Mathé A L'Espée stood outside the closed door of the dressing room, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. The sounds emanating from within were enough to make him want to tear the whole damn place down. But he couldn't.

He hated this part of his job, despised being forced to stand guard while one of Jaques' despicable patrons defiled the body that Mathé longed to worship himself. It burned him deep within, a searing ache that twisted his insides and made him clench his fists until his knuckles turned white.

But Mathé had learned long ago to control his emotions, to hide the turmoil raging beneath his stoic exterior. It was a necessary skill when working for Jaques, a man whose darkness knew no bounds. And so, Mathé waited, his jaw set with determination and his eyes focused on the door, waiting for the inevitable conclusion of this sickening transaction.

Finally, the muffled moans and grunts ceased, replaced by the creaking of the bed springs and the shuffling of feet. Mathé clenched his teeth together, his grip on the handle of the door tightening until it felt like it might snap. Then, as if time had slowed to a crawl, the door swung open and a man emerged. Mathé's gaze met the deputy's smug expression, his teeth gritting against the urge to unleash his fury upon him. With a curt nod, he stepped aside to let the deputy pass, his gaze never leaving him until he disappeared down the hallway.

With measured steps, Mathé entered the dimly lit room, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. The scent of perfume hung in the air, mingling with the lingering musk of the recent encounter. The sight of the singer lying on the bed, his body adorned in delicate lace lingerie that barely concealed his alluring curves, sent a surge of possessiveness coursing through Mathé's veins.

"Ma Perle," Mathé's voice rumbled lowly, filled with a mix of concern and adoration. He approached slowly, as if afraid the fragile creature before him might break under even the slightest touch.