The Monster's Nemesis | ✔️

Chapter 4

D O M I N I C

As I made my way into Club Sapphire, the dim lighting and leather-clad decor welcomed me. The unsurpassable refinement of the interior decoration that almost resembles a gentlemen's club-instead of a strip club- was dotted with dark polished wood and Chesterfield sofa. No wonder this was one of my favorites out of all the clubs my family owned.

Oh! And the women were exquisite, too.

"Sir..." The manager, Eric, came up out of nowhere and looked at me like I was some ghost. "Mr. Romano...we-"

I cut him off. "Send a message to Viktor. I will be in my room. And yes, send a bottle of Macallan."

"Yes, Sir," came the automatic reply.

As I waited for the elevator to open, he, once again, rushed by my side. "Sir, may I get a doctor for you?"

Stepping inside, I replied, "A bottle of Macallan do would just fine." He did open his mouth to say something, but I was thankful when the door shut close.

Finally, a flitting moment of privacy prevailed as I inhaled through my nose and closed my eyes for a couple of seconds. It felt like I had been holding my breath for five fucking torturous days. My brain was a jumbled mess, my body was aching like hell, and God knows how many homicides I was already plotting in my mind.

The ding of the elevator pulled me back to reality, and I stepped out on the third floor, sauntering towards the room. Room 21 was built according to my tastes and preferences as I frequented the place.

The white, gold, and beige accented room, with a polished desk and a luxurious chaise was the kind of taste I picked up from my mother. The woman was obsessed with the decor. At times, it made my father question whether she loved her customized furnishings more than her husband. But my father, Alessandro Romano, being a man of unlimited means, indulged his wife with lavish mansions and apartments.

As I slumped down on the chair behind the desk and tried to recall every clusterfuck situation - one after the other, only one face floated above all.

Auburn hair, brown eyes, scowling face...fuck...

Lilliana.

Who was this goddamn woman?

"Come in!" I hollered at the door.

And in walked a blond in a red dress, short and tight enough for my liking, spiky stilettos and hair bunched in a neat ponytail with a tray in her hand. The amber-hued bottle and glass were forgotten for a moment as I cocked my head and swept my gaze up and down her stature.

She wasn't one of the servers at Sapphire, I knew for sure.

The manager, Eric, definitely knew how to entertain.

And this was the exact distraction I wanted.

Completely aware of my eyes on her perky breasts, she walked around the table, stopping inches away from me and leaned down to place the tray in front of me.

"Can I serve you, Sir?" The insinuation in her voice made me smirk.

"Do you know how to serve, sweetheart?"

She adjusted the fabric of her dress a little before answering, "Try me, Sir."

I slowly rose from the chair and closed the distance between us. Taking her chin and stroking her lower lip, I whispered, "Let's see, then."

The tray on the table was shoved aside to make some space for us. "Bend over."

Her gaze flitted between my slightly bulged crotch and the table. "I thought...oh..."