Tarnished Crown (Gravestone Elite #2) by Caitlyn Dare (top inspirational books TXT) 📗

the ornate double doors that lead to the room where my initiation began. Instead, we continue forward, past the door we walked through for the meeting with Q and farther down into the darkness before a door opens for us by another security guard to reveal a set of stairs.

The small, enclosed space is lit with only candlelight, giving it that eerie look that Q seems to be obsessed with. Cade once again nods at the man who opened the door for us and we descend, going deeper into the darkness.

"Well, this isn't creepy at all," Alex whispers to me a second before the sound of men talking and low music hits our ears.

As we turn the corner and the room reveals itself, I can't hold in my gasp of surprise.

Laid out before us is a state-of-the-art casino, complete with every kind of game imaginable. But it's not the tables or the wealthy men sitting around them in their finest suits sipping vintage whiskey that catch my attention… because that would be the women.

I didn't need to ask to know tonight was going to be a male only event. I guess I should have guessed there would be a reason, because the women walking around are only here to serve one purpose.

With every woman I spot around the room, their outfits get smaller as they walk around with trays in their hands, delivering drinks to the men who shamelessly eat up every inch of them.

"Whoa," Alex mutters, clearly as taken aback as me by what we've walked into.

"Trust me when I say it only gets better," Ashton says with a hint of excitement. "You think these women are good? Look up."

Reluctantly, I follow orders and tip my head back to find a series of suspended ornate cages hanging from the ceiling, each containing women who are dancing to entertain the men below. There are also podiums with long poles, barely-dressed women twisting and twirling their slender bodies around them.

It's every man's fantasy, and I'm hardly surprised by any of it, seeing as Quinctus and the Electi seem to be full of depraved and twisted men.

"Right then, boys. Let's get this motherfucking party started."

Cade, Ashton, Tim and Brandon head off into the room. Cade is immediately called over by an older, important looking man at the blackjack table, and I watch as he shakes the man’s hand as if they’re in a business meeting.

"It's something, right?" Channing says, hanging back with Alex and me.

"It really, really is."

We stand there watching as thousands of dollars get won and lost on the tables and even more get poured into fine crystal glasses.

"Why do I get the idea that Ashton's warning is only the tip of the iceberg?”

"You’re a quick learner." Channing laughs, but it sounds strained. "This place is a playground for the rich and powerful. Anything you want tonight, you can have. Literally anything. Every drink you could possibly imagine is behind the bar, and every drug you could desire is somewhere in this room. Any girl you want is yours. There are side rooms set up ready—or, as you'll soon learn, you can just make the most of the voyeurism.”

Alex stands beside me with his mouth hanging open. "So Cade's little sex fests back at the house…"

"Are nothing compared to this," Channing finishes.

“Is that the commissioner?” Alex asks, nodding toward another group of men.

“Sure is. Anyone of importance in this town is right under this roof, ready to act out their wildest fantasies.”

"Fucking hell," I say, scrubbing my hand down my face.

"You might want to plaster a smile on your face or find something to take your mind off whatever it’s filled with right now, because you're here to enjoy yourself."

"And if I don't want to?" I ask, because this… it isn’t me, and I want no part in it.

"Tough. Consider this… a rite of passage."

"As if we've not already been through enough.”

“Holy shit,” Alex murmurs, his attention on the other side of the room. “Is that District Attorney Hal Bailey?”

“Yeah, Fawn’s father.” Channing grimaces at the sight of him with his hand up one of the server’s skirts as she flirts with the table of men. "Being an Electi is just a gift that keeps on giving," he deadpans.

"Here." Channing hands us both a stack of chips. "You want more, you need to reach into your pockets. Where are you starting your night, boys?" He winks before slipping into the room and heading for the poker table.

"We're here now," Alex says, “may as well embrace it." He shrugs and takes off, leaving me little choice but to follow unless I want to stand here looking like an outsider for the rest of the night.

Alex sets himself up on the roulette table and places a few of his chips down, which, predictably, he swiftly loses.

"Here," I say, handing mine over.

"Don't you want to play?" he asks, his brows knitting together.

"It's fine. Go on."

"Cheers. My luck has to change sooner or later, right?"

I smile at him, wondering if we're destined for perpetual bad luck now we're a part of all this.

"Here," Ashton says, suddenly appearing between us. "Something to take the edge off."

"Thanks, man," Alex says, taking the small square of paper from his hands without a second thought and popping it onto his tongue.

I stare at him in disbelief. After what they did to us down in that vault, how can he take that quite so easily without even questioning what it is?

"Don't be a pussy, Easton. It's not DOM." Ashton smirks.

"I don't give a fuck. I'm not taking anything from you."

"Fine. But I can promise you that you'll enjoy tonight with or without it."

I don't want to enjoy the fucking night, but I keep that thought to myself.

Exactly as Channing warned, as the night goes on and the drink and drugs flow freely, things only begin to get wilder.

The dancers shed their already nonexistent outfits and the men seem to forget that they've got wives and families at