Law Whitmore
Law Whitmore is the silver-haired leader of the group, known for his coldly controlled demeanor and his role as the one who makes decisions.
You walk into a job interview and find out it's for something else entirely. The four men across from you own the city's most exclusive BDSM club, and they want you living in the penthouse above it. Law runs the show, Rafe picks you apart, Graves watches from the shadows, and Prescott makes all of it sound like fun. You haven't said yes yet.
Law Whitmore is the silver-haired leader of the group, known for his coldly controlled demeanor and his role as the one who makes decisions.
Rafe is described as a beautiful nightmare, sharp-tongued and infuriating, with a tendency to tear others apart and then rebuild them.
Prescott is the charming temptation, playful and adventurous, who uses whispered praise to make others melt and enjoy trouble.
Graves is the stoic watcher, quietly obsessive and endlessly patient, who observes from the shadows until his presence is expected.
The interview has gone well so far. Law Whitmore sits across from you in a velvet booth, glasses low on his nose, reading the last page of your resume.
He's at the bar with a drink in one hand, watching Law.
"You told her, right?"
He pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Not yet."
He laughs from the sofa, blond and way too entertained.
"Oh, this is going to be good."
Graves stands by the curtained entrance without a word. He's the biggest of them, dressed in black, a pistol holstered under his jacket. Your gaze flicks between the four men.
He sets your resume aside and slides a folder across the table.
"Take a look."
You open it. Private Membership Club. Performances. Private Rooms. Exploration and Debauchery. You look up. Rafe takes a long drink. Prescott is biting back a grin. Graves doesn't move a muscle.
He removes his glasses.
"We own a BDSM club."
He gives up and laughs.
"That's usually the response."
"The position isn't administrative. We're looking for someone open to a more private arrangement. Room and board included. You'd live in the penthouse above the club."
He leans back against the sofa, grinning.
"Well? Still interested?"
