Chapter 2

Elena Murray

I sigh out loud as I push my front door open, my shoulders automatically sagging with relief as I take my heels off. I glare at them as I throw them on the shoe rack, "You're going to have to find someone else to murder today." I mumble out loud, glad I got them off and home early.

Work ended early for me today, Mr. Leizo having cut my day short as he had to leave for England due to his ninety-four-year-old mother getting a heart attack. I almost feel sad for him, but I don't because I know he's only gone to meet his mum to make sure his name is on her will. It hurts to see how he treats her like she's nothing but a burden. Stupid bastard doesn't know how bloody lucky he is to have her. I would kill to get mine back, yet he treats her like the dust of his foot.

I pray that all he inherits is her debts, that's if she has any. I doubt it, though. The Leizo family is rich, not new money rich but old money richy rich. They're so rich that Mr Leizo makes it look filthy. Though if Mrs Leizo still has any debt, I still hope he gets it, especially for the way he treats the women in his life.

I head to my room, flicking the light on as soon as I get there. I grab a T-shirt and shorts before heading off to take a shower.

The water is hot, so hot that my skin turns red the instant it touches it. It's the perfect temperature as a content sigh leaves my lips. I close my eyes, enjoying the steaming shower while mentally going through my schedule for the next few days.

I won't be seeing Mr. Leizo for the next few days since he's in England, but he's to return on Friday for a meeting with an important business associate. I still have to get the necessary files ready for that meeting. God, how I wish there was no meeting.

A groan leaves me at the thought of the meeting, and I lather myself up with soap before washing it away. I step out of the shower and get dressed quickly before heading to my kitchen to make dinner.

My kitchen is small and dainty, and I hate it. It's that one thing that makes it obvious I'm barely scraping with having to pay off my university debt and the money I had burrowed for Mum's medical care. It looks less like a kitchen and more like a shoe box.

I begin to put together pasta. It's fairly, quick work once I've got my sauce ready and the pasta boiled. I go back to my room, which sometimes acts like my living room and dining room at the same time.

I plop down on my mattress, the springs crying out loud from the harsh movement. I need to put some money aside to buy a new one. The thing is I am barely able to pay my rent and bills on time due to my debt, and there is no way on Earth I can get a new mattress.

I pull out my phone, deciding to scroll through Instagram while eating. Nothing seemed to catch my interest, the app seeming more boring than usual until I heard the loud ping of a notification.

It's Emily. She's messaging me.

I quickly scan over her message, and a defeated sigh leaves me when I realize that she's only messaged me to confirm our plans to go to the club tomorrow.

I hesitate for a single second before replying with my confirmation. I don't want to go to the club. It's not one of your everyday clubs, where people dress up, in short dresses and wear makeup to drink to their heart's content and dance till they can't walk. It's so much more than that. It's a place where people who act perfectly sane during the day like to let out their deepest, darkest desires to become what they are underneath it. The clubs are called Hellfire.

When I say it's hell, I mean it. Nothing as innocent as dancing and drinking a few shots happens there. It's a BDSM club. Everything there is erotic from the people to the clothes that you're allowed to wear inside. It's euphoria for the senses, yet I hate it. It is truly and utterly hell.

It's a constant reminder to me of how easy it can be to trust someone and get that trust broken in a heartbeat if anything goes wrong.

My ex-boyfriend was the first person to take me there. He was the one who introduced me to a dominant and submissive relationship. I had trusted him. I had trusted him with everything from what he could do to me to holding my heart in the palm of his hand. I had even started partaking in public acts when he crushed my heart that was sitting in the palm of his hand by going against one of the core foundations of our relationship.

It's also the place where I first met Emily. She was new to it, as was I, so we became good friends. I may have started to hate the club, but Emily still goes there to pick up her newest dom, she doesn't like staying in long relationships. So she's gotten into a habit of sleeping around with so of the people there, apparently, that's where you get some of the best dick.

The only reason I've decided to go with her is to get away from my apartment and my lonesome life. I'm single, and at this very point the erotic books I read no longer stir my loins the way they once used to. I can barely reach orgasm nowadays. It's like my body has forgotten how to go into orgasm. I've been craving sexual relief for months on end now, but nothing seems to work. I've even thought about going to the club alone, but I have been too scared especially, since the only other person I have ever gone with is my ex.

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