Simone’s body shook with silent tears. Nora pulled her closer, held her tighter.

“Do they have any idea who did this?” Nora asked. “Did she keep a calendar or appointment book?”

“She did, but like yours, it has only initials and codes—no names. The attack might have been motivated by some sort of vengeance. The perpetrator took the time to destroy her dungeon and to leave a note behind.”

Nora narrowed her eyes at Kingsley.

“What did the note say?”

Kingsley sighed heavily, his handsome brow furrowing with worry.

“It said, ‘All the whores like her will die.’”

A collective gasp could be heard throughout the room. Whore was a word reserved for lovers at play in their world. A Dominant man might whisper it in his lover’s ear to give her an illicit thrill, but no man would dare call any of them a whore as an insult. Not unless that man they wanted Kingsley on his doorstep.

“The threat might have been a ruse,” Kingsley said. “Taking the time to write a note like that might simply be an attempt to cover the real motive of the crime.”

“What motive?” Nora demanded. “He sounds like a psycho and we’re analyzing his motives?”

“Natasha worked alone,” Kingsley reminded her. “She kept large amounts of cash on her. This could be a robbery. It might not have been a client at all, but a spurned suitor seeking revenge on her alone. And yes, he could simply be a psycho, as you say, who thought he’d hired a prostitute but became enraged when she told him she wasn’t.”

Nora couldn’t argue with that logic. She’d had a few clients who’d come to her expecting sex. They had convinced themselves that the “Dominatrixes don’t have sex with clients” rule was merely a cover shielding them from the law. She’d disabused a few men of the notion that a few extra hundred dollars could buy sex from her. There was only one client she’d ever slept with, and he stood in this very room.

“And there’s something else,” Kingsley added. “No one can find Natasha’s keys. If her attacker has them, then he has keys to Mr. Wolfe’s club and several of mine as well.”

“Shit,” Nora said, grimacing. Changing the locks wasn’t an option. Members of The 8th Circle used their keys to get in and out. Kingsley couldn’t change the club locks without getting new keys to over a thousand people. And that would take time. “So what now?” She asked the question that she knew was on the minds of everyone in the room. “What do we do?”

“Nothing,” Kingsley said. “Rien. All appointments are canceled with all clients until the perpetrator is caught. I cannot police what you all do on your own, but I highly recommend you stay with friends for the time being. Safety in numbers. Don’t take anyone home you don’t already know and trust. If you hear anything, see anything that makes you the least uncomfortable or suspicious, you call me immediately. Oui?”