Chapter 24: Putting On A Show
Savannah
The hostess ushered us out of the booth where we were previously seated, past soundproofed walls and loud moans. Past the sound of whips and the rattling of chains. Past the rough grunts and painful cries of people living out their erotic fantasies.
Until we stopped in front of a door. Room 6.
Roman’s arm was still around my waist, gripping. I could feel how tense he was.
The hostess ushered us in and shut the door. The silence in the room was deafening. It almost felt like a shooting range. It was soundproofed to mask a battle. And tastefully furnished for wealthy men with taboo fantasies.
Black velvet walls. Gold trim. Crystal lights that dripped from the ceiling like frozen rain. The scent of expensive perfume, leather, and a whisper of something darker clung to the air. Everything pulsed with quiet decadence. The kind of place that made men lie and women become legends.
The music was low, almost seductive. Not loud enough to drown conversations—just enough to stretch silen

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