Page 68 of Ruthless Obsession

I tug on my earlobe. “Sure the fuck do.”

He smirks behind his mask. “Have to have a team in place when you’re entering the lion’s den.”

We move through the club, passing a lounge area where people sip drinks and make small talk.

“Jackson said your captive got a status upgrade,” Buck says.

I burst into laughter. “Yeah, she’s my OL’ Lady now.”

“Must be one hell of a lady to get your attention. As memory serves me correctly you don’t like too much physical contact.”

We wave our tickets in front of the keypad and the elevator doors open. I don’t bother checking the corner of the ceiling for security cameras. There’s no doubt we’re being watched from this point on.

“Well, the feisty woman hit me in the nose when we first met.”

Buck chuckles under his breath. “You always loved a challenge.”

“Yeah, this woman definitely keeps me on my toes.”

The elevator descends and opens into a dim hallway just like Sharlenne described. A bouncer stands at attention, arms crossed, stone-faced.

He scans our tickets, nods once, and jerks his head toward the hall. “Middle door on the left.”

Buck and I nod and walk down the hallway. The red lights overhead shimmers off the gold glitter covering the black walls and doors.

I open the door and step inside the dimly lit room. Buck falls in beside me. Two women drift over, brushing their hands along our arms like they’ve already claimed us.

“Ready for a good time?” the redhead purrs at me.

“Soon.” I flash a fake smile, keeping up the act.

Buck grins at the blonde. “Checking out the scene, darlin’,” he says with a Texas drawl.

We move deeper into the space where crimson light bleeds from wall fixtures and ceiling panels, casting everything in a muted glow.

Women stand on small individual stages, naked, leaning against stripper poles. Masked men hands roam their bodies or finger them like toys on display.

My jaw tightens.

But it’s the center stage that punches the breath from my lungs. Under a stark white spotlight, a girl’s strapped into a bondage chair—wrists and ankles bound, legs spread, gag in her mouth. A man is fisting her like it’s a show. And maybe it is.

I glance at Buck. He swallows hard.

His wife was pulled out of this hell. I can only imagine what this does to him. Neto and his brothers might make it look easy, but I know this shit eats at their souls.

Around us, men in expensive suits flash red tickets and shout numbers.

“Eighty-five grand,” one yells.

I don’t know if they’re bidding to fuck her or own her.

A tall bodyguard with a wide muscled frame places a hand on the man’s chest, pushing him back. It looks like he’s telling him they’re not accepting bids.

“Demonstration,” Buck mutters, reading my mind. “Gets them horny. Drives traffic to the other women.”

In the back, the room shifts from red to black—darker in every sense.

We head that way.