Page 31 of Anton's Grace
With a spring in my steps, I strutted by Anton’s side, clinging to his arm as we entered Risqué. I wore a collar but no leash. Tonight, Anton hadn’t brought a pet, but a companion, and he was flaunting me, left, right and center. His hand never left me, whether resting on my waist, my hip or the small of my back. I loved its possessiveness, the way it said to the whole world ‘she’s with me, she’s mine.’ Although I knew it was huge bragging rights for Braxians to show off that they owned an obedient human woman, I didn’t care. Whatever Anton’s motives, he liked showing me off and I loved to be.
We stopped at many tables on the way to our own, the patrons standing to pay Anton respect. And every time, he introduced me as his companion, Grace. It made me warm all over. The crowning moment was when Caleb showed up with Sheila trailing behind while one of the patrons’ wife oohed and aahed at my dress. I loved being the center of attention with all eyes on me; the woman’s admiration, Anton’s pride and Sheila’s burning jealousy. All my happy places tingled with pleasure.
I pressed myself closer to Anton’s side, returning Sheila’s venomous glare. His hold tightened on my waist, as if in approval. A quick look at his face and the small smirk at the edge of his lips told me he knew exactly what silent war waged between Sheila and me. I suddenly wondered how he felt about my possessiveness towards him. I belonged to him, not the other way around. Yet, for the duration of our contract, I couldn’t help but consider him mine. After the usual greetings, Anton informed Caleb they would speak later, then with a nod to Sheila, he escorted me to our table.
We sat at the same elevated booth as before. It exposed the entire restaurant to us while providing a perfect view of the stage. The best part was watching Sheila settle at a standard table at ground level below us. Her relationship with Caleb confused me. It wasn’t uncommon for venue owners to sleep with their performers. Yet, Caleb wasn’t known for doing so. If the rumors were true, it made sense. The performers at Risqué were too high profile to deface in edge-play. But since Sheila started performing here, I often saw Caleb and her together as a couple, though also with other people. Maybe they enjoyed an open relationship.
Once again, Anton ordered for the both of us then patiently described his selection to me afterwards. I recognized some of the dishes. Soon, I’d feel confident enough to order on my own. That’s one thing I liked about Anton. He didn’t mind explaining things to me. It made me itch to learn more. I had missed that.
We enjoyed the wonderful meal while making small talk. I had never seen him so relaxed. The evening was shaping up to be the most amazing time we’d had.
“So why did you stop at seven space stations? Did you always intend to have seven Hives?” I asked, before taking a sip of wine to wash down the spiciness of the stewed vegetables in a curry sauce.
Anton pushed back his plate and leaned against the cushioned leather seat.
“Seven was always the plan. I just built them sooner than expected,” he said, unable to hide the pride in his voice.
“Why not build more then? I mean, clearly, they’re all a huge success,” I said waving at the room.
“Because that would hurt my business more down the road.” At my confused look, he continued, “Each Hive is strategically located to serve a specific sector. Because there are so few, the business owners bid high to win any space that becomes available. That, in turn, ensures they provide quality services to attract the type of clientele that can keep their businesses flourishing.”
“So… you’re creating rarity to keep the prices up?” I asked, still a little confused.
“In a way, but that’s just part of the reason. With rarity, I get quality, but above all, I avoid flooding the market so the Hives don’t start cannibalizing each other.”
“How?”
Anton lifted his hand and absentmindedly fiddled with the small hair at the nape of my neck. “Ever been to Callan Fall?”
I nodded, leaning into his touch. “That’s where I had my second feature show.”
It was a miracle that poor excuse for a pleasure barge hadn’t caved in on itself. The space station was riddled with rust, leaks and every type of pest imaginable. Mercenaries, mine workers, and small-time traders constituted the bulk of the clientele. It was a third of the size of Venus Hive.
“Have you noticed how many brothels and bars they have?”
I snorted. “More than half the station is brothels and bars.”
“Remember how often they shut down before a new owner opened another one?”
Yeah, I remembered. There was a closure every other week, followed by a big reopening. Most establishments lasted a couple of months, six at best. Only a handful managed to last longer, but they offered highly exotic – meaning sick and deranged – services.
“All the time,” I said, nodding.
“That’s what happens when you have too many similar businesses competing for the same pool of customers. Everyone makes a small share, but not enough to keep them afloat. That’s why I regulate the number of businesses of a similar type on each Hive.”
“Why do you care though? As long as you have people paying rent, whether they succeed or fail shouldn’t matter to you, right?”
He smiled, his hand sliding from my nape to my shoulder, where his thumb followed the line of my clavicle back and forth. The caress distracted me, but I wanted to remain focused.
“It matters because their success increases mine. The more money they make, the better services they can provide, the more refined the clientele they attract. I only rent half the space on each Hive. All other establishments belong to me, including some entertainment venues, every single hotel, food market and power, among others.”
“You’re crazy smart,” I said, impressed.
“And you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
My jaw dropped at the unexpected compliment. Was he mocking me?
“Right. I can’t even order my own meal,” I said, trying to hide my discomfort with self-derision.