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The man rarely leaves his castle and is almost never seen by the press. So when he agreed to come to SIN—my nightclub—on my birthday, to discuss the acquisition of his companies by our group, I knew I would need to find a way to soften him up.
An extra incentive.
Just like my brothers, I study my opponents and find their weak points.
Rey may be antisocial, but he's a man first and foremost, and from what I've heard, the only women he gets close to are high-end escorts.
We do not provide call girls here at SIN. My club's role is to fulfill fantasies for a small portion of the society, and I'm sure he knows that. Politicians, heads of state, kings, businessmen like me—men who have a lot to lose and who, for that reason, cannot satisfy some of their desires anywhere.
SIN has existed for two years, and becoming a member is almost a rite of passage, in which the candidate goes through a screening process and, shortly after, a background check.
There is a confidentiality agreement for both parties, as well as for the girls hired as a fundamental part of the entertainment.
Here, customers can wear lingerie in a private room, parading for our girls. Or spend hours licking women's shoes, being pulled on leashes or beaten with whips.
The only thing they can't do is touch them, and that restriction, for most of them, is even more exciting.
There is no judgement.
There are no cameras in private rooms.
Cell phones are not permitted.
Hedonism is not only tolerated, it is encouraged.
SIN is the place for guilt-free pleasure, and my intention is that the Spaniard will be able to relax enough to do business with us.
I know that our proposal is not the only one Rey has received, and I also know that all the previous ones were refused, so I’ve planned something different for his entertainment and hired a dancer who speaks Spanish to give him a private dance.
It occurred to me that he would prefer to talk in his native language.
I found the perfect girl: Madison Foster?*. Beautiful and a little awkward.
I interviewed her in person, I handpicked her, and now everything could be ruined by a damn chance encounter.
If someone had told me that my brother Zeus would be interested in her, I wouldn't have believed them.
The oldest of the four of us is the pure image of a banker, and his women are always the same, like mass-produced replicas. I don't even know how you can differentiate one from the other, as they could pass for sisters.
Sophisticated, tall, beautiful, well-educated . . . fuckingboring.
And now the bastard decides to be interested in precisely the one I chose to entertain Rey.
When the manager came to tell me that Zeus was in the room reserved for the Spanish businessman, I went straight there to undo the mistake, but the moment I entered the room where he was and saw his face, I knew my plan would have to be modified.
Right now, oblivious to Madison's performance, I watch him, because the bastard knows he shouldn't be here.
What the hell is happening?
The dancer hasn't seen me yet. She has her back to me, half-naked, but I feel so pissed that I don't even notice the generous curves I imagine she has.
When I open my mouth to speak, Zeus shakes his head, but I don't usually give up easily. I won't move until he talks to me.
Knowing that I won't give up, he gets up from the chair with a frown on his face. He passes by the dancer and says to her, "Don't leave."
Just then, the woman realizes that there is someone else in the room.
"She's supposed to dance for Rey," I say as we leave, and he closes the curtain behind us.