Max 

The Vault was supposed to be my escape.

On the surface, it looked like any other upscale lounge—sleek décor, ambient lighting, and well-dressed clientele sipping overpriced drinks. But past the main bar was a different world entirely. An exclusive playground for consenting adults who had the means to afford discretion and the illicit desires that required it. 

The Vault had always been a place where I could unwind after a hectic week, have a few drinks with my business partners, and forget about work for a few hours. Levi, Noah, Jack, and I had built Platinum Properties into the kind of luxury brokerage that catered to San Diego’s wealthiest clientele. We’d earned our membership here, and then some. 

But tonight, relaxation was the last thing on my mind because my assistant, Vanessa Abbott, was on a goddamn stripper pole.

I sat in our usual spot in the lounge, my entire body coiled tight as I watched her move on one of the three poles occupied on the raised platform at the