Chapter 128

MADDISON

John, our night bartender, strolls into the bar right on schedule, his face as unreadable as ever. I’ve been filling in for him while he was on vacation, a task that came at just the right time, according to Atticus. Today, I’m meeting John for the first time.

He’s an older guy, his gaze indifferent as he surveys the lively crowd filling the club.

“You must be Maddison,” he says, securing his apron around his waist.

“Maddy,” I correct him, cringing at the sound of my full name, a name that my father used far too often. The memory sends a shiver down my spine, but the knowledge that he’s gone—and I played a part in that—leaves me feeling strangely detached.

“Maddy,” John repeats, a genuine smile on his face.

“Has Atticus shown you the ropes? Is there anything you need me to explain?” he asks.

“Um. Actually, he’s shown me the basics, but the questions I have go beyond bartending,” I admit, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“That’s fine. I’m sure he’ll answer any questions you have. I heard you’re serving tonight; I’ll make sure the drinks are ready on time. I’ll leave them at nine.” He gestures to the other side of the bar.

“That’ll be great, and I’ll leave the used glasses in return.”

Our conversation is brief and to the point. John returns to his indifferent demeanor as he takes over the bar, and I follow Atticus to my next task.

Tonight, I’m responsible for three rooms. It doesn’t sound too daunting, but let me tell you, the night is already off to an interesting start.

I wasn’t expecting to walk into a full-blown BDSM scene, with a woman tied up and being used by two men.

I glance at Atticus, fear etched on my face. I’m worried he might tell Asher that I find this…intriguing.

But then I notice that he’s adjusting himself, clearly affected in the same way I am. He clears his throat, and I quickly look away from his pants.

Before he can say anything, I dart around the room, introducing myself and asking each client if they need anything.

I ask them how their evening is going, if there’s anything I can do to make it better. Their responses are brief, their attention focused on the woman suspended in the air.

The two men are taking turns with her, her moans filling the room, and I can feel my panties getting wet.

With every step, I can hear the squelching sound, and it’s both embarrassing and problematic. I barely make it out of the room, my skin flushed and sticky, my heart pounding.

But it’s not fear that’s causing this reaction. My life has changed drastically, and I’m discovering new emotions and physical responses that make my heart race, just like the fear of punishment used to under Sanctum’s rules.

The second room is much quieter, with a man performing oral sex on another man who’s chained up like a dog, a collar around his neck and a leash in the other man’s hand.

There are two men watching, their eyes glued to the scene. Neither of them asks for a drink, so I leave and head to the next room.

This room is the busiest, and I think it’s because Grayson is the kind of dom everyone wants to watch. He’s standing there in nothing but boxers that cling to his thighs and his erection, with the girl from earlier kneeling in front of him in just her underwear.

I press my back against the wall, forgetting about my job as I watch him interact with her. He strokes her cheek with his thumb, his smile reserved just for her.

“What will I do with you, pet?” he asks her, his voice controlled.

“Punish me, master,” she replies, her eyes meeting his as she looks up from his feet.

He smirks, and a wave of jealousy washes over me. I’m jealous because I want to be the one at his feet, the one he teases with the unknown.

He strides away from her, leaving her in a state of longing. Her eyes trail after him, filled with desire, as he picks up a riding crop.

His eyes sweep across the room, a confident smile playing on his lips at the sheer number of spectators gathered to watch him.

Then his gaze lands on me, standing near the entrance, almost hidden behind a large, muscular guy.

I should be mingling, checking on everyone, taking drink orders—fulfilling my new role.

But I’m not. Instead, I feel like I’m playing with fire because I’ve caught Grayson’s attention, and I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

He freezes, everyone following his gaze, all eyes on me.

It’s far from comfortable, far from what I intended, but it’s happening. A thrill like no other surges through me, fueled by the allure of the forbidden.

“You want to watch?” Grayson asks, making his way through the crowd to stand in front of me.

His hand reaches out to caress my slightly parted lips, reveling in my presence.

He’s smirking, looking devilishly handsome as he sizes me up.

“She’s just making sure you’re following the rules… Gray, please remove your hand from my staff,” Atticus interjects, now standing just inside the door.

His words douse my excitement, pulling me back to reality with his deep, threatening tone.

“Maybe she wants to join in,” Grayson suggests, his eyes locked on mine even as he addresses Atticus.

“Maddy won’t be participating tonight,” Atticus assures him, stepping forward to place himself between us.

I risk a glance around the room. Everyone, including the girl on the floor, is staring at me.

Curiosity, assessment, confusion, and even envy are evident on their faces.

“Fine,” Grayson grumbles, disappointment seeping into his voice as his features fall.

He turns his attention back to the girl in front of him—and the scene resumes.

“Now, pet. About your punishment,” he growls at her—a tone I’m sure was provoked by Atticus’s denial.

I seize my chance to escape, brushing past Atticus, who stands with his arms crossed, glaring at the pair with a look of disapproval.

Exiting the room feels like coming up for air after a deep dive.

Shit… What would I have done if Atticus hadn’t intervened?