Chapter One
Stephen Knox stared at his friend Cadeon Ashwood where he sat across the room with his woman, Violet, who sat in his lap. It had been three months since some sick f**k had tried to take Violet and use her as a sex slave in his prostitution business. Fortunately, with the help of other members at the exclusive club, Violet had been saved.
Stephen took another long drink of his whiskey over ice, wondering what the draw was to his own club. Many men joined this club because of the possessive way they felt towards women. The consuming need inside them to mark their women as their own dominated any other need. Some of the men referred to themselves as “The Owners”. Stephen chuckled behind his glass. There were times he wondered why he didn’t close the club down. Watching the men with their women made him aware of how little he actually had in life. Being a wealthy businessman no longer made the grade for him. He lifted his empty glass to the woman working behind the bar. She nodded her head, filled another glass, and then took him the refill. Stephen took the glass, turning his gaze to the woman on stage. Her voice was pleasant to listen to, but she would never make it as a singer.
Cadeon joined him while Violet disappeared out of the room.
“You’re looking grumpy,” Cadeon said.
“And I don’t recognise you without your woman in your lap.” Stephen drained the whiskey and raised his glass for more.
“You’re drinking too much.”
Stephen shot him a look, one of his don’t-fucking-mess-with-me looks. “I’m older than you. Don’t start with me. You’re sounding like a nagging wife.”
“You’re five years older than I, Stephen. There is nothing you can say to me to shut me up.”
“I’ll take away your membership and ban you from this club and get a word against you in Ravage.” He’d do it. His reputation for being a hard-ass hadn’t been earned out of thin air.
Cadeon did not get a chance to comment as Tate and Kevin took their seats around his table. The two men looked utterly depressed.
“What’s wrong with you two?” Stephen asked. He couldn’t believe they were invading his space. Couldn’t he have two moments of peace and quiet?
Each man glared at him before they signalled to the woman behind the bar for another drink. Sean joined them last, looking pissed off.
Stephen ignored him and went back to his drink, which the woman handed straight to him.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to date the woman you love inside a house? Rebecca refuses to even try to leave her home,” Tate said.Stephen ignored him and went back to his quiet drink. He began thinking about the young woman he’d just hired to clean his house and cook his meals. Ursula Mills was a charming twenty-two-year-old college woman with an attitude, who did nothing but talk when she was in his company. She talked non-stop about anything, her courses that she was studying in college or a book she’d finished. There really was no stopping her.
She had the most beautiful deep brown hair he’d ever seen. Her hair looked similar to the shade of mahogany wood. When he’d told her his thoughts about the colour of her hair, she’d given him a death stare.
“My hair is not made out of wood,” she’d said with that stern, authoritative tone. He chuckled, thinking about the way she had placed her hand on her generous hip while she had glared at him. It had been years since a woman had had the courage to glare at him. If she’d been his woman, he would have taken her over his knee and spanked that full ass days ago.
“Someone looks like he’s in a nice place,” Cadeon said, pulling him out of his musings. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t look like the type of man to be chuckling about nothing.”
Stephen glared at Cadeon and refused to comment. The singing stopped, and he watched the woman leave the table. He couldn’t recall her name as he employed so many people to work at Club Possession. He drained his glass and stood. His ride would be waiting outside for him. Usually he stayed to the last client left, but tonight he wanted to get home. Ursula had promised to cook his dinner for eight o’clock.
“See you tomorrow, gentlemen.” Stephen shook their hands then turned ‘round and left.
He went back to his office where Lucas Sanchez stood waiting for him. He’d met the guy a few months back when Sean had introduced him. The guy wanted to join the club, but he didn’t have the income to match the rules. Stephen had liked the guy on the first meeting but knew he couldn’t break the rules to allow him access. However, giving him a job as an assistant manager meant Lucas could work and get all the perks for being Stephen’s right-hand man. There was some bad blood between Sean and Lucas. Stephen hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to get between them.
“What’s the matter, Lucas?” he asked, grabbing his coat from his chair.
“Another ten requests for members to join, along with a further petition for you to build a playroom downstairs instead of having the self-defence room.” Lucas handed him the files. Stephen glared down at the petition. There were over fifty names on the form.
“Fucking playroom. That’s what Ravage is f**king for.” He threw the file on his desk. There was a reason he didn’t have dominance playrooms. It was an agreement that his father and the previous owner of the BDSM club had arranged. If couples played in their private room then fine, but to have a public room was against that written agreement. “I’m sick and tired of men thinking they can run my own club.”
Lucas didn’t say a word. He rarely did.
“I’ll talk to James to try to get him to allow more people to join his club.”
“I doubt he will. James won’t allow just anyone to join. They have to go through many tests,” Lucas said.
“Are you a member?”
“Yes. I’m a Master at the club. Money is not a requirement for him. You have to have the skills to punish and care for a submissive. I have those skills.”
Stephen could only imagine. He was a member of Ravage, but he preferred to play with a woman in private. “I’ll deal with this tomorrow. Keep an eye on everything, and make sure nothing gets out of hand. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He left out of the back door where his allocated driver was waiting. Sitting in the back, he relaxed. No conversation passed between the driver and him. He welcomed the quiet more than conversation. Thirty minutes later his driver pulled up outside his gate and pressed the code before driving down the long road to get to the front of his house. This was the house that had been passed down to the first-born son of the next generation. If he didn’t get a son soon he wouldn’t have an heir to pass down the club and the Knox family legacy. He dismissed the driver and walked inside. The moment he walked inside his house the scent of garlic and basil assailed his nose. His mouth watered, and he moved in the direction of the kitchen.