Chapter 104 Mismatched

Chapter 104 Mismatched
Caleb
The club was already alive when I walked in, lights dimmed low, and pulsing to the rhythm of bass that vibrated through the floor and straight into my bones. Bodies moved everywhere, women draped in glitter and skin, men watching with hungry eyes, money changing hands without questions being asked. The air smelled like alcohol, perfume, sweat, and power, the kind of place where people came to forget who they were or pretend to be someone else for a few hours.
This place had changed since Diego died, and I made sure of that. The layout was cleaner, the security tighter, and the noise more controlled, but the soul of it was still the same. It was still a den of secrets, and it still answered to me. Diego’s death had been ruled a suicide just like I planned, his body found outside the casino with enough evidence planted to satisfy the police and shut down curiosity. Money had closed the rest of the mouths that needed closing.
I didn’t stop to greet anyone as I walked through the crowd. They all knew better than to get in my way. My presence alone was enough to straighten backs and quiet voices. I made my way toward the VIP section, past velvet ropes and private booths, until I reached the one reserved for me.
A woman was already waiting inside. One of the strip dancers but this one is exclusively for me.
Mariana rose smoothly when she saw me, long legs unfolding like she’d rehearsed it a thousand times. She wore a red outfit that barely qualified as clothing, sequins catching the light every time she moved. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, and her lips curved into a smile that was practiced but not fake. Mariana was good at what she did, and she knew exactly how to read the room.
“Long night… Master?” she asked, her voice low, her accent soft.
I loosened my jacket and sat back on the couch, stretching my arm across the leather. “You have no idea.”
Music thumped harder as she stepped closer, placing herself between my knees, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. She began to move with the beat, slow at first, her body rolling in a way meant to pull my focus and keep it there. I watched her without touching, my eyes tracing the familiar curves, the way she swayed, the way she knew exactly how to look at me without saying a word.
“Take it off,” I said quietly.
She didn’t hesitate. Mariana never did. She carried out every request without question. Whether it was fear, or the understanding that survival here meant obedience, I couldn’t say.
She rose from my lap and stepped back, giving me a clear view of her.
Slowly, she slid the straps down her shoulders, letting the fabric fall away piece by piece. She turned, deliberately, showing me exactly what she wanted me to see. Her breasts spilled free, and she laughed softly as she pushed her thong down her hips. Stepping out of it, she stood naked before me—unashamed, exposed. Her clit peeked out, bold and unmistakable.
“Do you like what you see, Master?” she asked, a sly smile curving her lips. “I could touch myself for you, if you want.”
“I’m not in the mood for that today,” I said, leaning back in the chair, settling into it. “Just dance.”
She climbed onto my lap, straddling me. Her hands glided over my chest, nails tracing slow paths down my arms. I felt her warmth, the press of her body against mine, skin against skin—but my mind was elsewhere, far from where it should have been.
It hadn’t been for seven years.
Elsie’s face came uninvited, as it always did. Her eyes, her voice, the way she used to look at me like I was something more than a monster. Seven years since I thought she was dead, seven years since I told myself I’d moved on, and seven years since I’d let another woman touch me like this.
Mariana leaned closer, her lips brushing my ear as her hand moved down, fingers grazing my belt.
I caught her wrist.
“Stop,” I said.
She froze immediately, pulling back just enough to look at me, confusion flickering across her face. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I said, releasing her slowly. “You didn’t.”
She slid off my lap, settling beside me instead, pulling one leg up under her. “Then what is it?”
I leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before looking at her again. “This is as far as it goes. You know that.”
Her lips pressed together, but she nodded. “I know.”
“This room,” I continued, my voice steady. “The dance, the company. That’s it. It doesn’t cross that line.”
She studied me for a moment, then smiled faintly. “You’re the strangest man I’ve ever worked for.”
“I get that a lot.”
She stood and picked up a silk robe, slipping it over her shoulders. “You want me to stay?”
“Yes,” I said. “Just… stay.”
She nodded again and moved to the side, giving me space while still being there, and I was grateful for that. Mariana understood boundaries better than most people in my life ever had.
The club pulsed on around us, but my mind drifted back again, uninvited and relentless. Elsie had a way of doing that. I had thought she was dead. I had believed it with everything in me, felt I had failed her, thought I deserved the hollow life I’d been living since.
I hadn’t touched another woman because touching meant remembering, and remembering meant guilt.
A knock came at the door.
Mariana glanced at me, then moved aside as the door opened.
Alejandro stepped in, his face tight, “Boss,” he said, closing the door behind him. “We have a problem.”
I straightened, every muscle going rigid. “What kind of problem?”
“The kind you need to see for yourself.”
I stood, shrugging my jacket back on. “Where?”
“Downstairs,” he said. “Underground.”
I didn’t ask questions. Alejandro didn’t interrupt me unless it mattered. I followed him out of the VIP section, through a secured hallway, past doors that only a few people had access to. The music faded as we descended, replaced by the low hum of generators and the sound of machinery.
The underground section was where the real business happened, the part of the club no one talked about and no one stumbled into by accident. My men stood scattered around the space, tense, watching something in the center of the room.
Or someone.
I stopped dead.
Elsie stood there like she had every right to be, dressed in black, her posture straight, her face calm in a way that made my chest tighten painfully. Her hair was pulled back, her eyes sharp and focused, and there was no fear in her expression, only resolve.
She lifted her eyes and looked straight at me, and there was no mistaking it.
“What the fuck…” I whispered, the words falling out of me before I could stop them. “Why are you here?”
“Checking on this side of the family business, brother.” She said, wearing a cold expression.