Chapter 05

Gabriel Dantas

I'm sitting at one of the tables in the quietest corner of the club, swirling the straw in the glass of a strawberry drink. The soft light of the room mingles with the muffled sound of the music, creating an almost comfortable atmosphere, if it weren't for the tension that always hangs in the air. It would have been another ordinary evening.

Alexandre suddenly appeared, as he always does, with that authoritarian manner I hate. He pulled up a chair next to me, without asking, and leaned towards the table.

- We need to talk, Gabriel.

I rolled my eyes, knowing where this was going. I crossed my arms and stared at him with disinterest.

- If you've come to press me about that client again, save your breath. I won't take on anyone who comes with the intention of beating me up.

- You can't refuse this one, Gabriel," he said, his tone firm but controlled. - We're talking about a powerful man.

- So what? - I replied, letting out a short, bitter laugh. - I'm not going to be used as a toy to satisfy a lunatic.

- I'm not talking about a lunatic. - Alexandre narrowed his eyes, looking impatient. - You're playing with fire. If he doesn't answer, he could end up without a job. Let him close the place down.

- Then what the hell! - My voice got louder, attracting a few stares, but I didn't care. - I'm nobody's fetish, let alone a punching bag.

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine.

- BDSM isn't just about beating Gabriel. There's much more to it than we realize. It's about surrender, pleasure, control.

I let out a sarcastic laugh, leaning back in my chair.

- Of course. And I bet he doesn't have a whip in his hand right now, does he?

Alexandre hesitated for a second, long enough for my cynical smile to widen.

- Maybe he does," he finally admitted. - But that doesn't mean he's going to hurt you.

- And how do you guarantee that? - My tone was acid, defiant.

- Because I know this client. He's not here for violence. He wants something intense, but pleasurable. He's not like the others.

My gaze remained fixed on Alexandre's, trying to decipher the truth behind his words. There was sincerity in his voice, but that didn't diminish my resistance.

- I don't trust him. Or you.

Alexandre sighed, wiping his hand across his face as if he were fighting off frustration.

- Look, I know you're angry, but think about the future. This client isn't just powerful, he can open doors. Or close them.

- I won't sell out at any price," I retorted, pushing the glass aside hard enough to spill some of the red liquid. - No matter how much he has.

- "You're making a mistake, Gabriel," she insisted, lowering her tone, trying to sound more convincing. - He's interested in you, not just anyone. This could be your chance to get out of here.

- Not at the cost of my dignity.

Silence hung between us, fraught with tension. Alexandre seemed torn, as if he didn't know whether to keep trying to convince me or simply accept my refusal. He stood up slowly, straightening his jacket, but kept his gaze fixed on mine.

- I'm going to give you a few more minutes to think. All I ask is that you take your time. Don't judge this client before you've met him.

I didn't reply, I just crossed my arms and watched him walk away. When Alexandre disappeared among the club's customers, the weight of this conversation hung in the air, like a storm about to break.

I turned my attention to the glass, but the sweet taste of the drink didn't seem so pleasant now. The idea of serving a customer like that stirred me in ways I didn't want to admit. It wasn't just about what he could do. But about what he meant, the kind of power that men like him wielded over places like this.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my mind, but something told me that this story was far from over.

Minutes passed before Alexandre returned, his expression a mixture of irritation and determination. He stopped next to me, looking at me with a look like he couldn't accept an apology.

- Well? He wants to know your decision, Gabriel.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of this choice. The situation bothered me deeply, but something inside me told me that refusing again could be worse than accepting. I faced Alexandre, trying to show that I wouldn't give in without setting limits.

- If he does anything that I consider to be aggression, I'll leave that room immediately. I won't tolerate that kind of situation.

Alexandre nodded, a rare trace of understanding appearing on his face.

- Fine, as long as you go. But don't worry, he's not that kind of client.

I stood up, adjusting my vest, while Alexandre continued talking.

- One thing you need to know... He prefers the room in dark mode. He doesn't like to be seen in the light.

- Why is that? - Curiosity was inevitable, and my eyebrow arched at the novelty. - Is he ugly or what?

- It has nothing to do with it. He just doesn't like it.

I let out a mischievous laugh, unable to contain my sarcasm.

- Oh, right. Probably just another one of those hypocritical conservatives, hiding his perverse, domineering side. I bet he's also proud to say that he would never go to a place like this.

Alexandre just shook his head.

- That's not the point. Now come on, he's impatient, and you don't want to irritate him any further.

I rolled my eyes, but followed Alexandre down the corridor. The muffled sound of music from the main hall became more and more distant as we approached the room. The lighting in the corridor was dimmer, almost inviting, and a slight shiver ran down my spine.

Standing in front of the door to the red room, Alexandre turned to me one last time.

- Just do your best to make him happy. That way, you can get a good reward.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to dispel my growing anxiety. I took a deep breath and went inside.

The room is almost completely dark, except for the faint red lighting that barely outlines the furniture. A woody smell filled the space, dense, sophisticated. In the far corner, a figure was sitting in a leather armchair.

The voice that echoed from there was deep, hoarse, loaded with authority.

- You're smart enough to recognize the value of where you work, kid.

I stopped in the middle of the room, trying to adjust my eyes to the dim light, but it was impossible to make out the man's face. Only his silhouette was visible, with broad shoulders and an imposing posture.

- And the next time you dare to reject me..." He paused, his tone colder, laden with a veiled threat. - You'll regret your choices.

I swallowed, feeling the tension build in the air. The weight of his words was almost tangible, each syllable projecting a mixture of power and dominance. I crossed my arms, trying to show that I wasn't intimidated, even though inside my heart was racing.

- I didn't know that I was obliged to accept anything that was offered to me.

The silhouette in the armchair leaned forward slightly. Even without seeing his face, it was impossible not to feel his piercing gaze.

- It's not a question of obligation. It's about knowing your place. And, above all, it's about learning not to turn down those who are willing to invest in you.

These words carried an uncomfortable ambiguity. What did he really want? I tried to keep my tone firm.

- If you think it's just a question of money, you're wrong.

A heavy silence filled the room. Then a low laugh echoed, reverberating through the walls.

- Interesting. I liked seeing that spark in you. Don't worry, kid. Today I'm not here to break you, but to polish you.

That comment made my stomach turn. The tension between us was almost tangible, but there was something else that I couldn't decipher.