Hired for secrets

Do you want this?

So this is it? A place designed for a new breed of women. One that objectifies men, takes their pleasures and leaves. One that behaves like men had done for centuries.

Sofie stepped through the wooden double-doors into the secretive Club Elandra. It was like entering an enchanted world. Vertical gardens lined the entrance and pan flutes played on hidden speakers beneath the extravagant foliage. Even the smells were different. An artisan scent flowed through the dimly lit hallways, like midsummer rain over a rose garden. Exquisite and rare. Spending the night here was indecently expensive. Yet everything about this place whispered 'you'll be back for more'.

Looking around, Sofie understood why hundreds of women were on the waiting list, pining for their chance to experience the club's allure first hand. And these were not ordinary women. They were fabulously rich and influential. Each able to afford anything, perhaps anyone, yet they chose to satisfy their desires with the high-class Companions from Club Elandra.

Sofie wasn't a member. She would never be. As an investigative journalist, she could only dream of the luxury the club was famous for. Instead, she was here as the guest of Mrs. Gartner; one of the lucky few to hold a membership in this elite erotic society.

"Mrs. Gartner, how wonderful to see you this evening. I'll let your Companion know you're here," the receptionist chanted while reaching for the phone.

She sat behind an opulent mahogany desk like a gatekeeper to the realm of deep desires and dark fantasies.

Mrs. Gartner only acknowledged her with a brief nod before throwing a sour glance at Sofie. She resented her being here and had no problem showing it.

"Now what?" she hissed.

Startled by the hostile tone, the receptionist looked up. Her expression froze when she followed Mrs. Gartner's glare.

"Oh, you brought a guest. How... unusual. Does your Companion know?"

"No, he doesn't."

Mrs. Gartner's voice sounded clipped. She wasn't up for a conversation, not without Sofie's answer first.

"You know what to do."

"Fine." Mrs. Gardner exhaled and turned to the receptionist. "I have to... cancel... my subscription."

She forced out the words and paused in between to summon conviction. Weakly, she leaned against the counter, pressing two fingers to her mouth. She was fighting back nausea. Her screaming-orange lipstick left an ugly smear on her hand and she wiped it carelessly on her oversized fur coat, like a spoiled child destroying her Sunday best.

Usually, Mrs Gardner's status and wealth enabled her to walk through life with the assertiveness of a drill sergeant; not listening or taking orders from anyone, neither about fashion nor life choices. But tonight she wasn't in control and she hated every second. No one could blame her. She was losing a very prized possession: the ticket to her satisfaction and an invaluable status symbol in her circles.

With another pained sigh, she continued, "I need to transfer my remaining visits to this... young lady."

Sofie suppressed a smile. 'Young lady' is it? Seeing one of society's most unscrupulous harpies rake her brain for how to address her was hilarious. Why not 'Blackmailer'? Too embarrassing?

It doesn't matter. What mattered was that her plan worked. Over the last weeks, she'd shadowed Mrs. Gartner to collect evidence of her infidelity. Evidence that her husband would not take kindly to. He would have no qualms about divorcing his gold-digging wife, and their prenup would put an end to her lavish lifestyle.