Private Dancer

Private Dancer Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Berlin

Drugs, sex and dancing. Oh yeah. I forgot one thing. Violence. Drugs, sex, dancing and violence. I didn't know it'd be that last part when we moved to Vegas.

Our story starts with a murder. It's not just my story. It's ours. Little did we know that this meeting in the middle of the night would change our lives forever and intertwine our lives in unspeakable ways.

"Is that him?"

Emory is the one talking. We're always together so it's not a surprise that when I want to meet a strange guy in the middle of the night having just arrived to Vegas that it would be him who would come with me.

"Nah," I respond, "When we met he was a lot older."

"You sure?"

"I'm not an idiot, Emory."

"I'm not saying that Barry," he states shaking his head, "I'm just saying he's circling around. Look. He's headed this way."

I hate to admit it but Emory had a point. The blue G-Wagon circles a few times and makes it's way right next to us. In the car is a man about our age. Mid 20s...maybe early 30s---at the most. He is black guy with brown skin, a complexion to die for and eyes that set on us like a predator. Not the rapey kind of predator, by the way, but the Lion King-Scar-Safari-kind-of-predator. One thing I notice almost immediately is his body. Emory and I are both on the thin side. It's a little intimidating to see a guy like this.

He stares at us for a minute and doesn't say anything.

"You Berlin?" he finally says after an awkward moment.

I nod, "Yeah. This is Ivory?"

Emory gives me a look, "Ivory?"

"Shh..." I elbow him.

Kamal doesn't seem to care about how awkward we are. He's looking us up and down. He only cares what we look like. There isn't much to look at honestly. Two tall lean guys in sweats and gym bags. This Kamal character probably thought we were broke as hell. That's because we really were. Here he was in golden chains, a leather jacket and a brand new G-Wagon. The guy looked like money. You can smell it off of him.

I think he's going to send us away but surprisingly he doesn't.

"One black guy and one white guy. Both with green eyes," he states, "Very rare. Awesome. Get in."

"We were expecting Ansley."

"Ansley sent me. Name's Kamal. Get in. I don't got all goddam day. Got my dick tied up in a knot right now. You know how uncomfortable that is?"

I have no idea what he's talking about but by the look of it this Kamal character definitely wasn't fuckin' around. He doesn't seem like he's joking. It's something about the tone in your voice. I probably shouldn't have gotten in the car . Kamal was a shady looking guy from the start. He's the type of guy your mother would warn you not to be friends with back in school because he's `looks like trouble'. The problem is I didn't have a mother to warn me about those kind of things. Neither did Emory. So here we were headed in car with trouble.

"You get in the back," Emory states.

"What we're here because of me----"

"Get in the back," Emory grunts.

Emory gives me the look. It's the look that I have grown to learn a lot about. He can be a little overprotective at times.

I get in the backseat. Kamal's car is nice as hell. Here I am in the middle of the night with a shady looking stranger on my first night in Las Vegas. And the first thought that comes to my mind: He probably has a lot of Instagram followers. I mean this guy was lit. He just had that swag. His seats were all leather and nice. The car had to be worth more than some people's car.

"Don't touch anything," he instructs us out of nowhere, specifically me. I can see him looking in the rearview mirror as though he can smell the low bank account statement on me.

"He won't," Emory states.

"Now---you, I don't mind if you get a little touchy," Kamal states.

"He's straight," I interrupt.

"A damn shame," Kamal states.

"It's all good yo," Emory tells him.

Emory was white but he'd grown up in the inner city. He even wanted to be a rapper at some point. Kamal looks over at Emory with lust in his eyes. I'm used to it. Emory looked like one a long lost Hemsworth brother. A mix between Chris Hemsworth and Liam Hemsworth. I always thought my green eyes stuck out a little bit too much, but his almost looked perfect with his brown eyes, tanned skin and easy look. He has the look on that he always has. A very focused look as though he was the kind of the person who focused on one thing at a time and right now he keeps turning around and I know that his focus is on me.

I know what Emory is thinking. He's upset that we're here. I'm desperate to change the subject and get this guy Kamal to make us a little more comfortable.

"So you work for Ansley at the strip club?" I ask.

"Something like that," Kamal states, "I'm the top money maker. We're more like partners. I trusted him to find some new talent for the club. He didn't tell me you were so skinny."

He's not impressed with me.

"We're going to work out more," I state, "I promise we can do it. We got the talent man. Both Emory and I. We been dancing for years. Ask Ansley, go head, ask him. He came to see us dance a few times back in Cleveland and loved us."

"This ain't Ohio," he states with a clear irritated attitude, "Those bones ain't gonna cut it kid."

"I'll get bigger."

"You better. You in the big leagues now."

"Yeah we're excited."

"Shut up, Barry," Emory tells me.

I can tell why Emory says it. Kamal was annoyed. He clearly thought he was better than us. Better than me at least. The look on his face says it all. Even hearing me talk irritates him. He's been sighing the entire time I was talking. I know Emory telling me to shut up is trying to spare me more than caring about what this guy says. Emory was always the tough love kind of person.

"Berlin," I correct Emory, "That's my dance name. My dance name is Berlin."

It was a lie that I'd been dancing for years. Emory had been dancing for years. About 2 weeks ago I begged him to bring me on in his club. I'd been begging him for years before he finally agreed. My 2nd night dancing I meet a guy, an older gentleman by the name of Anslely. He was handsome and well put together. He looked like he had a lot of money. He said he saw a video of me on social media. Flew all the way down here to check me out. Later that week he invites me to Vegas. Says he has a club and wants me to work. He gives me a card. Rum and Monkey. My sister Roxana looked it up. It's the real deal. And the offer is real too. Only catch is, he wants me to bring my friend...the quiet dancer named Emory who always leaves as soon as soon as he's done dancing.

And here we were.

"When we get in here, my name is Lux. Don't use my government," Kamal states.

Right now we're pullilng up to what looks like a hotel. It's nice. Nice isn't the best way to describe it. It's brilliant. It goes up higher than I can see. The valet is coming around to pick up the car and stepping out I feel like I've been transformed into a whole different world. Kamal was right. We weren't in Ohio anymore.

Emory is hanging back as Kamal and I walk up to the doors of the entrance. I turn around confused why he's not walking anymore.

"What's wrong?"

Emory is peering at the door, "The club in here?"

"Club?" Kamal asks before laughing, "You think I'd bring some newbies straight to the club. Hell naw. We have a reputation to uphold at R&M."

"So what's this?"

"Your tryouts. A private party," Kamal states.

"A what?" Emory asks before starting to trip.

"Relax. These guys are Saudis. When they come to town, they need to be discreet. They can't come to the club. If you're worried about money..."

"Money?" Emory asks, "I'm not worried about money. I'm worried about their dicks. I don't dance for guys."

"Our club back home is for women."

"You should have looked more into the Rum and Monkey club. Our clientele are discreet men," Kamal states.

"Maybe I can do it and Emory just go home to think about it," I state.

"You ain't doing SHIT," Emory grabs me by the back of my neck, "We're leaving."

"You aren't responsible for me," I push him off, "Get the hell off."

There was no way I was turning down money. No way in hell. I understood what Emory was saying though. It was one little thing I forgot to mention to him when Roxana looked up the club. The club was most definitely a club for gay men. I knew he wouldn't come all the way out here if he knew that. Truth was I was risking it.

"They have very particular tastes, the Saudis," Kamal states, "Why do you think Ainsley searched around the country. We showed the Saudis your pictures. They want BOTH of you."

"Nah..." Emory states, "Take us home."

Emory gets real serious when he has his mind set on something. He gets real strong too. He has me by the back of my neck and I know that he's not going to let me up. I try to pull away again but he damn near puts me in a headlock at this point.

"5 thousand each...downpayment," Kamal states, "Not including the tips..."

Emory stops moving. I look at him. He looks at me. We didn't make that kind of money in Ohio ever. What the fuck? Kamal crosses his arms and puts a smirk on his face. This guy was trouble and we both knew it but this was the kind of trouble that I wasn't too opposed to. If he was talking about this kind of money then that changed everything.

"Can I talk to my brother---in private?" Emory asks.

"Brother?" Kamal asks.

"Brother-in-law," I correct Kamal, "He's married to my sister."

Emory hates when I make the correction. It's just weird because he never hesitates to call me brother. That's the kind of person he was. When he met my sister Roxana, I thought she lucked up and got the most amazing guy in the world. It wasn't that my sister Roxana wasn't pretty. She had her moments, but she wasn't the kind of girl who you thought would score a guy that looked like Emory. Maybe it was because she was a bit of a bitch at times. That didn't scare Emory off though. He seemed to get turned on by it. And I knew that there were no two people in the world that were met for one another like Emory and Roxana.

Kamal goes into the lobby and we're standing outside. Emory has his hands on his head.

"I promised Roxana that if you come into this lifestyle that I'd protect you," he starts with, " I got a bad feeling about this, Barry. I really do. Guys? You know I'm not even gay---"

"I am, just let me do most of the flirting and you just do your best."

"It's not just that. I was in the military. The middle east is real anti-gay."

"They requested us. It's not like they are going to be surprised that we have dicks," I state, "They are just a bunch of closet cases. I've met a million in my life. They go out of town and become themselves. That's all this is. They are harmless. Plus you do need the money."

"We do. Roxana needs it now more than ever. That's probably why she didn't mention it's a gay club. She knew I'd turn down the money. I can hear her now..."

"She wants you to do this," I state.

"But I don't do private parties for a reason..."

"How about this? Do this for me and then you can leave. I'll be dancing at the R&M and you can go dance at one of the straight clubs."

"We do things together," he states, "That's how it's always been."

"Well I'm going to go do this. Are you going to be my brother and be down for me."

"You playing the brother card?"

"I never had a brother," I state, "I don't care if you're white. You're my brother. And I need you."

I know what I'm doing. He'd always been a sucker for the "brother card". I don't know why. He talked a little about growing up and not getting along with his own brother. He talks about his regrets when he ran away from home and lost touch with his family. I guess all that regret manifested itself in his relationship with me.

Emory grabs me by my neck, "I swear you owe me for this..."

~

The hotel suites we are staying with seem to describe Las Vegas Luxury to the T. It seems the Saudis have leased out the entire floor. I almost felt like royalty as I walked through. Kamal wasn't playing when he said that they had high-end clientele. Truth is I didn't even know how I was going to eat tomorrow before I came here. I was never smart. I didn't have skills. All I had was a handsome face that guys liked to look at, unique eyes, abs and a plump ass. All qualities I thought would never get me anywhere. I was wrong. It seems like all those Instagram posts I made have been affirmed as I walk into what seems like a haven for high-rollers and A-listers — and it's no wonder. The private gated entrance ensures extra privacy, and each villa comes with its own heated pool, putting green, and 24-hour butler.

We are taken to the bathrooms to change and I can already hear the music going and the sound of Saudi money in the background just ready to be given.

"What's taking so long?" Kamal asks walking into the bathroom, "We can't keep the guests waiting. I'm doing my best to keep them entertained but they have their fetishes. They have a specific type."

Kamal shows up to the door in a g-string and an oiled up chest. He has a load of money in his hands. It makes me even more nervous when I take a look at his body. How the fuck was I supposed to compete with that? How the fuck was I supposed to get attention when they'd already seen Kamal out there.

Now I'm the one having second thoughts, "I can't get hard."

"Are you kidding me?" Kamal asks, "Get out there. You're a power bottom anyway from the looks of that ass of yours. Those guys don't care how hard your dick is."

"Can you give us a minute? He has a complex of dancing while soft. It's just the nerves," Emory pleads with Kamal.

Kamal looks irritated. He walks over to the other side of the bathroom and goes to his phone. It's easy for him to say. He's not the one who has to dance. I don't want to go out there soft and for some reason the weight of all of this isn't helping. Not even a cock ring.

"I can't do this," I state.

"You can do this. We do this together, remember? Family. Remember?" he asks.

I nod, "Family. Yeah family."

"Ok, bro. What do you need me to do to get you hard?"

"What?"

"Listen. You got me this far. We not going to walk away from that bag," he states, "So what do I got to do to get you hard."

I sigh a little bit, "You don't want to know the answer to that."

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't."

"Roxana would kill me."

"She'd kill me if we came all the way to Vegas to leave empty handed," he states, "So what do I need to do?"

"Just, like...my neck," I admit, "And my ass...just...you know...just eh...oh shit!"

Before I can finish Emory is my neck. His tongue licks the side of my neck. He's slow at first. His lips biting down firmly like some sort of vampire so hard that at first I think he's going to pierce the skin but then softening it up with a wet tongue. I take a deep breath at that moment gasping a little bit when I feel his lips up against my neck. That's when I feel his hand circle around behind me. Slowly, he touches the side of my abdomen and works his way. His hands are so strong and so goddam firm. They work their way to my back. He scoops my asscheeks in his hand. At this point I don't have anything on but a g-string with my dick in a pouch. His fingers twirl around the g-string, threatening with each touch to get closer and closer to my asshole.

"Dammit," I whisper under my breath.

Just at that moment when he's so close to fingering me, when his finger is almost on the inside of my asshole...he stops. He stops right at that moment and doesn't do anything.

"Ok," he states, "You're good. Let's get out there."

He walks away. I watch him walk away. He was so sexy with his tan skin. His ass was nice too. Not as round as mine but more of a toned ass. He was slim but he worse it well.

I'm standing there like an idiot, "Eh..."

I look down. Sure enough, I'm hard now. I wasn't going down anytime soon. I was a brick. What's even worse is that that I've precum a little bit.

"You coming?" he asks.

For a moment I think he is asking me if I'm cumming. And I'm scared that I just might if he got too close to me again. I need to cool down a little bit.

"Just a moment."

I'm standing there stuck as he leaves out to entertain our hosts. That's when I remember Kamal is still in the room. He's staring at me with judgmental eyes. Maybe he noticed how heavy I released my breath when Emory left the room. Or maybe he noticed something else about me that I just can't put my finger on. Either way Kamal definitely noticed something. He looks over at me and shakes his head as he walks over.

"Thought you said he was straight," Kamal states.

"He is."

"Oh dear," Kamal states, "How tragic. The gay boy in love with his sister's straight husband."

Kamal snickers in a wicked way and walks away. What's weird is that he doesn't ask me. He doesn't even question me. He tells me. It's as though Kamal could read my mind or something. Was it that obvious? My biggest secret in the world had just been revealed so casually. No one knew. I could never do something like that to Roxana, but deep inside I knew that it was always true. From the very first moment I saw him dance when I went to the club on Roxana's birthday, I knew I was in love with him. We talked the whole night. He was asking me all these questions about me and my life. He wanted to know about how my parents died. He wanted to know about how me and my sister grew up. I thought I'd found the love of my life that night. I was wrong. Of course, it was Roxana who ended up taking Emory home that night.

And I thought it would fade. I thought I'd get over it when I found out they were dating. I was wrong. I thought I'd get over it when I found out they were moving in together. I was wrong. I thought I got over it when when he asked her to marry him. Or maybe when they did get married. Maybe I would have gotten over it when he chose me as his best man.

I'd always been wrong.

I was still in love with Emory. I was still desperately in love with Emory.

Lux

"How much for after?"

It's gonna cost. My name was Kamal Jefferson. I was 28 years old and I'm looking for love. Love of money that is. I enjoy hiking up escalators of luxury hotels and I like taking long strolls to the ATM. I had a taste for the finer things in life. And nothing was going to change that about me. That's why they named me Lux. Vegas was a fast world and sometimes you just had to put on your very best expensive shoes and outrun it.

Vegas was Sin City. Survival of the fittest.

Everything cost.

And everything was expensive.

"How much you got?"

"Whatever it takes. But I have particular fetishes..."

"What kind of fetishes?"

"No sex."

"Then what?"

"You'll just have to see."

I sit there and think. It's weird he's talking about fetishes and but he won't tell me what it is. Then again I've done some grimy shit for cash in my line of work. Maybe he wanted me to piss on him. Maybe he wanted me to shit on him. Maybe he wanted me to wear a wig and beat him. These wealthy guys had weird fetishes and they were all bullshit for the most part. Nothing to be worried about for sure.

At the end of the day I wasn't about to start growing morals now. Fuck that. I came for the bag.

It's gonna cost---that was my motto.

"20 Thousand."

"Done."

"Done?"

Usually I go high so that we can meet in the middle somewhere. Honestly this time it was just a joke, but I watch as he leans over and counts 20 stacks right there in front of me.

"Done. Hit some more..." the Saudi offers me.

The man's name is Said. He smells like Bourbon. He's a heavy set man. Sloppy to look at but he seems like the one who had the most money. He was the one throwing this party after all. I was used to guys like that. He hands me some cocaine out of a paper towel.

I feel the rush of euphoria and this immediate rush of energy flow through my body as soon as I take another hit. I smile a little bit. These were good drugs. The kind of drugs that Saudis took.

"You guys want some?" I ask the so-called "brothers".

Barry and Emory both look at me. It's Emory who takes a step towards me before Barry grabs him and pulls him back.

"We're good," Emory states.

"You sure?" I ask.

I don't want to say it in front of the clientele, but it's clear that Barry was having a hard time keeping up. There were about 10 Saudis in the room and he'd given danced for about two hours. He'd made a very decent bankroll but I can tell he's getting tired. I have to admit Barry surprised me. He was skinny but the little thing definitely knew how to move his ass.

Emory on the other hand. He was damn near a stick in the mud, "I said he's good."

He'd been acting weird this entire time. He'd been giving the Saudi's these half ass dances. He was definitely straight and there was no doubt about it. He was so turned off even being in the room. Emory looked the part but it was clear to see how uncomfortable he was.

Rookies.

Coke did wonders for me. Some users find that snorting cocaine helps them perform amazing tasks. Just like me getting on a hand-stand and thrusting my dick into Said's face. I watch Said give my dick a long hard squeeze. I have no underwear on so he is literally squeezing my dick, milking me almost as though I was some sort of cow.

"Good little bitch," he says, "I can't wait until our private time."

I don't take it to be rude or abrasive. I was a dancer. This is what I did.

That's when I see his eyes staring at me from across the room. He'd come in late. He hadn't been entertaining anything like the rest of the Saudi's. The new Saudi was the only one that looked anywhere near attractive. He had olive skin. He has this skin complexion that just looked fucking amazing to say the least. He was perfect. Fucking perfect.

I get away from Said who has turned his sights on Barry who is slowly winding and jerking on a table, probably from the lack of energy that he has from dancing for hours.

"You want a lap dance?"

"No," the handsome Saudi says.

"You been staring," I state, "I notice you staring."

The Saudi turns away. He clearly is a little shy and anxious at this moment. I'm not sure what that means.

"Just not...used to this," he states, "My Uncle Said brought me here. It's my first time to America."

"You speak good English."

"I had good tutors," he states, "Just not used to this."

"It's easy. Here give me your hands. All you have to do is touch me all over. Just like this," I tell him, "How's that feel?"

He has an innocent look to him. Don't get me wrong. He's tall and attractive as all hell. He almost looks like some sort of Middle Eastern model. He has on an Arabic thrawb. The long white tunic fits loosely but when I sit on his lap I can feel it. I've gotten him excited. I begin to rock my his slowly his lap. He tightens his hold against my slim hips. He's looking up in my eyes. His face seems almost mesmerized. These kinds of dances were my favorite. These kind of men who seemed so innocent and removed from this lifestyle. These were the kind of men that I loved the most.

"It feels...good..." he says nervously, "Do I tip you. I have money...or..."

He's nervous.

"Just enjoy," I state, "What's your name?"

"Nasim."

"Give me your finger Nasim."

"What?"

"Give me your finger."

I take his finger. The others aren't looking at this moment. They are all entertained by Emory and Barry. That's when I decide to take things to the next level. Something about this guy is turning me on. I don't know what it is. It just feels like I want him to experience everything America had to offer. So I keep his finger real sturdy and hold it still until he gets the idea. I lower it right below me. I lift up. And then I sit on his finger. I open my mouth as I go down on his finger. His mouth opens at the same time mines does. He's inside of me right now. He feels the warmth of me on his finger tip. He exhales and I inhale at the same time. I take his breath in.

We breathe together.

"Oh fuck...I'm so wet," I whimper.

"Stay with me tonight..." he states.

"That will cost extra Nasim," I state.

"I don't care. I want you to stay with me tonight," he tells me, "My room is down the hall. Away from Said."

The way he looks at me. It's as though he needs me to. He's never been with a man before. He probably never even really thought about it. His Uncle had most likely brought him to Vegas to fulfill some fetish. They can get wild here. When you have money like they had money, you get bored easily. I guess the local virgins weren't cutting it. They had to step it up. So they come to Vegas. And they meet guys like me. And they look at me with those eyes that Nasim is looking at me with.

The eyes of someone who doesn't know what I am.

I am the Worst.

But tonight, I put on my mask and I become Lux. I become the best.

"Let me just go tell the other dancers I'm leaving," I state, "And I'll come with you."

~'

I pull Barry Berlin and Emory to the side.

"I'm leaving with one of the Saudis..." I state.

"The handsome one?" Barry asks, "He's been watching you all night. What you doing some sort of private dance or something."

I give Barry a look. He said he'd been doing this for years but I knew this was a lie. This kid was way too green to know what was going on.

"He's an escort too, Barry," Emory crosses his arms.

Barry looks shocked, "What?"

"Welcome to Sin City," I announce with a smile, "But I need one of you guys to go get the bag from the one named Said. I promised him I'd take him home too."

"You want us to escort?" Emory asks.

"No sex. He just has fetishes," I state.

Barry looks more confused than ever, "Like what?"

I shrug, "I don't fucking know. Who cares. It's 20 grand and no sex. What the fuck does it matter?"

"I'll do it," Barry states.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Emory asks, "You ain't doing shit..."

"Emory be reasonable," I interrupt, "I'm giving you guys the chance of a lifetime. You got it like that to walk away from 20 thousand dollars?"

He pauses. Money was the root of all things. I can see it a mile away that he didn't have it like that. Neither of them did. Truthfully, I should have taken the money but there was something about this Nasim guy. Something that interested me. If I was smart I'd tell the pretty boy to kick rocks and go with Said, but hell...maybe I was trying something different.

"You're tired," Emory states, "I can see it all in your eyes."

"Not for 20k I'm not tired. This can be a brand new start for us. A brand new start for all three of us," Barry tells his brother-in-law with this eagerness in his eyes, "All four of us. You know that Roxana is pregnant..."

That's what it was. That's where the desperation was coming from. The straight guy had a pregnant wife at home. Ainsley sure did know how to pick out frantic and distressed boys. I look at these two guys and all I can think of is how I used to be them. Empty and down on my luck when all of a sudden I see Ainsley offering me a new life. The Rum and Monkey changed everything for me. Once you get a taste of easy money, you never go back.

"You don't have to---" Emory tells him, "I'll do it."

Barry and I are both shocked.

"Serious?"

"I'll do it and split the money with you. I'll make sure to get it up front and you can take it home."

~

I wake up the next day with this weird feeling in my stomach. I remember calling an Uber the night before so that Barry could go home. I remember that Emory stayed with Said to take care of his fetishes. What I don't remember is what happened between me and the guy I'm laying next to.

Nasim.

I focused on his eyes, which were darting back and fourth, shining in the sunlight. They were a deep, earthy brown - the color of the earth after rains. But there was something else in them, something glistening. Glistening like an old copper penny that my Dad used to collect. I always thought it was so stupid when my dad kept those pennies. I always said I'd never be like that. I'd make REAL money. No pennies. I'd never be broke again. Yet there was something in Nasim's eyes that reminded me of those pennies. The roots are held in place the same way his dark, liquidy eyes held so tightly onto his secrets.

The man with the penny eyes. Nasim. I look at him in that moment the same way my dad would look at his pennies. They weren't worth much but they meant everything to him. Who knew pennies could be worth so much?

He is staring at me. God this guy was beautiful.

"Did we do anything last night?" I ask.

"Nah...I just held you," he responds.

"It's still going to cost," I state.

He nods, sitting up, "I'm not trying to cheat you out of your money. That's what I wanted to do. I just wanted to lay next to you."

That's when he leans over and gives me a wad of cash. Before releasing it though he just stares in my eyes. He's not letting the money go.

"What?" I ask.

"You don't have to do stuff like this, you know that?" he asks.

Stuff like this? I get irritated at that moment. He was innocent. He didn't understand what I had to do and what I didn't have to do. He was raised with money. He was raised with privilege. He would never understand.

"Give me my money and take me to Emory. I did my job."

"Did I say something to upset you?"

"Any more conversation will cost you," I tell him.

I'm serious. He turns away. That's what I get for being soft with this guy in the first place. All I could think about was how Emory got so much more money than this. All I could think about was how I should have gone with Said instead of Nasim.

Nasim is quiet as he takes me down the hall after I put my clothes on. His mouth hangs open like he wants to say something but he doesn't.

I'm glad.

By the time we get to the room I see a group of people there.

"Prince Nasim, your Uncle isn't opening up the room," one of the men states.

"Prince?" I ask.

Nasim looks over at me. I should have known. I should have fucking known by how far Ainsley had gone to recruit Barry and Emory just to fulfill Said's requests. This wasn't just a rich guy. These were fucking Saudi Princes!

"Please wait here," Nasim instructs me.

"Yes sir..."

This changed everything. I was just fucking rude to a fucking prince. What the fuck was wrong with me? I knew better than that. Goddam it, Ainsley! Why didn't you tell me who the fuck I was dealing with by coming here. I would have treated this guy like gold.

Nasim knocks on the door.

"Uncle Said," Nasim is knocking harder, "It's Nasim. Uncle Said?"

No answer. The look on everyone's face is kind of weird. He was just asleep most likely. What the hell was going on.

"Is Emory in there?" I ask, "They probably got worn out by all the fetishes."

"Fetishes?" Nasim asks, "Is that what he was said?"

Everyone has a look in their eyes. A worried look. What the fuck was going on?

"I have an extra key sir," the 24 hour butler says walking up.

I stand there confused while the 24 hour butler walks up and opens the door. My mouth drops open when I see what I see.

Said is sitting there with blood. He's covered in it. It's not his blood. It's Emory. Emory is sitting there is a puddle of his own blood lifeless.

Nasim has a look of shock on his face, "Uncle Said, not again..."

Again?

"You brought him here?" Said asks pointing over at me.

I start backing away.

"Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit!"

Emory was dead!

Said shakes his head, "I just like tying boys up and seeing them in pain. It just went a little too far. Just went a little too far..."

Nasim shakes his head, "Fuck..."

That's when I'm being grabbed from every direction. Said looks me in my eyes.

"I'm going to clean this up. But we need to make sure we have a story here..."

A story?

Fuck.

My heart races. This was worst than anything I'd ever been through. This was some fucked up shit. But everything had a price. EVERYTHING.

"It's gonna cost you," I state.