After his father, Michael would one day become the Manhattan branch leader. And by his side, she would help continue the organization’s good work. What greater privilege was there? What more could she ask for? Yet, the thought of Michael did not cause excitement, the kind of sensation her school and university friends had described when they talked about their romantic interests.
But those feelings…they were not important…were they? Shared beliefs and compatibility were the most essential qualities in a marriage, and Michael and she had those.
Yet, she sometimes experienced a longing, as if she was missing out. Michael and she had dated for over two years, but they had not done anything more than kiss, in accordance with the rules of the organization they belonged to. Yet, her mother fretted every time they both went out alone, fearing that modern times may corrupt her only daughter and lead her away from her faith, but her worries were unfounded. Although Ivy had sinful urges that she could not quell through prayer, none of those desires were stimulated by Michael. When he kissed her, no heat rushed between her legs, and she did not experience the ache that sometimes kept her awake at night, tormenting her until she nearly committed the sin of touching herself…
“There is no point standing out here gaping at the dress.” As mother’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, Ivy felt her cheeks flush. Thankfully, Pearl was too engrossed in the gown to notice. “Shall we go inside, and you can try it on?”
It was more of an order than a question. When they entered the spacious boutique with its soft crème carpets and large windows, assistants fussed around them as if they were newborn babies. Within half an hour, Ivy stood in the strapless bodice and meringue-like skirt before a full-length mirror, with mother and a shop assistant staring at her with wide eyes. The assistant had put her blond hair up in a quick bun and arranged the white veil over it, so it just covered her green eyes.
“Beautiful.”
Ivy had no idea of who said the word as she stared at her reflection, feeling nothing.
“What do you think?” asked mother.
“It will do.”
“We’ll need something to cover the top, though,” said mother.
“Of course,” said the assistant. “We have dressed plenty of Association brides and know the requirements.” She left the changing room and soon returned with a cropped short sleeve shrug jacket, embroidered to match the gown.
When Ivy pulled on the jacket, mother’s eyes shone with approval. “Perfect.”
The smiling assistant left the changing room. As mother helped her out of the dress, Ivy asked, “Is it supposed to feel like this?” She then murmured, almost to herself. “As if my life is ending?”
A silence hung between them as she got back into her knee-length brown dress. Pearl stared at the bodice in her hands, eventually speaking. “They really have made exquisite use of the crystals, haven’t they? Look at the detail on the bodice…” Her mouth was now tight as she turned toward the changing room exit. “This marriage…it is the right thing. For us.”
It was an unspoken truth that had dictated their lives since Ivy was a child. They needed the Association. Father, who ran a successful investment firm, had been involved in the organization. They hadn’t been as wealthy as some other organization members, but they led a comfortable life until father was murdered. He’d had business dealings with mob members, and after a property dispute, the men he was once friends with did not hesitate to end his life. Those criminal elements also wasted no time in taking his flourishing business over, even though it had legally transferred to Pearl after father’s death.
At that time, Pearl and Ivy had only one place to turn to. The Association.
It was an open secret that the powerful organization had contacts in the mob, and as the Manhattan leader, John not only announced that Pearl and Ivy were under their protection but also used the Association’s connections to get the business back. And since then, he ran the company, Harrison Business Solutions, on their behalf. Ivy had stepped into the main branch of the business a handful of times—even though it was her inheritance. The company had expanded over the years, but neither mother nor she had any idea of what its worth might be. Hell, they didn’t even get a look at the accounts. And once Michael finished his studies at an Association institute, he took over the management of the firm. When Ivy graduated, she’d hoped to be in charge of one of the offices but was told by John and Michael that she should use her education for the Association’s cause and not worry herself with the business. In fact, John had already been to a lawyer and drawn up documents so that after the marriage, Michael would become a partner in the firm…
“Ivy!” Mother’s voice came from outside the changing room. When Ivy returned to the shop, assistants were waiting, each of them holding items to show her. “How about this?” Mother had taken a piece of embroidered netting and draped it around her shoulders. Such a pretty noose.
Ivy and Pearl had nowhere else to turn, did they? The Association had given mother and her protection since her childhood, and its never-ending enemies knew they were both closely affiliated with it. Even if they wanted to leave, they could not, because then who would protect them from those who bore them grudges? And to stay within it, they had to strengthen their position. And what better way than to marry the son of the Manhattan leader?
“Beautiful…” Pearl now ran her fingers over a long silk red dress before holding it against herself as she stared in the mirror. “You need to have this, dear, for your honeymoon—”
The honeymoon…
The Association did not encourage sexual pleasure, but its women knew their duty was to procreate, which meant Ivy would have to share Michael’s bed whenever he expected it. Nausea gripped her stomach, and she rushed out of the boutique, with its designer dresses, accessories and expensive price tags. Back in the open space of the upper level, she leaned over the rail, staring down at people who did not have large bank accounts or the backing of important organizations, but smiled and laughed…
“Ivy?” Mother had rushed out of the shop behind her and now placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes. Just a little tired…”
“Well, the boutique will make any adjustments and then deliver the dress to us this week. And we can leave the rest of the shopping until another day.” Her mother took a strand of her hair that had fallen loose over her face and pushed it behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I get carried away, don’t I?”
Ivy gave her mother the smile she’d adopted since she was a child, assuring her that everything was all right, and she would continue to play along with the façade of happiness…she wasn’t about to burst the bubble, not now. Not after they’d pretended so long that they now believed this was what they wanted.
Sinful thoughts.
Nerves were natural—after all, her life was about to change—but as John had taught them, challenges were nothing more than opportunities to prove one’s faith. And mother and she had been faithful for years. In fact, after they left the mall, Ivy would go to church and ask for both forgiveness and strength. Mother and she had been truly blessed. When she thought of the alternative that could have been, it made her shudder…and even through the difficulties, at least they’d had each other, hadn’t they?
But that would also change because Michael had decided to move away from Manhattan, and when Ivy went with him, Pearl would remain here. As usual, neither mother nor she protested. At least the Association would take good care of mother, always.
Now, as they both stared at the shoppers below them on the lower level, Ivy no longer envied them. Look at that young lady in old jeans and a sweater…how the security guard kept an eye on her as she wandered around the mall. And that laughing group…they would never get beyond the windows of these shops. In fact, when one woman tried to enter a boutique, a lady from inside the shop came to the door, blocking the entrance. A far cry from the renowned designers who had been calling ever since they hea
rd about Ivy’s upcoming wedding.
“Look at those unholy creatures.” Ivy glanced at the group that had taken mother’s attention. Supernatural youngsters. One of them was a shifter who had his fangs and claws on display, oblivious to the disapproving looks thrown at him by passing humans. And what was that little witch thinking of, giggling as she made mist rise from her hands? Exhibitionists.
Why couldn’t they do this in the privacy of their homes instead of bringing their abnormalities out in public for innocent members of the public to be exposed to? In fact, it was part of the treaty their representatives had signed with the state, wasn’t it, that they would assimilate with humans and display no supernatural abilities? A security guard approached them, and with him was a tall male, his face tense and eyes flickering with light. The youngsters’ smiles disappeared when they saw him, making Ivy guess that he was one of those supernaturals responsible for monitoring the behavior of their own kind. After speaking to them, he turned—and with a display of unexpected subservience, the youngsters followed him, not even responding when jeers were thrown at them.
“They are unnatural beings,” mother muttered. “An offense against the just order.”
University…it was the only place Ivy had experienced some freedom, but she never abused it. No boyfriends, dates or one-night stands…and no house parties or drugs like the rest of her friends. As for the supernaturals, she only mingled with them when necessary for the sake of study assignments. At least the ones who went to her university behaved normally among the students and didn’t feel the need to highlight their own differences.
Mother and she walked on, but it was not long before they stopped again. “Ooh, look at that.” Pearl had paused outside a wedding cake shop, her eyes shining as she took in the array of masterpieces. There was a particularly beautiful one in red and gold. The shiny icing looked like silk, cascading down the cake in a decadent display. Crystals and gold roses decorated it, creating a shimmering effect under the light. How could anyone bear to eat such a creation? “Let’s go inside.” There was no point protesting, so Ivy followed mother into the shop. “Please show us some white cakes,” mother ordered the man behind the counter. “Your most expensive ones, please.”
Again, no point protesting. What difference did it make what color the cake was? The wedding would last one day…and she had a whole lifetime to cope with. As her mother spoke to the manager about flavor options, Ivy’s mobile rang.
Rehana, one of her best friends from university. But the call did not make her feel any better, because she got the feeling her friend was about to give her an earful. Ivy went to the side of the shop, where she’d be out of earshot—mother was too busy swooning over cake decorations to notice. She drew a deep breath before answering the phone, because she could guess what Rehana was calling about. God, her university friends had been pushing her for a bachelorette party before the religious ceremony. They could not come to the marriage as they were not from the Association, but they would be at the reception party to be held a few days later. Before then, they wanted to go for a night out…but a group of females out alone, partying and drinking, went against the Association’s traditions.
“How’s the shopping going?” asked Rehana.
“I think it’s best to leave the decisions to others.” John and Michael had been looking at venues but had not asked her to come along.
“Seriously, this makes me so mad—”
“Rehana—”
“Fine. I won’t say anything, but come on…we need to have a proper party before you go off and get hitched.”
“The Association doesn’t allow it—”
“That’s why we’re insisting on doing it now, way before the religious ceremony. Just say you’re going for dinner or something. Nobody will guess it’s a bachelorette. Come on; it’s only one night.” As Rehana spoke, the idea took root. Since returning from university, Ivy had hardly seen her friends. Not because she was busy with her company, because John and Michael had decided she wasn’t needed in her own firm. Instead, they’d directed her to put her degree to use in the Association office. She spent half her time dealing with organization matters and overseeing its marketing campaigns. The other half? It somehow got used up preparing to be an ideal wife to Michael…endless cups of coffee and mingling with other wives and fiancées of important Association males.
“Come on, Ivy.” Her friend wasn’t going to let go of this. “Soon we’ll all be going off with our own lives. Who knows when we’ll next be in Manhattan at the same time?”
Was one night out with her friends too much to ask for?
“All right,” Ivy said, “We’ll go out. But a low-key dinner at a nice restaurant, and that’s it.”
“Come on, Ivy…”
“It’s that or nothing.”
“Fine, Ivy. But I choose the restaurant. Next Friday night?”
“Just remember that it has to be somewhere—”
“Yes. The food will be properly blessed…”
“Great. See you then.”
As Ivy hung up the phone, there was no anticipation at the fact that she would go for a night out with her friends…only a nervous anxiety in the pit of her stomach, because she would have to lie to mother and Michael about this…
What if they found out the truth?
No, they wouldn’t find out. She would be free of the Association for one night and go out with her friends. Dinner and maybe a drink, and then she’d return.
Just a few hours. What could go wrong?
CHAPTER TWO
* * *
THE NEW DANCE ZONE, FREEFALL, meant more work for Junaid, but he was in his damn element. He’d worked at Eclipse for over a year now. Manhattan’s most popular social venue, it stood on its own island and comprised over thirty zones. Until now, he’d managed Oasis, the first dance zone in the venue, and a couple of months ago, he took over Freefall. His boss Blade had trusted him to manage this new area as he wanted. He’d been involved in every part of its development, from the original plans to the marketing of its event nights.
All that hard work…it had paid off big time. Job satisfaction, his own apartment and a tidy sum in the bank, even though he was only in his early thirties. What more could a lion shifter in his position want?
The zone was smaller than Oasis, which meant there was only one dance floor, but the area more than made up for that through a creative use of space. There were suspended stages with four DJs who played synchronized tracks and created a vibe that sent a drug, alcohol and hormone-fueled audience into ecstasy. And the nonstop entertainment did not end at electronic music. Male and female dancers performed with fire and LED on suspended stages that protruded from the black walls and were bathed in strobe lighting. And the special touch that had been Junaid’s idea? Live musicians who played alongside the DJs.
Since its opening, they’d flown in musicians from all over the globe, and tonight, a violin player from Japan stood on a stage suspended above the dance floor, her melodies blending with the electronic music to create a unique fusion. One of the dancers, particularly athletic, jumped to the dance floor, sending the crowd into greater rapture, and the violin player responded by lifting it a notch—if he didn’t know better, her bow speed would have made Junaid wonder if she was a supernatural.
On the dance floor, bodies writhed and rubbed against each other, sometimes moving in time with the music but most often, dancing to their own rhythm. The zone was full, despite being a new one and not the most extreme in Eclipse. The pleasure zones were among the most popular areas in the venue, and few left them without indulging some sexual need. And there were also restaurants and lounge bars where customers went for a more somber experience. And among all those spaces, Freefall commanded its fair share of visitors.
Junaid moved from the upper landing to the lower area where the dance floor was. From there, he continued to keep an eye on the place, his eyes darting here and there, never still. Lights flashed around the crowds,
contrasting with the black walls, the strobe effects driving the energy up. His attention was dragged to the dance floor, where a couple was getting carried away. The guy had opened the waistband of the girl’s jeans and had his hand inside, and any moment now, she would orgasm right there, on the dance floor. Junaid used his communication device to contact the nearest security guard, Laura. When she glanced over at him, Junaid indicated toward the couple. She grinned before going over to have a word, and it was enough for them to separate. Good for them.
“Is it sorted?” he asked the guard over the device, as always following up on incidents instead of assuming all was resolved. His enhanced shifter hearing meant he could tune out other sounds and hear Laura’s voice over the loud music and noise.
“Yes. I asked them if they wanted to book a room in the hotel or a ticket to a pleasure zone, but they want to keep dancing here for now.”
“Keep an eye on them and anyone else who takes the making out too far.”
If they wanted to get up to that stuff in public, there were other zones in Eclipse that were more suitable, and of course, the venue had a luxury hotel where customers booked rooms for privacy.
Now that Laura had her eyes on the dance floor, he turned away from it. He rarely had to get personally involved in problems that arose in this zone. He was hired for this place not only because he had managed lounge bars and clubs before, but because he was a trained martial artist and weapons master. But for most of the crowd that came here, the risk of a lifetime ban was enough to make them behave, so he rarely had to bother himself with disputes.
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