Chapter 28: Royal Flush

The lights of Singapore glowed beneath Purdey as she surveyed the cityscape from Ravi’s penthouse suite, a tapestry of neon and starlight stretching to the horizon. Skyscrapers punctured the night sky like gleaming needles, their windows forming constellations of human activity against the darkness. The club opening had exceeded expectations—minimalist design accentuated by strategic lighting, every angle calculated to create both intimacy and spectacle. Warm amber spotlights cast geometric shadows across polished concrete floors, while recessed blue LEDs transformed ordinary corners into azure sanctuaries. Twelve months of sleepless nights, endless supplier negotiations, and countless design revisions had culminated in this triumph. Her vision, once merely sketches and mood boards, now breathed with life and energy below. She could still feel the phantom ache in her shoulders from hunching over blueprints, the remembered strain of talking contractors through each precise detail. Perfect execution of perfect planning—exactly as she had imagined during those early concept meetings when others had doubted the ambitious scope.

“Your work impresses them,” Ravi said, appearing beside her. His cologne mixed with the night air—sandalwood and something sharper. “The Qatari delegation specifically requested to meet the architect that designed all of this.”

“Professional curiosity?” Purdey asked, watching reflections dance across the glass wall.

“Among other interests. As per the contract we signed thirteen months ago in your Melbourne office.” He paused, letting the weight of that day settle between them. “$50,000 per client. You remember the terms, don’t you? The ones you had your solicitor draft on that ivory cardstock.”

His eyes assessed her. The black dress clung to her figure with sophisticated elegance, something Princess Diana might have worn to a gallery opening, yet moulded to her body with revealing intimacy. The thin material did little to conceal her nipples, visible beneath the fabric as she shifted her weight. Her legs were bare, ending in leather strapped heels that lengthened her calves.

“This client, however, operates outside standard compensation. They prefer other currencies. Opportunities. Access.” He tilted his head. “They rarely extend such invitations. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of people who’ve received them in the past decade.”

“And you’re offering me one.”

I’m reminding you what you agreed to when you signed that contract. What you committed to providing.”

I haven’t forgotten,” Purdey said walking elegantly through the club main floor. The dim lighting caught the curves of her silhouette as she moved between clustered leather sofas and polished mahogany tables. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting prismatic shadows across the exclusive space where the city’s elite gathered in hushed conversations. She could feel male and female gazes upon her alike, she revelled in it. The weight of their attention felt like a familiar cloak she had once discarded but now wore with pride.

She had changed immensely over the past year, transformed really. Taking on Ravi’s clients had proven extraordinarily lucrative—she’d made more money than she could ever spend. The gifts from these clients were no slouch either: designer dresses, shoes, bags, anything she desired they bought for a chance to spend a night with her. Her bedroom had become a revolving showcase of luxury brands, closets overflowing with treasures she sometimes forgot she owned. Her OnlyFans collaborations with major porn stars had elevated her profile, and she’d even starred in a feature film where critics praised her acting skills and authenticity. Through it all, she maintained the allure of her mask.

Her old self from her university days was back with a vengeance—confident, bold, uncompromising—but she was wiser now, with more capital, more at stake. Gone was the timid woman who had shrunk herself to fit into the role of perfect wife, the one who had carefully arranged herself around Ian’s expectations, becoming a shadow in her own life. That Purdey had been so concerned with appearances, with being appropriate. This Purdey, the real Purdey, understood that power came from embracing who she truly was.

She hardly saw her children these days, a fleeting presence in their lives as she chased her resurgent career. Ian and Nadine handled most of the day-to-day care while she explored her reclaimed identity. A twinge of guilt occasionally surfaced, quickly suppressed beneath the intoxication of her newfound freedom. Speaking of Nadine, she needed to buy that designer dress the woman had been eyeing, to go with the Louboutins she’d promised. Small tokens of appreciation for holding together the home life she’d partially abandoned. The thrill of reclaiming herself surged through her veins as she navigated the crowded room, each step a declaration of her resurrection, each click of her heels on the polished floor a reminder of how far she’d come from the suburban prison she’d built for herself.

Beyond the main club floor, past biometric scanners and private elevators, lay spaces she’d designed for specific purposes—rooms where discretion was architectural. Where observation points were camouflaged within seemingly solid walls, where lighting could transform from clinical brightness to shadowed obscurity.

“The Sultan wishes to see a demonstration,” Ravi continued, voice measured. “Of certain facilities.”

Purdey nodded and pulled the mask from her clutch and put it on. Two years ago, such a proposition might have shocked her. Now it merely presented variables to calculate.

The hidden room hummed with expectation. Five men—selected for their physiques and discretion—waited as Purdey entered. Beyond a one-way glass partition, four princes and the sultan watched from plush velvet chairs.

“The demonstration begins when you’re ready,” one attendant murmured before withdrawing.

Purdey surveyed the men—muscular, oiled bodies positioned precisely as she’d instructed. Each man displayed unique physical qualities—the first tall and broad-shouldered with powerful thighs, the second more compact with a swimmer’s build, the third dark-skinned with arms like sculpted marble. The fourth and fifth complemented each other—one with the lean density of a climber, the other with the massive chest and shoulders of a weightlifter. She’d designed this space with mathematical precision—acoustics that carried every sound, lighting that eliminated shadows, angles that showcased every interaction.

She removed her Princess Diana-inspired dress with practiced efficiency, the tight fabric gliding over her skin to reveal the physique she’d sculpted through relentless exercise routines. The princes leaned forward in their chairs, eyes widening at the sight of her defined arms, the sculpted contours across her abdomen, the power evident in her thighs. Her breasts, subtly enhanced and given a natural buoyancy through cosmetic surgery performed by a renowned specialist, completed her transformation.

Behind the glass, the princes adjusted their positions uncomfortably. The eldest—substantial in build with an imposing presence—loosened his traditional garments, his breathing becoming labored as he watched intently. The second prince, lanky and sinewy, discreetly slipped his hand beneath his robes, his gaze fixed unwavering on her naked form. The third brother, compact yet muscular, displayed less restraint—he unfastened his belt entirely, exposing himself within his brothers’ peripheral vision as he began pleasuring his impressively endowed member. The youngest, lithe and athletic, mimicked the behavior, his balanced proportions harmonizing with his graceful build.

“Magnificent,” the Sultan murmured, noticing but not commenting on his nephews’ activities.

Purdey moved toward the men with newfound confidence, muscles shifting beneath her skin. The woman who’d once hesitated now initiated without pause, her commands clear and direct. The men responded immediately, arranging themselves around her in the configuration she specified.

“Notice how she controls them,” the Sultan whispered to his companions. “The power balance—unexpected but compelling.”