Page 227 of I Will Break You
My spine tingling, I suppress a shiver and whisper, “No.”
“Every. Single. One.”
My lips part with a gasp, even though none of this is exactly news. Xero was also my obsession while he was on Death Row, and I know my feelings were more than reciprocated. But hearing those words now that he’s free gives them so much more weight.
“Stay there.”
He exits the car and walks around the front to my side, where he opens the door and offers me his hand.
Taking it, I step out onto the pavement, my heart beating fast at the prospect of going to a party with Xero. He looks handsomein a tuxedo, which he wears because the Ministry of Mayhem’s dress code is horrifically sexist.
His gaze sweeps down the corset he commissioned for me from my Wonderland wishlist. I’m also wearing it with a pair of faux leather hold-up stockings that blend into my platform boots.
He licks his lips, his eyes lingering on the pretty lace panties I’m wearing instead of a skirt.
“Afraid, little ghost?” he asks, his deep voice breaking into my thoughts.
I draw in a shaky breath. “A little, but then, I’ve never felt so alive.”
He brings my knuckles to his lips for a kiss that sends sparks of electricity across my skin. “That’s my brave girl. After tonight, your life will never be the same.”
NINETY-FIVE
XERO
Melrose Manor’s entrance hall is just as grand as its exterior. A pair of ancient pendant lights hang down from a sixteen-foot-high ceiling, illuminating its mahogany-paneled walls. Above them are religious tapestries that have faded over the centuries, which are at odds with the dance music booming from the building’s interior.
Amethyst clings onto my arm, her entire body quivering with excitement. This is her first time at an event like this, and she doesn’t know what to expect. I hope it doesn’t disappoint. Our priority is finding Nocturne, who’s our most promising lead in locating Father.
We advance toward a group of masked and cloaked employees at the far end of the hall standing among the security guards. After we deposit Amethyst’s cloak, a dark-haired man wearing black leather pants and a collar checks our tickets’ QR codes.
“Who do I talk to about membership?” I ask him.
“It’s invite-only,” he replies, his voice gruff.
“Then who do I talk to about getting an invitation?”
“They talk to you.”
He turns his attention away from us and toward the couple on our left. The woman is topless under her cloak. The collar aroundher neck is so large that she tilts her head at an awkward angle to accommodate its height. I’m struggling enough with having this much of my little ghost on display. I would never allow her to be as exposed as that woman.
We arrived ninety minutes after the opening time, leaving the fifteen other operatives the opportunity to scope out the venue. According to Jynxson, it’s the most vanilla fetish club he’s ever visited. He’s asked around about Nocturne, who they say keeps to a members-only area in another part of the building.
The music grows louder as one of the employees escorts us down a long hallway and through a set of double doors to a darkened ballroom illuminated by red spotlights.
It’s a dance floor, broken up by multiple podiums housing BDSM furniture and the occasional pole. Beside me, Amethyst thrums with so much anticipation that I’m forced to crack a smile. At least one of us is impressed.
Peeling her away from watching a naked woman in a tiny cage being fingered by a small crowd of women and men, I head to the bar area. Six screens broadcast a couple fucking from different angles. The woman is a bleached blonde I recognize from the Ministry of Mayhem’s website, and the man wears a mask.
“What are you drinking?” a bartender yells over the music.
I point at the TV. “Is that live?”
He nods. “That’s from the screen room. It’s a space covered with cameras and monitors so you can see yourself from every angle.”
I hesitate, remembering that Nocturne was interested in branching out into producing videos of his inner circle. “Is that included in the entrance fee?”
“Members-only. What can I get you?”