Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Alissa Maravilla thought she was ready for Maddox Hathaway's world—the intensity, the heat, the exquisite chaos. Their passion is electric and undeniable, but so are the secrets they've uncovered beneath the surface of Aces Underground.
The club that awakened her deepest desires is hiding something far more sinister than velvet ropes and whispered fantasies. And Alissa can't look away. Not when people are begging for help.
Not when the dead are piling up—and she may be next.
Not when the truth is bleeding through the cracks.
The two lovers vow to stop the madness.
But Maddox has secrets of his own, memories buried deep inside his subconscious that he's tried hard to forget.
Because some doors should never be opened.
And some rabbit holes lead straight to hell
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
MADDOX
Where the fuck am I?
First I have to check in with this creepy-ass guy in purple pinstripes at the front door, and then I have to go down this staircase lined with mirrors, and now this.
Four sections, one each for spades, diamonds, clubs, and hearts. Jazz music coming from the Hearts section, a cloud of tobacco and marijuana smoke hovering over the Clubs, the clinking of poker chips echoing through the Diamonds, and people gathering around the bar in Spades.
I was freaked out going down that staircase. I thought for sure I was about to fall victim to some elaborate prank to embarrass the son of Henry Hathaway. I had absolutely nothing to do with the stunts my old man pulled in the last year of his mayorship, but I still get sneers from people on the streets. I thought they might go easier on me after he died, but if anything, the news of his demise brought all the emotions from his term back to the surface, and the treatment got worse. I actually had to board up the windows of the haberdashery to keep people from throwing bricks through them.
For several weeks, I questioned my father’s decision to leave me his membership at this club. I’m still at a complete loss as to why he left me this and the Rolls-Royce, but not a penny of his millions.
Well, I guess there are several pennies in that damned trust, but I’m never seeing a single cent from there. I’m not abandoning the haberdashery for anything. It’s the only thing that is completely mine.
I didn’t even abandon it when Laurie threatened to break up with me. I loved her, thought she was end-game material, but she turned out to be like every other girlfriend I’ve had. Just in it for the potential of power and prestige.
So, after several weeks of jacking off on my couch, I decided I’d rather find a good piece of ass to ease the blue balls Laurie left in her wake.
I could have gone to one of my regular haunts, but I decided to finally check this place out. Aces Underground, where my dad went when he was “at the club.”
I wasn’t anticipating this. The colored lights, the unlabeled liquor bottles, the tattooed waitstaff wearing next to nothing. This doesn’t match my dad’s vibe at all.
But I kind of like it.
I spent the first year working at the haberdashery trying to cultivate a particular aesthetic. I went up and down the streets of Chicago, checking inside every antique store, haggling with the owners for a good price on certain items. I got that old gramophone for a steal, same for the awesome set of wingback chairs and the vintage register. Most of the time, the people running the shops were just happy to make a sale at all.
But all the work I did on the shop pales in comparison to what the owners have done with this place. The theming is next level.
There’s a small empty table by the bar, so I take a seat. Almost immediately, a young lady with porcelain skin and dark-brown hair approaches me. I instinctively look right at her tits, which are spectacular. I then notice that the pattern on her bikini top is tiny white spades over a black background. She has a tattoo of a spade on her left shoulder, and the number three on her right.
She closes her eyes and bows her head.
I blink. “Are you here to take my order?”
She nods.
I cock my head, confused. “Cat got your tongue?”
She wrinkles her forehead.
“You can talk to me, you know.”
She widens her eyes and then shakes her head.
“You can’t speak?”
She presses her lips together and gazes around.
“You can speak, but you won’t?”
“Correct, Mr. Hathaway.”
I turn around to the cool female voice behind me and widen my eyes. A gorgeous woman, late thirties, wearing an outfit that makes the waitstaff’s look normal. Big poofy collar, and a crimson ballgown that looks like something straight out of Bridgerton. Her hair is bright red and styled in an elegant—if not slightly stuffy—updo, and she is bedecked from head to toe in rubies. She extends a hand to me, and the gem-studded bracelet around her wrist tinkles.
“Rouge Montrose. I’m the owner of Aces Underground.” She looks me over. “We’ve been expecting you for a few weeks now, Mr. Hathaway. We were beginning to think you weren’t going to show up.”
I swallow. “Well, my father left me his membership here. I wasn’t even aware that was something someone could do.”
She crinkles her eyes. “My grandfather insisted on that policy when he started the club. It was during Prohibition, you know, and people would disappear from time to time. We decided that members could bequeath their membership to their next of kin in the event that they died of something other than old age.” She lays a hand on my shoulder. “My condolences on the loss of your father, by the way.”