wandered over to the row of cabinets against the wall. “I cautioned you not to drink while on duty, and here you are, blaming me for something you had complete control over. Had you not violated my trust, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
I snorted. “What trust? You left me for dead on day one.”
He sighed and unlocked a cabinet. “I won’t revisit that conversation anymore. You already know what my intentions were, and your disappearance wasn’t something I anticipated.” When the cabinet door opened, he pulled out a bottle. “These are my personal collection.”
I stared at a row of bottles. The only thing that distinguished one from the next was the color of the screw cap. “Are those bottles spiked? You know that’s illegal.”
He unscrewed the cap to one and sniffed it. “I’m not a man who likes rules, but we need them to make this place run efficiently. This club is rife with customers who are looking for excitement. That said, I do enjoy a little chaos now and then.”
“Your chaos almost got me—”
“‘Got you’ is the wrong word choice. The magic in that bottle amplifies your primitive urges, allowing you to relinquish all inhibitions. It’s the stripped-down version of you—the most authentic you. Have you ever heard of love potions? They’re not a thing of lore. Sensors used to sell them for good money, but things like that have gone out of fashion.” He set down the bottle and approached me with an easy stride. “Poe broke the rules and entered my club.”
“To save me.”
Houdini tilted his head, his features unreadable. “What a hero. I didn’t take you for a woman who needed saving, but now I wonder what might have happened with my little experiment had he not interfered. Would you have given in to lust, or would you have fought against it and killed the man? I wonder…”
I stared with blank surprise. “You knew what happened in the red room?”
He jerked his chin at the screens behind me. “I see everything. Did Poe tell you it wasn’t your fault? That you were a victim?” Houdini shook his head. “Sensor drinks don’t remove free will. Deep down, you always have a choice. You know that, don’t you?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Then have a drink and see how much control you have.”
“They only reveal your deepest desires.” He stepped forward into my space. “You’re underestimating what I would want. Perhaps we should both have a drink.”
“Let’s not.”
The recessed lighting brought out the white in his hair. “What do you think might happen?”
“Don’t try to convince me that I wanted to screw some random guy.”
“Would it have been so terrible to give in to your desires with a total stranger?”
“They weren’t my desires. They were artificial.”
“Did it feel artificial when he spanked you and you moaned for more?”
The blood drained from my head. “You watched the whole thing? And chose to do nothing?”
“Like I said before, I see everything. And what would I have to gain from interfering?”
I slapped him hard. Then I did it again and my palm stung. Despite my sudden violent outburst, I managed to keep a cool and collected tone. “I’m not your experiment anymore. We have to play nice for the sake of this assignment, but if you ever meddle in my life again, so help me, I’ll put you in the ground.”
“Killing your maker is punishable by death. That will haunt you for the rest of your days.”
“I didn’t say I’d kill you. I only said I’d bury you.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Will you keep my key? Since we’re on the topic of meddling.”
“Why do you keep turning this back on me?”
Houdini strode to his desk and sat on it. “Because you’re desperate to blame me for all your woes. Had you followed my rule about drinking, you wouldn’t have put yourself in that predicament. I created an opportunity to expose your weakness. When others see your weaknesses, they use them against you. And if you keep turning to the bottle because you’re incapable of suppressing your emotions, you’ll make it easy for someone to take advantage of you. You’re not a woman who takes orders, so showing you was better than telling.”
“You’re really good, you know that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Christian warned me, but I didn’t want to see it. I still don’t want to see it. But there it is. You keep trying to make me believe that everything is my fault and you haven’t done anything wrong—that I’m just overreacting