Besides, it was apparent everyone underestimated me. I had no intentions of surrendering to any man under any circumstances, no matter what appeared in my journal.
Then why are you quivering?
I wasn’t entirely certain. My thoughts returned to my belief that someone had riffled through my things.
“And leave your phone here.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I doubt you want your phone confiscated. They don’t want any possibility of pictures being taken and seen on social media.”
“Jesus Christ. What are they afraid of?”
“As I’ve told you, they’re very private. They handle business that they don’t want anyone to know about.”
“They’re fucking college students.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be naive, Ava . They are already millionaires from the various businesses they rule. Take the President of the club, Clinton Cross. He’s following in his father’s footsteps and has been for a while.”
Rule, not run. Her word uAva was getting stranger. “Which is?”
Her nervousness was even more evident. “Mafia.”
I’d heard kids of mafia families were enrolled in the school. It really hadn’t bothered me until hearing the way she mentioned the single world. “So they really are dangerous.”
“Oh, you bet. There are rumors they’ve handled business out of the house.”
“Why are you just telling me this now?” I wanted to strangle her for the push and pull.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to get caught in the system.”
“Don’t worry about me. I have my entire life planned out. Why go to post-grad at all? Why not follow in daddy’s footsteps and be done with it?”
“Because it’s required. Come on. These parties are rare. That’s one reason I asked you to come with me.” She plastered a smile on her face, and I started questioning more than just my reason for being invited.
After tossing her purse in the back, she didn’t wait for my response, exiting the vehicle in a hurry.
I thought about what she was saying, sliding my small clutch under the seat. The weirdness surrounding the Elite was becoming more disturbing. My thoughts drifted to my mother’s phone call and the fact that someone had been in our suite. There was no way the events could be a coincidence.
As Kennedy led us toward the front door, I noticed at least four security guards manning the front of the estate, two more burly guys at the door. For some reason, the sight of them bothered me more than it should. Were they hiding something I shouldn’t be allowed to see? The stories about the Damned were the thing legends were made of. Debauchery and violence. I knew better than to believe fifty percent of what I’d heard. Still, my mother’s words weighed on my mind. Yes, there were some very bad people in this world.
“Oh, you’re going to be frisked,” she said in passing.
“What for? Are they worried about weapons?”
“Hardly. They’re all skilled marksmen. That’s part of their training.”
“Their training?” I stopped her on the sidewalk, more uncertain than ever if I wanted to go inside.
She cocked her head, the light from the lampposts allowing me to see her frustration. She’d gone from warning me to chastising me in the blink of an eye. “I shouldn’t have mentioned anything, so don’t ask about things you don’t want to learn about. They’re looking for anyone who’s wired.”
“What?”
“Privacy. Every ritual is secret. Even I don’t know all that goes on behind closed doors.”
I doubted I wanted to. “Fine. You owe me for this.”
Kennedy was allowed inside by face recognition only. I was forced to endure being patted down by a monster of a man with a surly attitude and rough hands. When he slipped his fingers under my dress, touching my panties, I shoved him as hard as possible, resisting driving my knee into his crotch. “Watch it, asshole.”
“Tell your friend to keep her mouth shut,” he snarled.
“She’s a visitor.” Kennedy’s voice was more timid than I was used to.
“I don’t give a fuck if she’s the freaking Queen of England, consort. She gets frisked.”
Wow. The guy was a real asshole. “Just get it over with.” I didn’t add the nasty words to the end I really wanted to. His grin was lecherous as he moved to my chest, enjoying the hell out of fondling my breasts. I was nauseated, gritting my teeth to keep from saying something I’d regret.
“The rules for while you’re inside,” he snarled. “Stay in the party room, or you’ll be expelled and you won’t like how that happens. The rest of the house is off limits unless you’re invited.”
By the way he issued the statement, I had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen.
However, I’d evidently passed the barbaric test, and our entrance was allowed.
“Jerk,” I muttered.
“Shush,” she whispered. “Just stay in the room and you’ll be fine.”
“What if I have to use the bathroom?”
“Jesus, girl. There’s a suite of them adjoining the main ballroom. You’re allowed to go there but nowhere else. And I mean it.”
I was beginning to hate agreeing to come with her. What had originally sounded like fun seemed entirely different. Maybe I was wrong, but it seemed like she’d been summoned to the house, required to attend the party.
As soon as I walked inside the mansion, I was shocked by the opulence, especially for a house designed for college boys. From the Italian marble floor in the entrance foyer and the opulent chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling to the dozens of gorgeous red Marias in a huge crystal vase on the glass table, the facility screamed extreme wealth. The curved staircase leading to all four additional floors was ornate, the iron work in the railings incredible.
I was used to seeing expensive things, but the entire setting reeked of power.
There were no escorts leading the way, but we followed several people, ending up in a great room that had to be at least fifteen hundred square feet. We’d passed through hallways adorned with exquisite works of art in vibrant colors, every piece a vivid vision of sexual acts. I found myself unable to take my eyes off them, my head spinning at the intricacy of how they’d been painted. There was no doubt in my mind that the artist had had live models as inspiration.
Whips.
Chains.
A cage with two naked women inside. The depictions were beautiful instead of being vulgar, but the egotism of the artist was evident by the bold strokes and thickness of paint. They were also a reflection of the misogynistic attitudes of the men who lived in the house. They obviously believed women were playthings and nothing more.
Swallowing, I allowed my gaze to linger for a little longer, memorizing the poses. What if someone had seen my journal and that was the reason I’d been invited? The thought was titillating, even though I knew I should turn around and walk out.
You can do this. Just enjoy it.
As if that was possible.
“The house is beautiful,” I half whispered, fearful I’d draw attention to our arrival.
“You should see the bedroom suites. They are to die for.” Kennedy’s off-the-cuff announcement didn’t shock me more than any of her other behavior. She was a free spirit, which made what she’d said earlier more disturbing.
Every aspect of the ballroom was gothic in nature, the thick velvet drapes adorning dark woods and regal furniture. At least the music wasn’t from the last century, the dark dance vibes pulsating in every muscle. I noticed a flash of lightning outside and shivered.
“Let’s get a drink,” Kennedy suggested, leading me by the arm toward one of two massive bars in the room. I couldn’t help but notice the bartender was gorgeous, his arm muscles pushing against the tight confines of his black shirt.
“I’ll have a Coke,” I told him, which forced Kennedy to wrinkle her nose. She ordered a screwdriver and I sighed. It would seem I’d be the designated driver. I sensed her nervousness increasing, which kept me on edge. Still, a part of me was intrigued with why the Elite were given so much credit.
“Kennedy, baby. There you are. And who is this luscious friend you brought with you tonight?”
The deep voice was intoxicating, the rumble his husky tone created shifting straight to my core. I glanced in her direction, noticing a split second of hesitation-or maybe it was raw fear-before she smiled.
“Christian. This is my bestie, Ava .”
Christian. The name alone was something out of romance novels.
He took my hand into his, pulling my knuckles to his mouth. As soon as he pressed his voluptuous lips against my skin, a quiver drifted down my spine. To say he was stunning with his dark hair and sculpted muscles was an understatement, but it was his eyes that drew me in. They were luminous, a luscious emerald green tinged with gold flecks. I swallowed, trying to control my nerves.
“Quite possibly the most gorgeous woman in the room.”
If Kennedy was perturbed by his words, she didn’t show it, turning toward a group of girls who’d approached. I could tell Christian thought I’d be bowled over by the compliment. I knew how guys worked. I wasn’t immune to social media or the giggly girls in my various classes. They thought they’d find true love behind the walls of the City of Hope.
I knew better.
If anything, they’d find an unhappy marriage.