I stepped between them and hooked an arm over each of their shoulders, leading to the hidden passageway to our underground Temple. “It’s been a while since we were on a mission together.”

Emerson leant into my side. “Definitely long overdue.”

Spencer’s smile grew wider, almost predatory. “I’ve been waiting for our killer band to regroup for so long. Wait ‘till you see what I have planned.”

My lips curved higher. Knowing my sister, her plan was absolutely crazy and rash—exactly the way we like it.

Forbidden Garden was a hot mess, the interior drenched in various shades of pink (which wasn’t completely horrid, in itself). More so, it was the overdramatic embellishments that gave it a tacky appearance: ostentatious chandeliers, plastic oversized plants and cheap furniture dominated the space.

Regardless of my harsh assessment, Forbidden Garden was bustling with irresistible enticement and sugary temptation.

I wore a lingerie one-piece in the design of a red rose, the green stem a thin piece of string replicating a thong. The flower embroidered over my front, with mini petals blooming to barely cover my nipples and centre. I’d airbrushed my skin, tattoos disguised beneath the pristine makeup, resulting in a sheen finish reflecting off the dimmed lights.

An external spare of desire was the only warning my Variant gave before a hard palm slapped against my butt cheek.

“Grab me another bourbon, Rose Petal, and I’ll soothe that ache for you,” said a gruff, masculine voice. He had platinum blonde hair that fell into his cold, dark brown eyes. He seemed familiar, though I was sure I’d never met him before.

My fingers twitched to return the favour. Instead I inclined my head and aimed for the bar, lined against the back of the theatre room. I spared a cursory glance to the elevated stage up front, two women provocatively dancing a well-rehearsed strip tease.

Ava mixed drinks behind the bar, tracking my approach. She didn’t know who I was, curious eyes shifting over my stranger’s face. She wore a full-length sheer gown, embroidered daisies perfectly situated over her most private areas.

Every female in Forbidden Garden, no matter their rank or position, was named after a flower, their attire displaying their alias for clientele simplicity and anonymity.

Ava was tall, with familiar midnight blue hair and recognisable facial structure. Her similarities with August threw me the first time I’d caught sight of her, the resemblance irrefutable. She didn’t have any visible guards, however many Ludus members loitered the halls. Taking her would be a challenging feat, but one that would be satisfying when successful.

I leant over the bar, wearing an easy smile.

“Wait your turn, bitch,” said a high-pitched voice from behind. I glanced over my shoulder to catch a woman with a stylish bob, wearing an outfit wholly consisting of draping jewels. She struggled to hide her aged skin beneath caked make-up, accompanied by gigantic eyelashes nearly as big as her ego.

She barked her order and placed a living, breathing chihuahua on the bar, its gigantic balls hanging so low they almost scraped the countertop.

Fucking unhygienic, much?

Ava wordlessly planted the drink in front of her, not meeting her eyes.

“You forgot something,” I said. “Your manners for Daisy here.” My gaze flicked to Ava, whose mouth was agape.

The woman sneered. “Mind your business, whore.”

“Original. If you didn’t notice, we’re in a whorehouse.”

She turned, full-bodied, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “I’ll let you off this one time, since you're new. But let me put this plainly for your stupid, slut brain. I’m Eden, the Mistress of Forbidden Garden, and paramour to Maximus.”

“Not the only one, I bet.”

Eden shoved my shoulders. “Watch your fucking mouth.” After that, she was too busy chastising me to notice when I danced my fingers in the air to gain her dog’s attention, who chased the movement.

With the perfect accuracy of coincidence, someone called Eden’s name. As her head turned towards the call, her dog trotted forward, directly over her drink, saggy balls dipping low in her glass as it passed.

I tried and failed to hold in a chuckle. I thought I did well not to burst into hysterics on the spot. Eden’s head snapped back to find her faithful chihuahua enjoying a good pat from me. The little fella deserved it.

Eden snatched him out of reach and cooed. “No, Franny. We don’t associate ourselves with filth. You’re lucky I have VIP guests to attend to,” she said, grabbing her drink. As her parting back disappeared through the crowd, her head lowered to sip from her glass. I couldn’t prevent my lips from lifting into a wide-toothed grin.

Ava stood frozen. She’d had a front-row seat to that whole shit show. I winked, then released another carefree giggle before disappearing myself.

I found the heavy-handed asshole on a chaise sofa facing the stage, a flower girl strewn over his lap as he licked chocolate syrup off her breasts.

Another male sat across from him, identical in physical appearance. Even with their alarming resemblance, they couldn’t have had more conflicting auras.

The first was volatile and unpredictable; pale scruffy hair, expensive suit creased and sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Whereby his counterpart was the image of polished precision; black, vibrant hair impeccably slicked back, each button and stitch of his suit in perfect alignment. The only abnormality was the piece of thin silver dangling from his pierced ear. He ignored everyone and everything in the room, including the duo that canoodled across from him. He was rigid and unapproachable, difficult to read—even for me.

I placed the drink on the glass side table and turned to leave. Fucked if I was going to interrupt and ruin a girl’s pay check. Before I could disappear, a fresh lick of fear danced down my spine. I sucked in a breath and contemplated my options.

To stay or leave?

A pained groan released from the mahogany-skinned woman wedged between his legs. He held a firm hand over her forehead, while the other lined her jaw, grip so tight he had her pinned, bruises sure to leave a mark.

“Lily, you’re needed in the pink room,” I said. At least it wasn’t hard to guess her pseudonym.

Lily detangled herself and squeezed my hand, purple eyes flashing in gratitude.

Why am I such a pussy these days?

“All rooms are pink,” he said, challenging my order. He knew I was full of shit.

I gave a timid smile. “She knows which one.”

Lily nodded in reply as I ushered her away. I didn’t get the chance to follow.

“Come here,” he ordered. I stepped forward.

“Closer,” he reprimanded, flicking his fingers until I was bent directly over him.

I knew what was coming, not that it helped. I could have blocked the advance and squished his hairy balls until he squealed like a pig. Unfortunately, a pitfall of the job was to stay in character, and I was ever the professional. Forcing my muscles not to react, I took the hit. He backhanded me so hard that I landed on my knees between his feet, the imprint of his slap ingrained into my fucking cheek.

“I’m glad you sent her away,” he purred, nuzzling my hair out of my face. “She wasn’t strong enough to handle me. You are, though, aren’t you Rose Petal?”

I kept my eyes on the ground, knowing that’s what he wanted.

My humiliation, my surrender, my pain.

“I like to give pain, so much pain. And my brother here, he likes to give pleasure,” he continued to stroke my hair, whispering in a placating tone. “Once I’ve finished taking you apart, he’ll put you back together again. Make you whole.”

“I’m fully booked tonight.”