Isle of Sin: A Standalone Dark Romance

Is she there yet?

The text sprawled across my phone, disrupting my morning routine of reading current news reports from around the globe.

Yeah, I typed back. Just going through a final security check at the gate.

Bet she loves that was Tru’s reply.

I expected your message to be another rant from her, I admitted, my lips twitching at the sides. She’s already sent three.

Sounds like our baby sister. His words deepen my amusement. Darby hates when we rag on her for being the baby of the family. Give her a hug for me, Tru adds.

I’d invite you to join and give her one yourself, but I don’t really want you on my island, I replied, smirking as I imagined my older brother’s resulting expression from reading my message.

Worried I may run that isle of yours better than you, hmm? he taunted.

Worried you might try to turn it into a voyeuristic playground, I retorted.

Isn’t that what it is already?

I snorted. Only for those who want it. Which wasn’t many, considering the clientele I serviced at Sinners Isle.

All seven of my siblings had inherited a club after our father’s death. I’d taken the one out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Mostly because I preferred isolation and had a knack for keeping secrets. The elite of the world frequented my club because they enjoyed the anonymity my isle offered them.

Which was also why Darby had chosen to come here for her belated honeymoon with Yon and their now one-year-old son.

I’d made nanny arrangements for them for the week to ensure they had some private time, too.

Private time that I didn’t intend to be involved with whatsoever.

It was hard enough knowing my younger sister was into kink, just like the rest of us. I didn’t need to know what type or how far that kink went.

Which probably made me a hypocrite because I didn’t care at all about Truman’s preferences. Which was how I knew about his penchant for voyeurism and exhibitionism.

Most of my other siblings were pretty open about their likes and dislikes, too.

I supposed that came with the territory of owning a string of dungeons and sensual clubs around the globe.

My phone dinged again, this time with a message about another incoming arrival—Nathan Spencer and his guest, Adalyn Rose.

I didn’t typically greet my guests personally at the airport, but as I was already here to collect my sister, I opted to also make myself available for Mr. Spencer. His seven-year-old membership to Sinners Isle had placed him on a priority list, yet we’d never had the pleasure of meeting.

Mostly because Mr. Spencer had only visited twice during that period of time. Both times had occurred during one of my many trips to New York City to see Tru.

So this would be our first proper introduction.

I shot another text off to my brother with a promise to call him later, then slipped my phone into my pocket and stood.

There were only a few lingering employees at the private lounge inside the airport, all of them mine.

Because I owned this entire island.

It was arranged with water bungalows and huts along the shores, offering the privacy my clients craved.

With a variety of play areas set up throughout the island.

An erotic paradise that many celebrities and wealthy patrons fancied for their own lurid affairs. Discretion was the name of the game. And sex was our primary currency.

Our resort catered to every need and kink, and we took our security very seriously.

Hence the men outside scrutinizing the jet my sister had just flown in on.

You’re going to be an old man by the time I get off this jet, Gramps, she told me in a new message now. All gray and decrepit.

Already halfway there, Kid, I sent back to her, chuckling at the nicknames we’d given each other years ago. I was the second youngest in our family of eight, with her being the baby.

She was almost twenty-eight now.

And I was only a few months shy of turning thirty.

Making us less than two years apart.

Yet I was the old man.

I shook my head, chuckling to myself. I supposed that made our oldest brother, Damiano, positively ancient in comparison.

“Yep, totally gray,” my sister said as she burst through the loading door ahead of my personnel. They would be annoyed, but they wouldn’t dare comment. The Sinner children were infamous and very much in charge.

And Darby was no different, even as the youngest.

“Can you see me from all the way over there?” she asked, squinting at me. “I hear old age impacts vision and all that.”

“Maybe you should call Eli or Damiano and ask them about it,” I suggested, starting toward her. “They’re almost forty, right?”

“And you’re almost thirty,” she replied, visibly shuddering. “When did you and Tru get so old?”

I laughed and wrapped my arms around her in a hug while meeting the dark gaze of her husband over her head. “I have no idea how you put up with her full-time, Yon.”

He chuckled in response, his hands busy guiding the stroller before him. “I’ll have help soon once the little man starts growing up.”

Darby rolled her big brown eyes as she released me. “Cute.” The word seemed to be directed at both of us. At least until she added, “Let’s see if you get laid later.”

“Oh, I definitely will be,” Yon replied, a hint of his dominance underlying those words as he glanced down at the collar around Darby’s neck.

Her cheeks turned pink, her long eyelashes fanning downward as she gave him a demure look.

A look I really did not want or need to see on my sister’s face right now.

I cleared my throat. “I know you’re eager to start the honeymoon, but how about we wait until you reach your bungalow, yeah?”

Their son, Graham, chose that moment to coo, almost as though to say he agreed. Darby immediately turned toward him, fussing in a way our mom used to do over us as kids.

At least over me, Darby, and Tru.

We all shared the same biological mother and father, while our siblings had other mothers. Two, to be exact.

But it didn’t stop us from being close.

And while our father had been married three times, he hadn’t exactly been a bad dad or husband. He’d just liked variety and struggled with the concept of monogamy.

A trait some of us shared with him.

Others, like my sister, not so much.

However, we all enjoyed various levels of the lifestyle. Probably because of our father’s influence and the clubs he’d gifted us upon his death.

“Mister Sinner?” David’s voice came from behind me, causing me to turn toward him. “Your guests are deplaning.”

I nodded. “Can you escort my sister and her family to the car? I’ll join after I finish the introduction.”

David dipped his chin. “Of course, sir.”

Darby raised a brow at me. “Guests?”

My lips twitched. “Guests who prefer their anonymity, Kid. Follow David and I’ll be right out.”

She scoffed at that. “I’m part owner.”

“An owner of the London location who is on her honeymoon and not working,” I clarified for her. “Just let me handle this one thing, and I promise I’ll give you a proper tour after.”

Yon pressed his palm to her lower back, his opposite hand still on the stroller. “It’ll take us a few minutes to get everything situated anyway.”

Darby considered him for a moment and shrugged. “I’m on vacation.”

“You’re on vacation,” he echoed, giving me a knowing look as Darby’s focus shifted to little Graham again.

Thank you, I mouthed.

He dipped his chin slightly, then escorted my sister away from the airport lounge and through the exit with David leading the way.

I ran my fingers through my hair and fixed my tie, then blew out a long breath and waited for Mr. Spencer to arrive.

Unlike my sister, he didn’t barge through the loading doors, instead allowing my security to enter first. He stepped through the threshold with a stern expression, his demeanor all dominant male as he moved.

This was the kind of guy used to being the alpha in the room.

I’d allow it.

Even if it wasn’t accurate at all.

This island was mine, making me king of Sinners Isle. However, I could pretend to bow if it put my clients at ease. That ease made them easier to read.

And I prided myself on being able to understand the intentions of others.

It was what made me a good Dominant—the ability to understand body language and discern the less-than-obvious cues.

Cues like Mr. Spencer’s astute gaze and the sharp look he gave my security as he realized there were more of them in this room.

They were here to protect me, and Mr. Spencer knew it, too.

His focus turned to me as he openly debated my trustworthiness and evaluated my worth.

I didn’t let the scrutiny bother me. I merely stood in the center of the room and waited for him to approach.

Because this wasn’t a typical hotel operation. I had a general manager who oversaw the accommodations, while I maintained the entire operation.

That distinction provided me with a very different role in this relationship.

Because in my world, the customer was not always right.

I decided who maintained membership here and who did not.

Thus giving me an air of superiority in this situation.

However, I affected a casual front, allowing Mr. Spencer to feel like he owned the room. That lie caused his lips to curl a little, his overconfidence leaving a hint of distaste in my mouth.

A distaste that worsened as a female with dark hair stepped into view behind him.

She kept her eyes on the ground, exuding the picture of perfect submission.

Which would have been fine if we were in the club or in an open play area, not in the middle of an airport lobby. That posture alone told me a lot about Mr. Spencer’s dynamic with Adalyn Rose—Master and slave.

Except she didn’t wear a collar around her neck.

Nor did she appear to have any other markings on her that denoted her as owned.

Her heels clicked lightly against the tiles, her legs long and athletic like a dancer, moving gracefully with every step.

A gorgeous woman.

With a body built for sin.

Yet those lowered eyes grated at my instincts. Something felt wrong with her submission, almost as though it was forced rather than readily given.

A strange inkling, one that had me looking at Mr. Spencer again.

He’d caught my perusal—something that seemed to amuse him more than anger him.

He must be into sharing, I thought, recalling some of his requests for his visit. A private bungalow—a standard requirement. But with an open entertaining area.

Because he intended to have friends stop by to visit his sub.

How do you feel about that, little one? I wondered, glancing at her again. Do you like to be shared?

Her dark irises lifted as though she’d heard me, her cheeks darkening to a pretty ruby shade as she found me openly evaluating her.

A hint of defiance crossed her features, causing her nostrils to flare.

And then she was staring at the floor again.

Just as Mr. Spencer glanced back at her.

Almost like she’d known to expect his look.

An odd dynamic, I decided, making a mental note to keep an eye on Mr. Spencer and his activities.

There were very few rules at Sinners Isle, as I preferred to allow my patrons to set their own limits. But consent sat at the top of the list in terms of items I would not negotiate on.

Safewords were paramount. While the word “no” could often be heard from various areas of my island, it was always moaned in a way that actually meant “more.” And that was absolutely tolerated, if not expected, here.

But consent still mattered.

“Mr. Sinner,” Mr. Spencer said, holding out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“My father was Mr. Sinner,” I replied, accepting his palm. “Please call me Asher.”

“Of course.” He tightened his grip just a little, exerting his dominance. I didn’t react, just shook his hand and released him.

“I don’t often greet my guests, but I saw you were flying in today and thought it would be good to finally introduce myself,” I told him, making sure he understood that this wasn’t typical and that I’d given him special attention.

It served as an ego stroke.

And also a warning.

Because now that I’d seen his little sub, I would be watching him.

My senses told me something just wasn’t right here, and I’d learned long ago to never ignore my instincts.

However, I hid that inclination now with a smile. “Your accommodations are ready, and your driver will take you directly to your bungalow. Then Cassandra will be by in an hour to discuss your meal preferences for the week.” Each guest was given their own private chef, as well as a housekeeper, for their stay. Of course, my staff didn’t reside in the bungalow with them. They had their own lavish apartments elsewhere.

And they were invited to play as the mood struck them.

An employee perk.

One I sometimes indulged in myself.

With females like Adalyn Rose, I thought, glancing at her again. Beautiful brunette with curves in all the right places. Absolutely my type.

Except for that hint of wrongness.

Hmm.

I refocused on Mr. Spencer. “I’ll be around for the week as well. My private line is in your welcome materials. If you need anything at all, please let me know directly and I’ll see to it personally.”

“Thank you. I actually may need to take advantage of that offer sooner rather than later.”

“Oh?” I raised a brow, genuinely intrigued. His concierge should have handled any and all preliminary requests. “Was something missed in your initial booking?”

“No, I’ve just had a few colleagues inform me that they are planning some spontaneous visits to the island this week. I’d like to organize a gathering, if possible.”

“In a play area?” I guessed aloud while mentally making a note to check on these “colleagues” he was expecting this week. I had a list of all anticipated arrivals and their known associations. I would have to check them against Mr. Spencer’s dossier.

He nodded. “Yes, and I will have a list of necessary instruments.”

Adalyn flinched with the words, the movement barely perceptible but there. And it wasn’t the kind of flinch that told me she was excited by the prospect of his request. “I see,” I said, in reference to both her grimace and his statement. “I’ll see what I can do.”

And I’ll absolutely be watching you, I added in my mind.

“I assume this will be a private affair for just you and your colleagues?” I guessed, still holding his gaze while observing Adalyn’s reactions from the corner of my eye.

“Yes, but there may be others I’ll invite along the way,” he replied, his tone and expression suggesting that I might be on that list if I played my cards right.

However, his statement elicited another wince from Adalyn.

So you don’t like to be shared, I thought at her. Do you even want to be here, little one?

I cleared my throat, my lips curling into a practiced grin. “If you provide me with your list, I’ll oversee your arrangements personally.” Because something is very wrong here and I don’t allow this type of fuckery on my island.

“Excellent,” Mr. Spencer replied. “I look forward to getting to know you better then, Asher.”

“Likewise, Mr. Spencer,” I said, meaning it.

“Nate,” he corrected. “Since we’re on a first-name basis now.”

“Of course.” I purposely used his term from earlier and gave him another smile. “Well, I’ll show you to your transport, then, and perhaps we can arrange to have breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“I would like that.”

“Me, too,” I said, glancing at Adalyn. “She’s welcome to attend if you wish to bring her.”

His smile turned lecherous, the look sending a chill down my spine. “I just may do that.”

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, then quickly relaxed.

But it was enough to tell me she very much did not want to join us for breakfast.

Which meant that if he brought her, she was absolutely not being looked after properly. Because a good Master would ensure his slave’s comfort, even if he preferred sadism and darker games.

“This way.” I gestured toward the exit, leading them both out while considering how to approach tomorrow morning’s meeting.

I would need to have Clive and Bryant there for security purposes, just in case I chose to physically remove Nathan Spencer from my island.

Adalyn would be another matter entirely.

I nearly cursed because a broken sub was not what I wanted to deal with right now. But the task came with owning the territory. Fortunately, I’d just not had to deal with this sort of thing often. Most of my clients weren’t stupid enough to show up here with a non-consenting partner.

Oscar, one of my drivers, stood just outside by one of the luxury cars, awaiting Nathan and Adalyn. I walked them both right to him and turned to shake Nathan’s hand again. He didn’t try to squeeze this time, likely because he’d already decided he was the bigger man in the room. Or perhaps he intended to use Adalyn to tame me, as he’d likely taken my frequent glances her way as sexual interest, not genuine concern.

“I’ll have Cassandra provide you with details for breakfast,” I told him.

“Or we can have breakfast in my bungalow,” he offered, saying the words like he owned the property and not me.

I considered him for a moment, debating locations before glancing at Adalyn once more. “I think I would like that.” Because it just proved that he didn’t care at all about her comfort or he’d notice the way her shoulders tensed now at my acceptance of his insinuated proposition—breakfast with a side of fucking in his bungalow.

“Nine o’clock?” he asked.

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, releasing his hand before my instinct to rip his arm off took over.

Maybe I was reading Adalyn’s discomfort the wrong way.

But she certainly appeared ready to break right now with how rigidly she held her spine.

However, Nathan opened the door for her and gently helped her into the car, his soft touch belying the way he’d just put her body on offer.

I’d have to observe them a bit more to determine the truth of this situation.

Which I’d do over breakfast.

“Enjoy your afternoon and evening,” I told Nathan as he slid into the car.

“Oh, I intend to.” He wrapped his arm around Adalyn, but the door closed before I could see her reaction.

Oscar immediately moved around the car to take the driver’s seat. I only watched for a beat before turning toward the car waiting for me behind them.

Fortunately, Darby and Yon were already in the back seat. Otherwise, I suspected my sister would have a few questions. She knew me better than most people did, and she’d absolutely be able to pick up on my concern, even while I hid it behind a professional mask of indifference.

Thankfully, I intended to sit in the front passenger seat.

Which meant she wouldn’t be able to see my face for another ten minutes or so.

By the time we arrived at her bungalow, I’d have my emotions under control and she wouldn’t have a clue as to what nagged at me.

This wasn’t her Sinner location to manage; it was mine. And she deserved to enjoy this honeymoon. So I’d ensure she did while I handled the Nate and Adalyn situation quietly.

Just another day in the life of being a Sinner sibling.

By this time tomorrow, it’d be dealt with and done.

Until then, I’d relax. Show my sister and Yon around. Introduce them to their babysitter. And wish them well on their honeymoon.