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The women's steamy relationship is challenged.

She's removed her mask to address her guests.

"Can I have everyone's attention please? Thank you all so much for joining us on opening night. Liam will be arriving in a few minutes and waiters will be around with champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Afterwards, please feel free to explore. Your guest cards will give you access to most of what we have to offer. For more exclusive access, membership cards of various levels can be purchased. Thanks again, and enjoy!" And with that, Greta dons her mask again.

He is struck by her confidence - so different from the timid girl he saw the first time. That was a long time ago though. Now she owns this mysterious place. The queen of her own kinky castle.

His thoughts are interrupted when a drink is thrust into his hand and one of his dates suggests he tries some stuffed something-or-other. The two girls are babbling again - who's wearing what, who came with whom, blah, blah, blah. He's tired and the guest of honor hasn't even arrived yet. He scans the room for the mysterious former Mistress Phoenix. If only he could've seen that edition of her...

A rush of excitement brings him back and he stifles a yawn. Liam walks through the huge double doors and immediately smiles and shakes his head in amusement - a rare look for the stern businessman and harsh dominant. When he hooks his finger towards Greta, motioning for her to come down from her perch, the crowd chuckles.

Envy rushes through him as she descends the stairs gracefully, wishing she was coming to him. The room is quiet enough that he can hear her heels click while he becomes mesmerized by her thigh playing peek-a-boo through her dress.

"To Greta and to The Retreat," Liam toasts simply once she reaches him and they both have glasses. A chaste kiss on her cheek. They're so private now, a shame really.

Once the couple is attached at the hip, he loses interest. He has two lovely ladies to attend to. They haven't even noticed they've been neglected. The bubbly blond, Ella, smiles at him over the shoulder of a young gentleman who's twirling her around the dancefloor. Aleena hasn't strayed far. Her eyes narrow as she looks over her glass at him with an outstretched hand asking to dance. She tosses back the rest of her champagne and takes his hand somewhat reluctantly.

"When are we going to explore?" she purrs into his ear.

"With or without Ella?"

"Your choice. I like her. She's just a bit... energetic."

"She makes me feel old," he admits.

"Then let me make you feel young again." She nibbles on his ear for emphasis and the two leave the dancefloor for one of the dark corridors.

The lodge is richly decorated in dark, warm hues and intricate original woodwork. Rugs and paintings are all over, most depicting semi-nude subjects. Each solid wood door they pass is closed and labeled.

"I heard each one has a different theme," Aleena tells him. "And the deeper you go..." She stops at a door and smiles back at him.

MADAME TUSSAUDS CHAMBER OF HORRORS.

"Wax?" she asks hopefully.

"Makes sense."

"Well, try your card." It's the most excited she's sounded all night. The card reader shines green and the door clicks.

The room twinkles as if lit by hundreds of candles. The floor and furniture all appear to be rubbery and expertly protected by removable covers. There's no fabric, no pillows, nothing flammable, yet the room is soft and cozy... warm.

"I don't even know where to start..." he mutters in awe of the glass shelves lining the entire room - candles and containers of all shapes and sizes; brushes, feathers, ladles, and dripping tools; oils and massage stones. It's all illuminated by small flickering electric lights that bounce off the glass and mirrors around the dim room.

"I know where to start," she says as she slips out of her dress, laying it neatly on a bench by the door where she's already kicked off her shoes.

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