I stand admiring the finished bar and lounge area from my viewpoint on the stairs with a huge surge of pride swelling inside of me, walking to the deep sunken area and turn in a full circle taking in all the newly designed and staged areas around me. The whole club looks amazing and the black and gold palette with greys and subtle whites make it not only luxurious and nightclub feely but there’s a hint of sexy in all the fixtures and fittings. Low ceilings, soft lighting and plush upholstery.
This refurb has come in at over a million in costs from what I have been able to count and the whole place is dazzling and sensual.
Exactly the kind of club I would have put together if it was mine and I simply adore it. It screams of class yet has a sinister edge that is completely sexy—weirdly the same way I would describe Alexi.
A long granite topped black bar curving around a central pillared wall of bottles in a half arc to one side, overlooking the large couch edged room and little nooks of glamorous privacy. The hall now leads to fifteen little themed boudoirs—one for every taste, and that has been repeated upstairs with matching rooms and ten more.
We have two community areas, the second floor is our private V.I.P. area with its own bar and I literally cannot love my surroundings any more than I do.
I was all about the fine details and little touches while Alexi was focused on the bigger picture and the whole feel of what he wanted. We came together and dare I say it, made a great little design team. One thing about Carrero is that we have similar tastes in decor and it is one area we never argued at all. I even love his bachelor pad upstairs and the progress meetings we had were almost enjoyable. We can be a good duo when we have a similar goal to focus on; when we stop bickering to just work.
Alexi has built himself a very upper-class whore house and already he has members queuing up at the doors to sample the Carrero hospitality. He has located a paid dating agency going into liquidation, and he’s slowly procuring the escorts on their books onto his own. Being selective and picking them based on kink and class. He knows what he wants, and he has swooped in and taken control of all aspects of that area, of which I am thankful.
I spent enough of my life elbow deep in sordid, and it’s nice to hand it over to someone more capable of taking it in his stride.
‘‘Club Carrero.’’ My nickname for this little endeavour that he finally stuck with, is looking completely divine. I have goosebumps for our opening tonight, and already the staff are bustling round stocking the bar and ice coolers, polishing glasses and making everything ready for show time.
I’m just admiring all our hard work and dedication with one last scrutinising walkthrough. The old bar staff have all been fired, they were incompetent anyway and now we have hired cocktail skilled bartenders and servers. Uniforms are unusually modest, considering the aim of this place. The non-sexual staff are all in black tie and waistcoats—trousers for the men and knee-length skirts for the women and a ‘’hands off’’ policy on anyone that isn’t contracted to give out favours.
We have distinct differences in the requirements of our staff. Just the way Alexi wanted it.
Product will be distributed by Alexi’s men; a perk of being a member and all cash paid via membership, so it’s an open bar with all kinks on the house. You pay to be a part of it and everything else is free. He’s charging a ton and more for his powerful associates to get their nose in the door, and with twenty-five members a night only list, it can be controlled. They must book a month in advance for the nights they want and his list is already into the hundreds. He is making them pay through the nose for both the pleasure of what he offers and the chance to rub shoulders with people they might not normally come across any other way.
Men like him love to play, but they always like to have an angle and make connections that serve them well. He has it all tied up in the perfect package under one roof. Men doing what makes them happy—kicking back with other men while a flow of booze and cocaine keeps them perked and relaxed and women suck and fuck them to their heart's content. Raw and primal. Alexi knows what works.
The waiting list is piling up from his contacts but his idea of one member for each room means no one will ever have to wait to get served. Each room is tailored to a variety of specs and tastes and women or men chosen accordingly. A member is awarded a card when they arrive, which gives access to the themed room of their choosing. That means every night, twenty-five rooms are suited to twenty-five guests and it keeps everyone happy.
It’s a brain ache planning out the guest lists to never overlap what they desire, a bit like pre-booking a table at a restaurant that serves a specific diet. This club is where business and crime meet; everything looks and feels above board. Proper employee contracts, and measures to keep things safe and regulated. Despite the fact he sells sex and drugs under this roof!
He doesn’t care how sordid a request a member has if his woman or man is consensual and safe words are used without complaint. Every client has a non-disclosure clause in their sign up and the staff all have them too; nothing can go outside of these walls unless Alexi has a need for it too and getting in is like breaking into a fortress, what with the new triple entry system and lines of black suited men wandering around all night. They’re all armed, easy to spot and terrifyingly huge with wireless headphones and mics on full show.
Carrero’s infamous ‘Men in black’.
‘‘You must be Camilla?’’ A voice much like Alexi’s snaps me out of my obsessive detail checking and I turn in surprise at a tall dark stranger that could almost be him, standing in front of me suddenly. Looming over me in a very spooky moment of ‘‘I must be seeing things.’’
I do a double take, inhaling sharply and mighty confused with the doppelganger that is most definitely NOT Alexi.
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