Aurelia
I still keep an eye out.
It's been over two days; I've come to the establishment every day since then, hoping to get some sort of clue on who it could possibly be that gave me the letter. To no avail, though, I'm still as clueless as I was on Friday.
It's Sunday now.
The establishment is packed, as usual.
Some of the unmasked faces in the crowd of guests are recognizable, and I've come to realize the place has regulars. I'm peeping through the slightly cracked door into the lounge, looking outside as girls get ready all around me.
There hasn't been a single lingering glance out of the usual, anything to notify me about who the person might be. Other than the stares from most of the girls, I'd already gotten used to. Sometimes I even heard them whispering about me as I walked by.
Twenty million dollars for a newcomer is unheard of.
Twenty million dollars is unheard of, period.
But Kane had blown a fortune on my head and, in the process, unwittingly put an invisible target on my back. They hadn't come back since that night, though. I'm equal parts relived and let down by the fact.
I didn't want to come back here; I actually had no intentions of doing so, but my curiosity was an itch I needed to scratch desperately. The mistress was surprised to have me back, but she didn't turn me away. I never gave up my membership, and the escorts never came to collect it. So the moment I could, I snuck out of the house Friday night in search of answers.
"You came back." She had said, eyeing me up as I stood on the other side of the door, "I thought I'd never see you here again."
I shrugged. "The pay is worth it." The lie slipped out of me easily because, technically, it wasn't a lie; the pay was worth it.
It was doled out in cash, with no traces or receipts. I had a stack of things I never thought I'd be able to afford myself hidden under my bed back at the house.
She studied me for a long time. It made me shift under the undivided appraisal.
And then she said, "If I let you in here, your option to walk away no longer stands. You won't be allowed to quit again. Make up your mind now; our establishment isn't a joke. We pride ourselves on it."
I understood well enough, but I came back to understand more.
I gave her my agreement, and she let me in without a hassle. After that, I was grateful I didn't have to explain my sudden change of heart. The establishment was private and reserved, but not enough to turn away their precious prizes.
I move away from the door now, my eyes moving over the girls once again. I've studied them all—every single one of them. And it's either the person who had that package delivered to me isn't here, or she's damn good at not blowing her cover.
"Alright girls!" The mistress walks into the room, clasping her hands together. "It's time; line up."
Just like all the other times, we pick ballots, taking our allotted numbers in the line. My last two days here have been far from as eventful as my first. Here, you could call me a catch; at least the mistress did. Men and women alike dropped scary sums of money for alone time with me; only this time, I didn't go to ravenous lengths behind closed doors.
They wanted very little, surprisingly.
The man from yesterday only wanted a conversation. For a whopping sum of five million. And the day before, I had only danced for a couple.
It made sense why I hadn't made any friends yet. But it didn't bother me; I didn't come here for those anyway. Just as I step into the line, the mistress pulls on my arm, jerking me out.
"No auction for you today, dear?"
"No auction for me?" I ask, "Why?"
She smiles. "Your servers have already set aside their bid; it was done.
privately, just a few minutes ago."
The girls murmur all around me, not even trying to be coy about their
disdain.
"Why didn't they go the auction route?"
"Well," she laughs, "I'm not one to meddle in the wants of our servers.
We want their money, they want their prizes, and I doubt anyone else beyond those doors would have been able to top their sum."
"Oh, I say, nodding at The Mistress.
"Your escort will take you to them." As if on cue, one of the lounge workers comes into the room.
"Follow me."
I do.
We make our way out the door and through the hallway. Once we get close to the room, the escort turns to me, holding out the safety ring. Protocol I'm now familiar with.
"Use this in any instance where your safe words are ignored."
I nod distractedly, my gaze locked on the closed door. She lets me through, gesturing for me to go on.
A waitress walks out the door, an empty tray in her hand, as she moves by me. I take in a deep breath, a strange sense of deja vu hitting me as I reach for the door handle. Again, I tell myself, they don't know it's you, and they never will.
My heart beats with a bruising rhythm against my ribcage. It's a mixture of fear, nervousness, and, most of all, anticipation.
And a tinge of exhilaration is brewing underneath the surface of my skin as I push the door open.
They're waiting on the lounge chair, sitting patiently as I step into the room. I'm dressed almost the same way I was then: thigh-high stockings, a sheer bra, and a matching thong, this time in a different color.
I stall by the door, resting my back against the frame as my heart pounds in anticipation. Both men have their eyes focused on me.
I already knew it. But only now, after seeing them, does the thought finally take root.
"Did you miss us?" Rune grins. They're back.