We’re exclusive. I wonder how much she’s itching to dominate someone. We haven’t had that fun at the BDSM Château in weeks, and women aren’t her preference anyway.

“Mr. Mathers,” my assistant Valerie says late in the morning. “Your father is here to take the tour. He’s brought… his friend.”

I can tell by the look on her face that this “friend” is one of my least favorite people.

Sure enough, Dad has brought his new squeeze Stephanie May. A woman almost forty years his junior. If that wasn’t shady enough, she’s technically my ex-lover. Even had sex with her one time at The Dark Hour. The night I realized how hot I have it for Katie.

She’s a bit bitter about being called Kathryn during my climax, Stephanie May is.

The two of them stroll through the front doors as if they’re honored guests and not the owner come to survey his kingdom with some arm candy. My father looks dapper, as usual, but Stephanie is sporting some new fancy threads that came straight from The Crimson Dove, the most upscale boutique in the city. No way could Stephanie afford those clothes outright. Of course, she’s been dating my dad a few weeks now, and I don’t doubt that he’s buying her these dresses. Like the orange and yellow ensemble she has on now, highlighting her strawberry blond hair and the angle of her nose.

“Ian,” she greets with a purr, her arm wrapped solidly around my father’s arm. Hilariously enough, she’s almost taller than him. “You’re looking well today.”

Ah, by the way, she still flirts with me. And has made it very, very clear that she’s still interested in more sex.

You know, after she tried blackmailing me.

“You look radiant as always, Stephanie.” I smile politely, for the sake of my father, who is so in love with my ex that I’ve almost stopped talking to him outside of work.

The tour is mostly for my father’s sake, who only stops by about once a week to check the progress of the renovations. Nevertheless, I accompany them, winding through ball rooms, kitchens, staff rooms, and of course the bedrooms and suites on the upper floors. Back in its day, The Grand was one of the biggest hotels around, boasting over one-hundred rooms. Now it’s swamped by the high-rise hotels around, some of which my family owns.

There’s nothing wrong with one-hundred rooms, suites included. We’re setting out to recreate a luxury hotel, and the best only have limited board available. A lot easier for a manager or two to keep track of everyone’s experience that way.

We don’t go through every room, however. That would be ridiculous. Partially because every time we see a model room complete with bed and other furniture, Stephanie leans in and whispers something flirty into my father’s ear. Gag. Gag. I try to ignore it, but their laughter and shushing is about to drive me out the third-story window.

“You should come have lunch with us, son,” my father says at the end of the tour. He’s in a good mood because he only found two minor things to criticize, and they’ll be fixed by tomorrow morning. Otherwise, everything is coming along without a hitch. “I know you don’t….”

“Oh, Dominic, did you forget?” Stephanie pats his chest. “I have an appointment in an hour. I’m afraid I have to skip out on lunch.”

“Appointment? I don’t remember this.”

“It’s for work, dearest. Let’s rain check for dinner. I should be available around five.”

Works for me. To the sounds of the foreman barking orders at his workers, I text Kathryn that we should meet for lunch if she’s in the neighborhood.

“Can’t. I have a meeting in an hour.”

Because I’m a fucking idiot, I think nothing of it.

Chapter 2

KATHRYN

I haven’t been home two minutes before there’s a knock at my door.

I know who it is.

I don’t want to answer.

Except I have to, because the last thing I need is one of my neighbors seeing Stephanie May out in my hallway, lollygagging about as if she’s the queen of the world.

“Aw, what a precious little fluffer-nut!” She kneels in her orange stiletto heels, running her hand over my traitorous kitten Sinéad. I say traitorous because this cat will take affection from anyone, including Stephanie May, the asshole blackmailing me.

She’s here to get her monthly check. A cool $50,000.

That’s right. I’m paying this A-Lister Hollywood starlet $600,000 a year to keep quiet about not only my relationship to Ian, but the fact that I’m now submitting to him on a regular basis. That I like submitting to him. In the realm of the world, nobody would give a fuck that I’m with Ian like that. But I’m a Domme. A Domme with business connections to other Dommes. We can be… sensitive. It’s not unusual for Dommes to start switching or become a permanent switch, but such a debut must be done in a tasteful manner, otherwise people get the impression that all Dommes are only waiting for the right cock to dominate them.

Ahaha. No.

Also, I don’t want to hear about how I’m a billionaire and thus can afford paying Stephanie May off. One, it’s the principle of the thing. I should not have to do this, although for now I’m going with the cards I’m dealt. Second, do you know how hard it is to drop fifty-grand once a month without being questioned why? My accountant is already asking questions. I told him I was investing in something, which worked the first month, but now he’s seeing how fucking shady I’m acting and the questions are peppering my phone. I’m fucked.

Right now I can’t think about that. I can only think about protecting my image and future business prospects with people in the kink scene.

I shoo my cat into the other room and close the door behind her. I don’t want Stephanie lurking around here. She has this sinister perfume that makes me want to throw up. It smells like vinegar and that stuff they put in odorless gas to warn you that you’re about to die.

“Here.” I hand her a check. Yeah, I’m working old school like that. I figure, hey, maybe she’ll lose the check and that will be on her. Not that she has yet. “Now be on your way.”

She takes the check and looks at it through big eyes that say nothing about her intelligence. Oh, but she’s shrewd. She was shrewd enough to show up here when I was sharing an intimate night with Ian. She’s got pictures of me done up like a sub. A fucked sub.

I can’t risk it.

And don’t tell Ian! He doesn’t know. I know. It’s bad news, but it is what it is.

“I’m sorry things have to be like this, Kathryn. You seem like a nice lady. I saw all that good work you did for those communities.”

I cross my arms and give her a sour look. What is her game? I don’t believe for a second that she’s actually complimenting me.

“Why haven’t you left yet?”

She cocks her head at me. Fuck, she’s a good actress. You know, I actually liked some of her movies before this whole debacle began. It was one thing when she was caught up between Ian and me. No hard feelings. Then she pulled this shit. Now it’s all hard feelings.

“I like to think in another life we could have been friends.” Stephanie shrugs, check dangling from her hand.

I narrow my eyes. “We would have never been friends.” What is this, high school? I know Stephanie is barely in her twenties and I’m not that much older, but she’s so fucking immature. “For one thing, I try not to be ‘friends’ with people who pull this petty shit.”

“Petty? You think I’m petty?’ That chuckle could choke cats. “Is it petty to be pissed at a guy who leads you on with sweet promises and then pulls the embarrassing shit he does?”

Wow, she really doesn’t know Ian. That was basically how we met.