Run to Him: The Full Novel: A Domination/Submission Alpha Male Billionaire Suspenseful Romance (The Billionaire's Beck and Call Book 4) Read Online Free
abandoned buildings. We passed a set of train tracks right before the club, and for a moment, seeing the massive gate looming in the distance, felt like I was a damned soul passing over the River Styx.
The gates had to be ten feet fall and wrought out of elaborately scrolled black iron topped with deadly-looking spikes. They were beautiful in a terrifying sort of way, I thought, but damned if I didn’t want to run from both them, and the intimidating stares of the guards. The address of the establishment was part of the gates, spelled out in gilded letters, framed by the iron.
98 Cross Rd.
“Um… Hi. Uh, I was invited to come here tonight… by, uh…”
“Name?”
“L-Lucy Willcox,” I said, my voice unusually high all of a sudden.
The man on the right turned and muttered into the microphone tucked into his sleeve, just like he was in the secret service or something. I shifted on my platform heels, feeling very small despite the extra 5” they gave me. I didn’t even reach the guard’s shoulders.
He nodded at me, and the gates creaked open of their own accord behind him.
“Enjoy your evening, Miss Willcox,” the guard said, his face as impassive as stone.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
I jogged through the gate, straightening my hem, wanting to escape that icy stare as quickly as possible. If that was the welcoming party, what will the host be like? And what the hell was this place, anyway?
A wide cobbled walk way led through a short alley, behind which a dark building rose, looking for all the world like the crumbling façade of an ancient hotel. A cobblestone courtyard opened up before her leading to the wide stone steps, beneath a columned archway. There was no sign here—no indication of what this place was at all, here at the edge of town.
Where no one can hear you scream.
My throat tightened as I climbed the steps and reached for the elaborately carved brass knob on the door. It didn’t budge. I rattled it once, wondering if it was stuck, then swore under my breath.
A voice echoed through the courtyard, making me jump like a cat in a room full of rockers.
“Name?”
“Lucy,” I yelled, looking around me for the speaker. “Willcox. I’m expected…?”
My eyes locked on several gargoyles peering down from the corners of the building, but I couldn’t find where the sound was coming from. It was downright eerie.
A sharp click made me jump again , and I smacked my palm to my forehead. I needed to get my shit together, like, yesterday. I had to be confident when I faced this mysterious admirer of mine, especially if I wanted to get the job he all but offered me. The thought of seeing him again… especially after the way he last saw me—shock and horror dawning on my face as I looked from him, still inside me, to my lover—made my mouth go suddenly dry.
Things were definitely about to get weird.
I swallowed hard and reached for the knob again. It opened smoothly beneath my touch, and I heaved open the heavy wooden door.
The heavy thump of bass hit my ears from deep within the building as I stepped into a dark entryway, lined heavily in deep crimson cloth and thick carpet. A black sign with gold letters spelled out Club Asmodai .
What the hell is an Asmodai?
A woman with short slicked-back hair appeared from the shadows, wearing a too-short maid’s uniform and cherry-red lipstick. Her thick velvet choker, almost like a collar, caught my eye, and I shivered.
What was this place?
“May I take your bag, Miss Willcox?” she said, smiling shyly.
There was something about her big, dark eyes that made me pause before handing her my bag.
“Yes. Thank you.”
She was clearly in a servant’s role here, but her eyes held a light of mischief in them, a glimmer of joy, even, as she took my purse, her fingers brushing over mine in a way that sent a shiver up my spine. She leaned in, too close, and whispered in my ear.
“Come this way.”
I felt her breath tickling my neck, and smelled
The gates had to be ten feet fall and wrought out of elaborately scrolled black iron topped with deadly-looking spikes. They were beautiful in a terrifying sort of way, I thought, but damned if I didn’t want to run from both them, and the intimidating stares of the guards. The address of the establishment was part of the gates, spelled out in gilded letters, framed by the iron.
98 Cross Rd.
“Um… Hi. Uh, I was invited to come here tonight… by, uh…”
“Name?”
“L-Lucy Willcox,” I said, my voice unusually high all of a sudden.
The man on the right turned and muttered into the microphone tucked into his sleeve, just like he was in the secret service or something. I shifted on my platform heels, feeling very small despite the extra 5” they gave me. I didn’t even reach the guard’s shoulders.
He nodded at me, and the gates creaked open of their own accord behind him.
“Enjoy your evening, Miss Willcox,” the guard said, his face as impassive as stone.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
I jogged through the gate, straightening my hem, wanting to escape that icy stare as quickly as possible. If that was the welcoming party, what will the host be like? And what the hell was this place, anyway?
A wide cobbled walk way led through a short alley, behind which a dark building rose, looking for all the world like the crumbling façade of an ancient hotel. A cobblestone courtyard opened up before her leading to the wide stone steps, beneath a columned archway. There was no sign here—no indication of what this place was at all, here at the edge of town.
Where no one can hear you scream.
My throat tightened as I climbed the steps and reached for the elaborately carved brass knob on the door. It didn’t budge. I rattled it once, wondering if it was stuck, then swore under my breath.
A voice echoed through the courtyard, making me jump like a cat in a room full of rockers.
“Name?”
“Lucy,” I yelled, looking around me for the speaker. “Willcox. I’m expected…?”
My eyes locked on several gargoyles peering down from the corners of the building, but I couldn’t find where the sound was coming from. It was downright eerie.
A sharp click made me jump again , and I smacked my palm to my forehead. I needed to get my shit together, like, yesterday. I had to be confident when I faced this mysterious admirer of mine, especially if I wanted to get the job he all but offered me. The thought of seeing him again… especially after the way he last saw me—shock and horror dawning on my face as I looked from him, still inside me, to my lover—made my mouth go suddenly dry.
Things were definitely about to get weird.
I swallowed hard and reached for the knob again. It opened smoothly beneath my touch, and I heaved open the heavy wooden door.
The heavy thump of bass hit my ears from deep within the building as I stepped into a dark entryway, lined heavily in deep crimson cloth and thick carpet. A black sign with gold letters spelled out Club Asmodai .
What the hell is an Asmodai?
A woman with short slicked-back hair appeared from the shadows, wearing a too-short maid’s uniform and cherry-red lipstick. Her thick velvet choker, almost like a collar, caught my eye, and I shivered.
What was this place?
“May I take your bag, Miss Willcox?” she said, smiling shyly.
There was something about her big, dark eyes that made me pause before handing her my bag.
“Yes. Thank you.”
She was clearly in a servant’s role here, but her eyes held a light of mischief in them, a glimmer of joy, even, as she took my purse, her fingers brushing over mine in a way that sent a shiver up my spine. She leaned in, too close, and whispered in my ear.
“Come this way.”
I felt her breath tickling my neck, and smelled
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