The hidden compartment with the toys still remained, backlit with blue lights, which glinted off the etched glass shelves. On one wall, where an eclectic but rather ordinary design had been, a St. Andrews cross shifted out from the wall, including the necessary hooks for restraints.
“Holy shit,” Tiegan muttered, walking over to inspect it.
Although the large X remained relatively flat to the wall, it was completely functional for its purpose.
In the ceiling, several restraints slid down, the panels closing back, meant to be aesthetically pleasing but giving the guests options for playtime. The credenza, which had waterfall edges originally, had converted into a cage big enough to hold a full-grown man, complete with bars and lock.
Additionally, we were adding a tantric chair in every hotel room, complete with cushioned inserts to allow for a variety of positions to be utilized.
Once Tiegan finished perusing, I led the way to the bedroom.
“This is where we’ve made the most updates,” I informed her.
“I’ll say.”
Without hesitation, she headed for the bed, admiring the four posts, the sheer netting, and plush fabrics. What she seemed most fascinated by was the stockade at the foot of the bed.
“We considered having it rise up during the transformation but worried a malfunction might cause serious injuries. Instead, there’s a padded leather cover that slides beneath the bed to be hidden. The same with the under-bed cage, there’s a leather cover that slides down over the bars to keep them discreet.”
“And this?” she asked, admiring a wooden table on the far side of the room.
“A place to hold personal items,” I said, deadpan.
Her head swung around.
I smiled. “Or it can be converted into a spanking bench.” I nodded toward it. “Complete with a padded cover for comfort.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
“I got the idea from Talon’s dungeon, actually,” I admitted. “As for the toys and furniture, that was all Ransom.”
She laughed, casting a sideways glance his way. “Into punishment, are you?”
He didn’t respond, but he smirked.
“We wanted to allow options, but not all Owners are interested in BDSM,” I admitted. “This allows them to ignore the extras if they choose, but they’re still there, just in case.”
“Are all the rooms the same?”
“The third and fourth floors are, yes. Different design elements,” Ransom told her, “but basically the same. These’ll be assigned to returning guests or the more reserved new Owners.”
“And those with … kinkier tastes?” Memphis inquired.
“We’re working to convert the current rooms the possessions are in for those. We don’t have one ready yet.”
“What about rooms for new Owners? Ones like Mr. A? Or Laura Dunbar?” Tiegan prompted.
“Right this way,” Ransom said, leading the way.
When Talon took my hand, following the others out of the room, I felt a sense of pride in what we’d designed. It had been a group effort, one that had required varying perspectives.
“This is my favorite part,” I told Talon when we stepped out of the elevator onto the fifth floor.
He simply chuckled, putting his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close while he brushed his lips against my head. “You’re a very dirty girl, baby.”
I was. There was no denying it.
This time when Tiegan said, “Holy shit,” I understood her shock.
There was no facade built in here, nothing to hide the fact that this was a room meant to be used for those with dark, dirty desires.
“What. Is. This?” she asked, pausing at a small room right off the main foyer.
“The receiving room,” Ransom told her. “Step inside.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but then took a hesitant step forward.
Overhead lights brightened the clinically-white space, and an electronic screen inset in the wall came on.
“Welcome, Tiegan,” a computer-generated voice greeted.
“It’s completely automated,” Ransom explained. “The Owner information is input at check-in. You can either respond using voice controls or the panel on the wall.”
“We’re happy to see you’ve selected possession four-seven-one for your visit,” the voice said. “Would you like to review him now?”
“Yes,” Tiegan answered, her amused gaze cutting to Memphis this time.
“Very well,” the voice replied. “First, please review the information on the screen to ensure this is the possession you are interested in.”
On the screen was the same information that previous Owners had seen when Talon had pulled it up. A picture of the possession’s face, along with details including eye color, hair color, height, weight, and a variety of other measurements.
“Is this the possession you’d like to inspect during your visit, Tiegan?”
“Yes,” she answered, now smiling.
I couldn’t say I blamed her, since the possession she was currently getting an intimate look at was mine. I’d selected Jones because I knew he had a penchant for voyeurism, something I’d learned in recent weeks.
A panel on the wall that ran parallel with the main hallway pulled back. Inside the three-by-three space was Jones, wearing a white robe.
“Possession four-seven-one, please discard your robe.”
Jones’s gaze met mine, and I nodded, giving him permission. He then removed the robe, placing it on a single hook in the corner.
“We will begin by providing updated measurements,” the automated voice said. “This will only take a moment.”
I smiled because this was what fascinated me most. Ransom had actually come up with the idea. A series of laser beams began moving inside the room, sliding over Jones’s body as the system computed all the measurements. On the screen, alongside those that had already been captured, the new measurements appeared, all flashing green as they matched perfectly.
“The scale is built into the floor,” Ransom noted. “This process eliminates the need for anyone’s assistance. The Owners can select the time at which they wish to perform the initial inspection. They can even decide whether they want to take possession now or wait until later in the event they have something else to take care of first.”
“Gives them more control as well as options,” Memphis mused. “That’ll go over well.”
“We believe it will,” Ransom agreed. “Plus, it keeps the staff free to do other things.”
“Tiegan,” the voice prompted, “would you like to continue the inspection of possession four-seven-one?”
“Of course I would,” she answered easily now.
“Possession four-seven-one, proceed to the inspection bed.”
The glass door slid back into the wall, allowing Jones to step out of the vestibule. On the opposite side of the room, another panel retreated, revealing a white padded table inset in another small room. There was roughly two feet of space on the other three sides of the table, allowing plenty of room for someone to walk around it.
After seeking my nod and getting my approval, Jones sidestepped Tiegan and climbed onto the bed, lying on his back.
“This is all so high-tech,” Tiegan said, grinning.
“Automation is the key to efficiency,” Ransom stated.
“Tiegan,” the voice said, “would you like to perform the physical inspection yourself? Or would you like me to assist?”
Her eyebrows rose. “I’ll … uh … let you assist.”
“Very well.”
Just like in Talon’s dungeon, panels retreated, and an electronic arm extended.
There were still tweaks being made to the machine, but this one did as it was programmed to for Jones specifically, everything set for his exact measurements. It started with a milking machine that stroked his cock until he was erect. At that point, another beam of light moved across him, measuring the full length of him. When that was co
mplete, the automated voice instructed him to turn over, describing the position he would need to move into. He did, pulling his knees up beneath him and leaning forward, his chest on the padded top, his ass in the air.
After another beam of light crossed over him, gauging the exact position he was in, a different motorized arm shifted down, this one with a dildo on the end. It proceeded to slide into his ass. On this one, there was a camera that projected onto the screen, giving the Owner full visibility.
“There are numerous options an Owner can select from. Some don’t require anal probing,” Ransom explained. “Others like to indulge. The intake rooms, where the possessions come when they first arrive on the island, have also been updated with the same equipment. Dr. Tate and Jayda will still be required to screen every possession upon their arrival, but it will no longer require the assistance of others.”
“Efficient. I like it,” Memphis said, turning to Talon. “I assume the marketing is up to us.”
“That it is.”
“Will you be completely functional for the upcoming retreat?”
“We no longer have the need for scheduled retreats,” Talon explained, his arm coming around me once again. “Getting fully automated and better staffed has allowed us to welcome current and future Owners on a regular basis. We’ll still manage occupancy, but we’re aiming for a steadier flow versus an influx.”
A knock sounded on the door, all heads turning toward the newcomer.
Zion stepped into the room, his gaze coming to rest on Talon. “Boss, we’ve got incoming.”
Talon’s arm fell from around my shoulder, taking my hand, his silent request for me to follow.
“Ransom,” I said quickly, “please have Jones returned to the house.”
“Let Memphis handle that,” Zion called out. “Ransom, you’re gonna want to follow me.”
“What’s going on? What does incoming mean?” I asked.
“An inbound plane. Gulfstream, to be exact,” Zion informed us.
“Who’s onboard that plane?”
“Couldn’t tell you, but the registered owner is none other than Trent Ramsey.”
“No one knew he was coming?” Talon asked, peering over at my brother.
Ransom shook his head. “Haven’t heard from him in weeks.”
No one had, I knew.
*
RANSOM
To say Talon was pissed was an understatement. Evidently, the man did not approve of surprise arrivals here on his private island.
Not that I necessarily blamed him.
“How many passengers are logged on that flight?” I asked Zion when we stepped out of the resort.
“Six, including two pilots and one flight attendant.”
“Who’d he bring with him?”
“More importantly,” Talon injected, “why the fuck didn’t he tell us he was coming?”
Knowing Trent, it was because he wanted the face-to-face. I took that to mean he had good news, because it was just like Trent to want to deliver it so he could take the credit.
“Plane landed five minutes ago,” Zion said. “I instructed security to drive him in. They should be here—”
Phones chimed, signaling someone was approaching the resort.
We were nearing the driveway as the Range Rover pulled in, stopped, three of the four doors opening.
Trent was in the front seat while…
“Well, hell,” I muttered, heading to the three men looking around in awe.
“This is nice,” Isaac Stokes said, smiling. “Why the hell haven’t we been invited before?”
“You weren’t invited now,” Talon said, his tone hard, his big body partially blocking Braelyn from view.
Clearly Isaac and his twin brother, Ian, hadn’t gotten that memo. Not if the hard glare they directed at Trent was any indication.
Trent didn’t seem at all fazed, his attention shifting to me. “It’s done.”
Done? Meaning…?
Trent then looked at Talon. Information passed between them with a simple nod, but I had no idea what it meant.
“We apologize for not letting you know,” Ian said, stepping forward, glancing sideways at Trent. “We just figured…”
Yeah, assuming Trent did anything was never a good thing.
“In our defense,” Ian continued, “we thought it was important to come here, share the details in person. Don’t trust electronic communication for this.”
Which told me everything I needed to know.
Talon seemed to put away his anger at the disruption, proceeding with introductions. The new arrivals shook hands with Zion, offered a few pleasantries.
“This is my sister, Braelyn,” I said, doing the honors, although I could see Talon wasn’t pleased. “Braelyn, meet Ian and Isaac Stokes. And this—”
“We’ve met,” Braelyn interrupted, linking fingers with Talon. “Nice to see you again.”
“Why don’t we offer our guests a drink,” Zion suggested when no one said anything more.
Yes. A drink.
Then some fucking details would be nice.
I considered asking Braelyn to let us talk privately, then decided against it. My sister had been through enough. The last thing she needed was for me to act as another shield between her and her future. Considering all she’d endured the past couple of months, I’d learned my sister had gotten familiar with nontraditional methods of dealing with things.
Back inside the resort, I summoned two of the new possessions to bring drinks while Trent, Ian, and Isaac looked around as though they’d never seen a resort of this magnitude. I knew that wasn’t the case. At least not for Trent. The man was Hollywood’s golden boy. I was sure he’d seen plenty.
As drinks were being passed around, Jasper strolled out from the clinic. Today he was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a polo rather than his usual scrubs. In recent weeks, I’d noticed that shift in him. As though he now had someone he wanted to impress. Just the thought made me smile.
“I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Jasper Tate,” I said, standing up and inviting Jasper over with a sweep of my arm. “Jasper, meet Trent Ramsey.”
The two men shook hands, and I saw the slow recognition on Jasper’s face, the way his eyes bulged. It was the same reaction most people had to meeting the famous actor.
“And this is Ian Stokes,” I said. “His brother, Isaac.”
More handshakes and nods.
“By any chance is this the Jasper?” Ian asked me directly, his voice low.
I studied his face, trying to read him.
He merely smiled. “We’ve been friends a long time, Ransom. Some of us have good memories.”
“Yes,” I finally said. “He is.”
There was a knowing twinkle in Ian’s eyes.
“Perhaps you could give us some details,” Talon prompted, his voice hard.
Trent took that as his cue. “According to the update I received from Max Adorite, your parents are no longer a threat to you.”
“Are they dead?” Braelyn asked, her words a harsh whisper.
Trent turned to her, addressed her head on. “No. They are not. However, they are indisposed.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning Frank and Marie Bianchi, as well as Senator Marybeth Abernathy, were arrested yesterday afternoon thanks to an anonymous tip. They’ve been the focus of an ongoing RICO investigation for the past two years, but the FBI hadn’t been able to pin anything on them.”
“Now they have?” I asked.
“They have and they are officially out of commission. In fact, it’s my understanding that their territory is being acquired by another crime family, a more powerful one, so even if they happen to beat the rap, they have nothing left for them.”
“And their henchman?” Talon asked.
I could see the concern in Trent’s eyes when he looked at my sister.
“She can hear this,” I informed him.
“She needs to hear this,” Talon added.
&nbs
p; “Jimmy Romano was not there during the raid on the Bianchi residence,” Ian stated, “however, his body was found floating in the Chicago River this morning.”
Braelyn’s sharp inhale had everyone looking at her.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Talon whispered, pulling her into his chest.
I looked at Jasper, tried to gauge his reaction to the news, but his expression remained passive, as though he was waiting for something more.
Turned out he didn’t have to wait long.
The something more came when Trent said, “The two of you are now free to come home. And let me just tell you, there’s a lot of people awaiting your return.”
Braelyn pulled back from Talon, meeting my gaze. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but I could see a hint of relief.
“Your job’s still waiting for you,” Trent continued, speaking directly to me. “As is the club.”
I directed my next question at him. “I take it everyone knows we’re not dead?”
“The news hit a lot of people hard. I felt it was important to tell them as soon as I could.”
Of course he did, even though he had no right to do that. I didn’t bother reaming him about it since Trent and I had been friends for a while. He’d given me a job when I had needed one, allowed me the freedom to do as I wanted. Not to mention, he had spearheaded this endeavor to take down my parents. I now owed him.
“Zeke wanted to be here,” Isaac said, “but we convinced him to handle the welcome home party instead.”
“Question is, when should I tell the pilots we’re heading out?” Trent asked with a wide grin. “We’ll even help you pack.”
For a perceptive man, he seemed to have gone blind.
FORTY-FIVE
Braelyn
“I need to talk to my sister,” Ransom said, looking at me.
When I peered up at Talon, it wasn’t to seek permission. More so because I wanted to read his thoughts. Was he affected by the fact that I was now free to go back to Chicago? Did he expect me to go? Want me to go?
Unfortunately, his expression was masked, as it always was when it came to matters such as this. Talon was not a man to allow others to see him vulnerable, even when it came to me, apparently.
Owned (Office Intrigue Book 8) Page 50
