Page 35

I list them because their loyalties are to the Omegas here, not to the establishment and not to Mama. If she’s going to continue to let that monster be a patron, continue to inflict his horrors on the Omegas here, then let the guards paid to stop him from going too far actually care about the Omegas in peril.

Fuck Mama and this club.

“I’ll speak with them about it.” She regards me levelly. “It’s… good to have you back, Sin.”

“Good to be back.” The words burn like acid as they pass my lips.

Chapter Fourteen

Garen

The outside of the building is ugly as shite. Plain brown brick, only a handful of small windows, all of them too high on the walls to actually meet fire safety regulations, but perfect to not allow any peeping inside. The sign above the door is simple neon, bright red.

Chains, Whips, & Knots.

Clever.

Sarcasm seeps from the words.

I’d shown my ID to the bouncers outside who let me through without an issue, of course. And what greeted me beyond the second tier of entry was pleasantly surprising.

The interior is dark, filled with deep colored woods and crimson lined with chrome. On the left is an extravagant full bar, lit in red LEDs everywhere, plush U-shaped booths all around it, mostly filled with patrons. In the main part of the building are circular tables with chairs, again, nearly filled, most of the attendees facing the back of the building where a prominent stage sits. On it are two female Omegas, both bound and on their knees, naked aside from the intricate rope work tied to their frames. Their gazes are trained on a male Alpha who wields a flogger, running it over their perky breasts before slapping the tail on their skin, drawing porn-worthy moans from them.

On the far right, at the back and just out of the way, is a smaller area with several stripper poles, half of them in use by two female and one male Omega, each has their own small audience that watches from couches and booths that line the walls.

“You’re new here.”

I turn to an old woman, a beta with a dull and grassy scent. She’s all sour-faced with predatory eyes I know all too well.

“You must be the Mama,” I croon, giving her a small bow.

Kick the old hag in the teeth and let’s get our woman.

Hush. We’re on a mission, remember?

Mama preens a bit, then settles back into her neutrality. “And you are?”

“My name is Garen. I’ve come here from thousands of miles away for a chance to experience your club. More specifically, this wonderful Omega domme I’ve heard so much about. Sin, I believe they call her.”

She gives nothing of her thoughts away. “And who told you about my establishment?”

“Mikhail Petrov.”

There’s a slight relaxation in her shoulders. “Mr. Petrov is an excellent patron.” Her eyes narrow. “Can you afford our services?”

“Is Sin free tonight?”

“She’s very popular tonight. She recently returned from a trip.” The hag taps on a touch screen, making humming noises, like what she sees is interesting. “Sin is booked in hour increments. She has availability in two hours.”

Perfect.

I dig into my pants pocket and pull out a fat roll of hundreds, drop it on her little podium. “That’s ten thousand.” I dig into my other packet and pull out a matching roll. “And this is another ten if you clear her whole night for me.”

The woman is practically salivating at the sight of the cash I’m waving, but rights herself and stares me in the eyes. “No vaginal knotting.”

“I beg your pardon?”

I must be hearing things.