receptionist grins. I run this place like a hotel. You can’t rent an apartment long-term, and most of the clientele only need a month or two.
“Is everything ready?”
A soft blush turns her cheeks pink, but the dark-haired beauty doesn’t capture my attention like Scarlett. There’s no fire. She’s far too submissive and compliant. Which has me wondering if that’s what my little red would be once I’ve broken her in. That won’t do. I like fire. I love to be burned by my choices. It makes the challenge that much more exciting.
“Yes, sir,” she responds and leans over her desk to offer me a glimpse of her cleavage, which looks like it’s about to spill from the dress. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“I’m sure it is.” I turn on my heel and head to the private elevator that will take me up to the rooftop club. It’s an exclusive, well-known slice of heaven, and when the car deposits me outside the sleek, black doors, I twist the silver handle and step into every Dominant’s fantasy.
Women kneel beside their Masters, and some even have two submissives who obediently await their next orders. Some have male submissives; others have a mix of male and female. When I first opened Heaven, I planned for it to be exclusively for my staff, for those who lived the lifestyle, but over time, it became something of a gem that people paid an extortionate amount of money for.
People like Bardot and his wife. Only, she no longer wanted this life, and he, on the other hand, took it upon himself to partake in the festivities when she didn’t know. The more money he needed to pay his membership fees, the more money he stole from me.
Now, he’d do anything to ensure my silence. Hence the reason I have a new bride to take care of when I get back. But for now, I move through the space, heading toward the viewing rooms.
“Mr. Shaw,” a voice drifts over the soft, classical music that plays in the background, and I turn to find Kahn. The businesses I run are varied, and he’s one of the soldiers I send in to extricate information when needed.