Prologue

London

Life had turned surreal. Sitting in the luxury of Diana’s chauffeur-driven limo, Tori watched the night lights of London speeding by but saw only a blur. On her way to a posh sex club, the guest of one of London’s reigning society queens, her racing thoughts swirled and blurred with equal speed.

She clutched her long trench coat tightly around her body to conceal the too-short black dress Diana had insisted would be considered conservative at Club Exotica. Her dear friend’s micro-mini served as proof that Tori’s attire was demure in comparison.

If word ever got out, it could destroy her career. But Diana had been right—the place was a ghost. No record of it existed on the internet or anywhere that Tori could find. And she had access to very good resources.

She huffed, a quiet little snort of dismay. What the hell was she doing?

She was out of her mind to even think about setting one foot inside a place like that. She was a respected judge in Her Majesty’s Royal Courts of Justice. And she was on her way to London’s most exclusive, secret, no-holds-barred sex club!