Page 61 of Carnal Games

I cannot afford that tonight. Especially with the high chance that Dash will warn Kian or Nova might tell Nathan. Neither can happen, or my efforts will go up in flames.

The ambience of the place is like any other luxurious building with sparkling lights and glittering chandeliers. Nothing remotely reveals there’s a decadent and secret underground gentlemen’s club, meant for the powerful men in the country.

It reminds me ofJames Bondmovies, where I’m sent on a mission to seduce the tall, dark, and handsome villain. The men mistaking me for a soft and non-threatening girl, not aware I possess deadly skills until it’s too late.

Apparently, my deadly skill is stalking.

My goal is simple.

Find Kian and demand a formal meeting. A second chance for me to list the reasons why I deserve an interview and how it’ll be beneficial for him too.

“Are you in the lobby?” Rosalie’s voice comes through the Bluetooth device in my ear.

“I am,” I quietly answer.

“Good. Now, walk to your right and you’ll see an unmarked black door in the corner.”

Staring at the ground, I follow the direction. As if Rosalie can sense where my gaze is, she snaps in my ear, “Eyes up, sexpot.”

“They are,” I lie, jerking them up.

“Uh… huh.”

“And sexpot? Seriously?”

“In that backless golden dress, you are one,” she praises. “In order to get you in unnoticed, you need to act like one too. So, chin up and sway those hips.”

“Everyone is already staring, Ro,” I mumble, clasping the small sparkling golden clutch I’m carrying tightly, which holds my phone, ID, and some cash.

“Ignore them.”

Thankfully, I reach the unmarked door and push it open. “Okay, I found it. I’m going in… Wait, is this right?”

A dark and narrow hallway built like an alley looms before me. If it weren’t for the beautiful brown carpet and low lighting, it really would make a scary alleyway.

“Does it look like you stepped into a gothic fantasy land?”

“Oh yes,” I rasp to Rosalie.

“Then you’re on the correct path. Go straight through the wooden door at the end and take the stairs downstairs. You’ll lose signal on the phone but don’t worry, I’ve asked the hostess to meet you out front. She’ll sneak you in past the bodyguard.”

“What’s her name?”

“Ta-a-ss,” comes her broken voice, like she warned. “Shhaa.”

“Ro!” I call and hear no reply. Checking the phone, I note the signal is lost. “Shit.”

Did she say Tash or Tasha?

It has to be the second.

The second door is heavy, made of imported wood with some intricate and rustic design carved into it. Twisting the brass knob, I shove hard until it creaks on its hinges. The sound traveling like an electric shot down my spine.

Candles mounted on the walls illuminate the dingy and spiral staircase, vibrating with the low bass of the music coming from below.

Is this what men find attractive?

A medieval underground dungeon to make them feel like kings?