Page 131 of Seven
I touched the pendant at my throat, carefully, not to leave any fingerprints. My eyes continued to study the rest of the room, the darkest corner of it where chains looped over iron hooks. On a shelf somewhere behind the chair, a parade of toys marched from small to obscene: dildos, plugs, clamps, more things I didn't have names for.
My gag reflex made an appearance.
I swallowed it down and tried not to move around too much in case someone was watching me.
You looked nervous if you paced. The trick was to hold still. Stillness read as confidence, or sometimes just vacancy. The kind of vacancy men paid for when they wanted to do certain things to a woman's body.
In the mirror, I examined my disguise and the outfit Cosmo had givenme. The wig looked fine. The makeup was good enough to make me unrecognizable.
The club-issued pink dress—if you could call it that—was a micro-mini that barely covered my bra and panties. More of a wide belt than a garment paired with black platforms.
I looked like someone who'd seen a hundred too many TikToks aboutthe baddest bitch in the club. I looked nothing like myself. I looked nothing like anyone, really.
The door opened without a warning.
Why would he be polite anyway?
I reminded myself to act chill as I slowly turned around to face Caius Valmont.
He entered like he owned the oxygen. Not a big man—average height, stocky, but built like he could deadlift a horse without breaking a sweat. Expensive suit, tie loosened, shirt open at the throat. His hair was as black as the wig on my head, but his was flecked with gray, especially at the temples.
I felt my heart dropping to my knees, felt adrenaline spiking, anger flaring up.
His eyes landed on me. They were darker than I remembered, almost black. They lingered a little too long at my face, which made me wonder if he recognized something underneath the makeup, but I kept my expression blank and smiled at him.
"I was told there's a nice surprise waiting for me tonight," Valmont finally said, shutting the door behind him.
"Hope you like what you see," I replied, trying to keep my pitch as high as possible.
"We'll see, won't we? He walked to the chair, sat, and crossed one leg over the other. A flicker of gold winked at his wrist—a watch, probably worth more than my car.
He let the silence build until it went from uncomfortable to unbearable.
His voice was unremarkable, the kind that wouldn't register if you heard it on the radio. But in person, it vibrated with a resonance that made my skin crawl.
I produced a smile. "I'm game for whatever… What should I call you?"
"You can call me Master."
"You got it." A first wave of nausea was coming up. "Master."
He gestured with a finger. "Turn around for me, Princess."
I did. Not fast, not slow, just a turn that let the tight hem of my dressflirt with the tops of my thighs. I tried to imagine myself on a merry-go-round, centrifugal force peeling away all the fear.
When he didn't say anything, I stopped, put a hand on my hip, and let my other hand trail up to my collarbone.
"Nice," he said, and this time his eyes flicked to my breasts.
I moved to stand closer, but not all the way. I'd been told by Cosmo never to approach the throne unless summoned. So I waited.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
"Should I?" I kept my voice light, just a hint of challenge. Seven had said men like Valmont couldn't resist explaining things to women who played dumb.
He smiled, but there was nothing warm about it. "You will."
He let his gaze roam, taking in my legs and my platforms. "Take off the dress," he commanded.
