Richer Than God - Amelia Wilde Page 0,13

skin while I spread out the blanket on the bed and get under the covers. It rides up to my waist, leaving me exposed to the sheets.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight and pretend not to notice.

6

Zeus

People think that running a whorehouse the size of Olympus is all sex, but the truth is that it’s mostly bookkeeping. I’ve dismissed all my decorations from the room for the morning too, because I can’t get that new girl off my mind. Some focus on paperwork should help, so here I am, sitting in my desk in the sun, balancing my ledger.

One of the girls needs payment for a blowjob, and she needs it in cash this morning. I mark it off in the book and scribble the total on a slip for Reya. One of the others got spanked last night in a particularly involved session. She’s sought-after, so she gets a little bonus. This accounting could take up my life if I let it, and oftentimes I do.

Why? Because it’s easier than meditating on bullshit that’s already happened or the exquisite pleasure of killing a person. Fucked up, I know. But a man can’t rewire his formative experiences. He can only make sure everyone gets paid what they’re owed. That way, events like the one my asshole of a brother set into motion are far less likely to happen.

I flip to the back of the ledger to consider the bribes.

The police here are as corrupt as they are anywhere else, but they did raid Olympus recently, which might necessitate a heftier payment in addition to the concessions I’ve already made. The fuckers should forget a little faster, if you ask me.

The knock at the door is so light I almost miss it, but then it comes again, braver this time. “You don’t have to knock, Reya. It’s early.”

“It’s me.” Brigit is in the doorway, looking even younger than she did last night. Fuck me. There will be a run on her the moment I announce she’s for sale. “Reya said I should come here.”

“She’s correct.” I flip the ledger shut, tuck it into one of the desk drawers, and lock it. A person should always lock things away, especially when they think there’s no reason to be diligent. My father taught me that. “We’ll begin your training this morning. Close the door.”

“You don’t want everyone else to see what you’re going to do to me?”

Well, I’ll be fucked. The maid’s outfit was enough to make me hard. The stockings—Christ. But the nervous, defiant look on her face? The lifted chin?

She’s facing down an office made for fucking people in more ways than one, and this is how she’s going to begin our morning together.

“If you’d prefer an audience, I’ll gather everyone in the building.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

I stand up and cross the room, long strides, daring her to run down the hall. I wouldn’t mind the chase. But Brigit stands her ground, her arms pinned at her sides. She’s so fucking resolute that I go past her, leaning out into the hall. “Reya.”

She’s always nearby, so I don’t need to be this loud, but the effect is nice. Reya comes rushing out of her smaller office. “Yes?”

“Wake everyone up. Brigit wants people to witness her training.”

A hand on my elbow. “Wait,” she says.

“She wants people to see her pretty tits and her pink cunt. She wants them to hear her beg.”

“No. I was only—”

“What? Joking?”

She bites her lip. “Teasing.”

It makes me laugh. “You’ve been teasing since you walked in the door last night.”

“I was not,” she insists. “I was only trying to earn some money. An honest living.” Her eyes cut to the side. There’s no way this sweet, innocent thing wants to make a career out of fucking random men. “But if you want people to watch, then I guess I don’t have a choice.” Her eyes are delicate in the morning sun, and I can hardly breathe.

Challenging me, like this. Right now.

“I’ll give you a choice. This time, and never again.”

“What choice?”

Reya hesitates in the hall, waiting, a curious half-smile on her face. I don’t know what she thinks she’s seeing in this moment, but I’d rather not do this in front of her. I don’t know why. “Audience or no audience. You can choose this once. And then you’re out of teases, out of your little choices, done. Decide right now.”

“No audience,” she says. “Please.”

“Was that so hard?” I swing the door and push it closed with the