“I can’t believe I willingly brought you here—with him no less—but if it puts a smile on your face...” Sadie grins. “You’re not yourself when you’re moping about.”

“You’re right. My parents—the shock from the press—it got to me. I didn’t mean to spill my tears all over you.”

“Miss, you can spill your tears on me anytime.” Her smile turns into a worried frown. “Please, promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

“I won’t, it’s why I brought him.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about. I know you’d rather not hear me say it, but—he’s got his eye on you. Be careful, alright?”

“I always am.”

Sadie glares at Radjerd through the rearview mirror. “I know he doesn’t understand a thing I say, but you can tell him if he thinks he’s getting a free shot at you tonight—I’ll clock his lights out.”

“Just get home in one piece, and I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Do you think staying the night is the best idea—”

“I got a room here, and I’ll get him his own.”

“Your masks are in the trunk.” With one click, Cordelia hears the trunk doors open. Velvet gleaming masks, optional, but preferred for Cordelia. As a Firthe, she wouldn’t take any chances.

<As we discussed, your name is Brett, and I’m Lexa.>

<I still think Brett is a weird name.>

<No, it’s salacious.> Cordelia laughs.

<Ah, I shouldn’t complain. If you wish for me to be Brett, Brett I shall become. He takes the black mask and slides the elastic around his head. <I probably look like a supervillain.>

<Actually, the getup works quite well.> Cordelia says as the two walk away from the vehicle. They walk up multiple flights of stairs, giving them enough time to rehearse their names. By the time they get to the bouncer, both are checked in and are free to do as they please.

Dim rouge lighting gives the place a warm, sensual feel. Soft jazz echoes through the place. The bar’s aglow with warm orange lights, optimal for setting the mood. Radjerd briefly steps away to use the restroom. While he’s busy, she’ll get drinks.

As she approaches the bar, she notices the woman there is not one she recognizes. Her large, ample chest is framed nicely with her black clingy top. Her leather pants further highlight this woman’s perfect curves. Her equally as curvy hair dangles in ringlets around her neck, tickling her bare shoulders. God, this woman was hot. She leans forward, smiling.

“What can I get you, gorgeous?” Her accent is heavy—of course, Antillan. They’re all perfect.

“You have any of that rose wine?” Cordelia leans forward. “I’m interested in a taste.”

“Oh? That’s a delicacy I believe we have. Pardon me, I’m new.” Her sea blue eyes settle on Cordelia’s. They’re a brilliant shade. The woman’s smile shines as she picks up the glass bottle. “I didn’t think we had that blend here—it’s quite—well—”

“Strong? Yeah, that’s the point.” Cordelia sighs. “It’s been a day.”

“Allow me to make it better then. Her dark rouge tinted lips smirk. She grabs the bottle, pouring it into a small glass. “We’ll start you off light, then we’ll see where the night goes.”

“It’ll be better if I can’t remember it.” She mutters to herself.

“It won’t be if someone takes advantage of that pretty face of yours. That mask of yours doesn't hide much."

“I have a date with me. He’ll make sure I’m fine.”

“He?” her smirk turns into a frown. “If I weren’t on shift, I’d take you somewhere nice.”

Cordelia flushes. She didn’t even know the woman’s name, but she’d have gladly taken her offer.

She takes a couple of sips, allowing the soft beats she hears to calm her senses. How was it that a simple place like this could suck her concerns straight from her bones.

“Enjoy, sweetie.” The woman grins, soon sauntering to her next customer. Cordelia picks up the glass and heads to a couch by the window. Thankfully, that spot was empty.

Radjerd soon joins her, examining the lighting, and the atmosphere. People were snuggling, kissing, and others were dragged to private rooms. <You brought me to a sex club?>

<It’s not just a sex club. It’s a place where people like me can feel—well—a bit normal. It might seem glamorous to be a Firthe in the public eye, but from all the scrutiny I get, why shouldn’t I be allowed to have some peace.>

<Ah, so that stuff gets to you then.>

<Well, of course it would. I can’t pretend that it doesn’t.>

<It makes sense, no need to justify it.> He leans his arm over her shoulder. <Although can we go somewhere else? I’m not comfortable with these people all over each other.>

<That’s fine. I was given a key upon entry.> Cordelia jumps a bit when she feels his hand around her waist. She shoots him a look. He backs off, apologizing for his discrepancy.

Cordelia opens the door, a warm coloured bed, two chairs and a box of chocolates, next to an opaque glass jar. The room is small but works considering what the original purpose is for. But, Cordelia usually kept her own company in here. It was a nice place to escape to when the manor became overbearing.

<I don’t know if it’s the music, but…I’m sorry if I scared you, Cordelia.> He takes off his mask and puts it on the bedside table. She does the same.

<Yeah, it was quite something to seem my own father being held at gunpoint.> She grits her teeth, but soon smiles. <You’re forgiven...but I still want to know what Calista said to my mother.>

<I have no idea, they spoke in Weltish. She broke me out of Willa Corp and said Aleck could help me. That was the extent of it. I was so happy to burst out of there that I had no space in my head for questions. Being arrested does things to your head, you know.>

<Arrested? I don’t think Willa Corp did that.>

<No, I mean in jail.>

<Right, you said before…>

<Yeah. Six years ago, it was awful. The clothes they give you have been worn by at least three thousand other people, and they never fit right.>

<How long were you in for?>

<Two years. They pack you in with other criminals of your crime class, and a lot of them aren’t very kind to converse with. I had a lot of time to myself. Really makes a man rethink his choices.>

<Which is why you broke into my house?> Cordelia covers her mouth. <Sorry, it just slipped out.>

<It’s alright. May I?> Cordelia offers him her glass as he takes a sip. <Not bad, not bad.>

<It’s one of the best wines here, if I were to wager.> Cordelia chuckles.

<Speaking of a wager.> He purrs, <I’d love to continue ours.>

<It’s off. My dad’s cut me off from Willa Corp.>

<No down payment?>

<Nope.> She looks at him, her fingers eager to feel his skin. She knew very well it wasn’t the wine, either.

<May I taste you again, Cordelia?> He grins, his eyes almost sparkle. How was that possible? But, Cordelia doesn't see why not. She gasps when he leans her on her back, as he captures her mouth, his hands gliding over her body. He hikes the dress over her hips as he breaks away from her, his head moving down towards her midsection. He lifts her leg over his shoulder, his nose gliding against her thigh. She twitches when his mouth rests between her thighs, right on the cusp of her black lace panties. She flushes when she feels the heat of his breath against her. His lips kiss her there, his teeth pulling at the fabric.

<Not so hard, you’ll tear them.> She scolds breathlessly.

He loops his finger around the band, exhilaration fills her as the fabric trails down her leg. She shivers, as he takes no time, purring against her. Her toes curl as she bites her lip.

His tongue makes light movements against her as she grabs the bedsheets—the way he hums deep within her—delicious. Every inch of her skin tingled with glee when his tongue played with her. A building mound of delight forms in her gut. That man knew exactly what he was doing, and god, was it satisfying. She’s had good lovers, but this? It’s like he doesn’t have to try! She wants to slap him, he teases her with the tip of his tongue. He’s delaying her release on purpose!

<Idiot, just get it over with.> She cusses in frustration.

<Patience, my Cordelia.> He hums, as he’s clearly enjoying her frustration. She ought to crush his head with her thighs. <You taste divine.>

<Shut up.> She stammers, breathless. <Just because you know how to perform doesn’t mean you can get away with saying that stuff.>

<I think it does.> Radjerd replies cheekily. Her body tenses, anticipating what could be next. With one gentle flick, he sends Cordelia over the edge. He holds her in place as he welcomes each convulsion with his mouth, her breaths staggard.

<If Calista hadn’t interrupted, I’d have taken you on that bed.>

God, why did his rough tone excite her? <Doubtful.> She teases. <Hard to prove when you can’t go back in time—or are you claiming you can do that too?> He pulls his shirt off of him—his firm chest almost glistened off the dim light of the room.

He ignores her as he pulls down his jeans, eying her intensely. He was waiting for permission. Should she? After the conversation her father and she had—would she just be proving her parents right if she allowed this? Wouldn't she be the whore they thought she was? Wasn't she already?

<Cordelia?>

<I-I’m sorry. I don’t want to go any further.> She leans up, expecting Radjerd to storm out. She wants him to—as tears form in her eyes. <I didn’t mean to lead you on.>

He says nothing, instead, sitting beside her. <Hey, it’s more than I thought I’d get.>

She bites her lip, her head becoming fuzzy from the drink she ordered. No, if she cries right now—she’ll look like an idiot. Don’t ask what’s wrong. Don’t ask what’s wrong!

<You alright?>

Cordelia turns away, tears line her cheeks. Her makeup, ruined.

He pulls her to his chest, securing her with both arms. Oddly enough, it calms her. His warm skin soothes her shame, his heartbeat relaxes her. <If you’re not into it, I won’t force you. Some girls cry after—>

<I am not a crier!> She growls. <It’s been…a bad day, alright?>

<I disagree.> He smiles, licking his lips. The action brought her back to minutes before. <I got to taste a Firthe for the very first time.>

<You’re gross.> She mumbles. He doesn’t speak as he leans her on the bed. Radjerd’s content with snuggling her? If she were in his shoes, she’s not sure she would have taken kindly to his sudden refusal.

But one thing was certain.

Her respect for him grew tenfold.

Cordelia shifts in place, her arm brushing beside warm skin. Her eyes jolt open as she jerks back, but no, it’s Radjerd. Had he stayed here with her the whole night? His relaxed face was rather charming, as a sliver of sunlight illuminated his face. She would’ve liked to stare at him longer, but the shrilling ringing noise of a cell-phone propelled her out of bed. She scrambles through her bag, it’s the secured line…Phoebe?!

She flips the phone open to hear a panicked voice.

“Cordelia, it’s me. Your father isn’t picking up, which leads me to believe Calista got to him.”

“Wait, what do you mean by got to him? Is he in danger?” Cordelia’s pulse quickens.

“God, I was right. Crap…what did she tell you?”

“We hardly spoke, although she was quite insistent in talking to my father. Why?”

“Is Radjerd with you?”

She looks behind her, then replies, “No. He’s somewhere in the manor.”

“Dammit, it’s like I thought. Well, since you’re the only one who’s answering their phone, I want to give you a heads up. “I found Fitz.”

Fitz? Oh god…

“How about we meet in an hour and a half? I need to get ready, find our resident escapees, you know."

“That’s perfect. Thanks, Cordelia.” Cordelia hangs up as Radjerd bats the phone out of her hand. He’s rather handsy, but Cordelia doesn’t care. Anyone who was so thorough with her was allowed to be.

<You have so much hair.> He plays with it, stroking it between his fingers. <It’s so light—I can hardly believe it’s real.>

<I’ll refuse to believe you’ve never seen a blonde woman.> She rolls her eyes.

<They aren’t so common where I’m from.> He laughs deeply, pulling her close for a kiss. The vibration of his voice tickles in her ear. She doesn't want this moment to end, but it's for his own good. Radjerd will want to hear this.

<We have to get to the manor.> She sits up. <They found Fitz.>

Radjerd’s face drops.