Kink Club owner, Zachary Coles would openly tell you commitment and monogamy are for fools and hedonism was the only game he subscribed too.
That was until he agreed to help out his long-time friend, Max Jenson and offer his son, Ellis a summer job...
A/N: I know I said it was the epilogue, but my characters had other ideas as usual... sigh. So here's another chapter!
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~ ~ Zack ~ ~
One month later.
With my phone pressed to my ear, I twisted the door handle and pushed the door open.
Why the hell wasn't she answering?
I was trying to reach Ivy but so far she wasn't picking up or she was avoiding my calls.
Stepping inside my office I inhaled the familiar scent welcoming me like an old vintage scotch.
I dropped my phone on the desk shrugged off my jacket and draped it over the back of my chair, then unbuttoned my cuffs, rolling up my sleeves. It felt weird being back in London, but it was also grounding, a reminder of who I was before everything changed.
Before them.
I settled into my chair and reached for the bottle of Macallan single malt in the cabinet behind me. I poured myself a generous amount, lifting the glass to my lips just as the door handle was turned.
"James," I said, lowering the glass as I saw him standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of surprise and something else I couldn't quite place. "I thought you would be downstairs already. I was just trying to reach Ivy."
Tonight Risk was having its first lock-in by invite only.
"She's doing final checks," James replied, blinking away his surprise. "I wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow."
"Plans changed," I said, leaning back in my chair. "We got back early."
"We?" he queried with a frown creasing his forehead.
I didn't answer. James nor anyone else here was aware of my relationship with Ellis and Sasha, and I intended to keep it that way. It was no one's business but ours. I gestured to the bottle. "Drink?"
I poured another for myself.
"No, thanks, I'll be heading downstairs soon," James said, stepping further into the room. He placed a thick folder on my desk—more reports, I assumed. I'd kept in touch with him every few days via email and Zoom, so I wasn't expecting any surprises.
With my drink, I got up walked over to the large leather sofa and sat down. "Anything I need to worry about?" I motioned to the folder on my desk.
"No, nothing urgent," James said, but there was something in the way he squared his shoulders like he was bracing himself. I also took in his complexion which looked paler than usual and beneath his eyes were dark purple smudges and his hair was a disarray of dark tufts.
He looked exhausted and dare I think it, unhinged.
His tone didn't escape me either—something was off. I put my glass down and just stared at him, waiting. The silence stretched and I watched him fidget.
