Daemon Racchio's Mansion Of Pleasure

g, the hotel wasn't exactly close to the city. It was more like a mansion than a

these clothes, even the taxi driver looked at me in amazement and I was emba

be like that, I would have to get used to it and stop feeling like a scared little mouse. I remembered Carl's wo

d always dreamed of. We went to a bar where she told me about a new job that seemed wonderful. From everything she told me, I never thought it w

, without asking any questions. Anyone knew that in that place you couldn't ask questions. I had w

entrance greete

honor of your presence?" he asked, as if

ese clothes didn't do me any favors. He kept looking at me. That made me embarrassed. Aga

yself. I pinched my arm di

ella. My name is Cady," I sa

lly, continuing his inspection

ith me." His voice

ace they had the manners of the time, as if they lived in a real castle. I smiled, remembering ev

e. Tell me, why do you wan

onfident person looks directly in the eyes. He had honey-colored eyes, with curly brown hair. He had a suspicious l

mely careful in t

smiling, looking him directly in the eye. I gestured to the surroundings. "When I learned that the people w

s innocent and endearing. He led me inside the castle. The gardens were impressive. The bushes were trimmed in a neat way,

a nest of mafia monsters. It was a facade, the beauty of the hotel, which was a

The guy leaned over to greet

id to myself, I was getting scandalized by anything. It's just that physical c

ery close to his mouth, so he would see that

he place, opening the door cordially. The entrance was just as impressive, the doo

small hall, which was just as luxurious. It must have been a waiting room, where I would wait for the woman to be free to conduct the job int

ted to shake. My God, I was so nervous. Anxiety took over me completely. I

the interview," the woman

was lashing out at me with force. I wondered what the hell had happened in there, the other

myself. I had to pretend, I had to fit i

reath. Don't be shocked, I told myself,

to the gleaming tiles. I raised my head, ready to be whatever I needed to be, to be

ook in her hands, sitting at a desk, asking me questions like in any job interview. That she would ju

ompletel

it's a pleasur

er. Stella was a young woman, in her thirties, with curly brown hair that hung long past her shoulders. Her skin

s just as she was born. With nothing

interview idea was that she was