Chapter 114: The Golden Trap

“Aria, this dress is way too exposed for what I like.”

Emily’s voice was shaking. She held the fabric up against her body, looking at herself in the massive mirror of the restroom. The dress Aria had handed her from the package wasn't a uniform. It wasn't a disguise to make her invisible. It was a spotlight woven into gold thread.

The golden dress Aria gave to Emily was exactly how she wanted it to be because definitely Ethan might suspect Emily as the maid he saw around his father's study room covering up Aria, that was the reason she instructed the guard to come along with the dress.

If Emily dressed like a shadow, Ethan would look for a shadow. But if she dressed like a star, blinded by gold and skin, Ethan would never look at her face. He would never see the mousey maid he had glimpsed months ago. He would only see a confident, rich woman attending a gala.

It was a dangerous gamble, but it was the only card Aria had left to play.

The dress was a shimmering, liquid gold. It had a neckline that plunged deep, revealing her cleavage in a way Emily had never dared to show before. It was backless, held together by thin, delicate straps that looked like they could snap at any moment. And the slit... the slit was the most terrifying part. It started at the floor and didn't stop until it almost reached the pant area just like Aria's. One wrong move, one wide step, and Emily would be exposed to the world. Her legs were bare exposed and inviting as she stared at the beauty staring at her.

“It’s not about what you like, Emily,” Aria said, her voice tight. She was leaning against the marble sink, her arms crossed over her chest. “It’s about survival.”

“But Aria,” Emily stammered, turning to look at her friend. “I look like… I look like I’m selling something. I can’t walk out there like this. Ethan will see me. Everyone will see me. I will be a centre of attraction.”

“Do you want Ethan Malcovich to suspect you?” Aria said almost like she was losing patience because Ethan might get worried and start looking for her. She checked her wristwatch. Every second they wasted in this bathroom was a second closer to Ethan coming to find her.

Aria walked over to Emily, grabbing the gold dress and pressing it firmly into Emily’s hands. “Listen to me. Ethan saw a maid. He saw a girl in a black dress trying to hide her face from him. He didn't see a woman in gold. He didn't see a woman showing off her body. If you walk out there looking like you own the place, looking like you have nothing to hide, his brain won't make the connection. It’s psychology, Emily. You have to hide in the light.”

Emily swallowed hard. She looked at the dress, then at Aria’s desperate eyes. She took a deep breath.

“Okay Aria, I trust you but….. what about Marcus?” Emily asked while she started pulling off her black dress she wore before. The silk pooled at her feet, leaving her in her underwear. She felt vulnerable, exposed in the cold air of the restroom. “Marcus looked at us weirdly. Does he know I’m changing? Did he send this?”

Aria didn't answer immediately. She turned away, walking toward the sinks. She needed a moment. She needed a vice. She opened her small silver purse and pulled out the pack of cigarettes she had stashed there, as she mumbled a word, “just like the first day with Ethan”.

The lighter clicked, a sharp sound in the quiet room. The flame flared up, illuminating Aria’s tired face. She took a long drag, holding the smoke in her lungs before exhaling a thin grey stream toward the ceiling. The smell of tobacco mixed with the expensive floral perfume of the restroom, creating a scent that smelled like trouble.

Emily stopped pulling the gold dress up her hips. She looked at Aria, surprised. Aria was the disciplined one. Aria was the one who followed the rules Marcus gives even though she defaulted once.

Emily looked at her carefully saying “Are you tense?”

Emily asked because she knew Aria doesn't smoke unless she was under pressure. Real pressure. The kind of pressure that comes before a bomb goes off.

Aria took another drag, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. She looked perfect on the outside, but inside she was screaming.

“Too much noise and drama from the rich dudes,” she laughed, but the laugh didn't reach her eyes. It was hollow. “Just nerves, Em. You know how Norman Malcovich is. He looks at you like you’re a piece of steak. I just need to calm my nerves before I go play the loving fiancée and the loyal project manager.”

She had one last dragged and dropped the cigarette in the basin inside the restroom. The water hissed as it extinguished the cherry. Aria turned on the tap, washing the ash away, scrubbing the smell off her fingers.

She reached into her purse again. As she pulled out a small perfume with a million scents and sprayed it on her body. It was a heavy, musky scent, designed to mask the smoke, but also designed to allure. It was a scent for Norman.

“Hope you're good Aria,” Emily said as she straightened up her gown in a way that she was ready.

Emily stepped back. The transformation was shocking. The black dress on the floor looked like a shadow she had shed. In the gold dress, Emily looked different. She looked taller. The gold fabric hugged her waist and flared at her hips. The slit revealed a long, toned leg. She looked dangerous. She looked like she belonged in the Malcovich world.

Aria smiled, a sad, proud smile. “Yes I'm ready Emily...”

Aria walked over to her. She fixed a strap on Emily’s shoulder, brushing a stray hair from her face. This felt like a goodbye. Aria was sending Emily away to safety, while she walked willingly into the lion's den.

“Emily, now take the back door and follow the narrow hallway for you to enter the party room,” Aria instructed, her voice low and serious. “The VIP is very far away from there. There you wouldn't have to bump into Ethan. He will be with his father in the dark section. You stick to the main floor. Mix with the crowd. Drink champagne. Laugh loud. Be visible, but stay away from the shadows.”

“I will be with you shortly after meeting up with the big fish,” Aria said as she smiled.

It was a lie. Aria didn't know when she would be back. She didn't know what Marcus and Norman had planned for her in that VIP section. But she couldn't let Emily worry.

Emily smiled back. She didn't know the darkness awaiting Aria. She just thought it was another social game. She leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek and left immediately.

“Be careful, Aria,” Emily whispered.

“You too. You look like a million dollars,” Aria replied.

Emily took a deep breath, grabbed her clutch, and turned toward the back door of the restroom. It was a service exit, usually reserved for staff, but tonight it was her escape route.

Aria watched the door swing shut behind her friend. The silence rushed back into the room. Aria stood there for a second, alone. Then she turned to the mirror, applied a fresh coat of blood-red lipstick, and prepared to sell her soul.

Emily stepped out of the restroom and into the corridor.

The air here was different. It was cooler, draftier. The walls weren't covered in gold leaf and silk like the main hall. They were painted a dull, industrial beige. The floor wasn't marble; it was polished concrete.

This was the guts of the building. The narrow hallway stretched out in front of her, dimly lit by fluorescent strips that buzzed overhead. It smelled of cleaning supplies and old dust.

Emily walked fast. Her heels clicked loudly on the hard floor. Click-clack, click-clack. The sound echoed, making her feel like she was being followed. She pulled the gold dress tighter around her body. It felt flimsy in the cold hallway. She felt naked.

Aria had said to follow the narrow hallway to the main party room. It seemed simple enough. Just a straight line.

She walked past a row of closed doors. Staff Room. Electrical. Storage.

She could hear the muffled thump of the music from the gala. It was getting louder with every step. That was a good sign. It meant she was getting closer to the crowd, closer to safety. Being alone in this hallway made her skin crawl.

She imagined Ethan’s face. The way he had looked at her earlier. The confusion. The recognition. If she walked out there now, in this gold dress, would he really not see her? Or would the gold just draw his eye quicker?

Trust Aria, she told herself. Aria knows this game better than anyone.

She reached the end of the hallway. There was a set of double doors ahead. She could hear the roar of laughter and the clinking of glasses on the other side. She fixed her hair, put a smile on her face, and pushed the doors open.

She stepped into a trap.

Two hefty bodyguards double crossed her which made her panic.

They were huge. They weren't the regular venue security in blue blazers. These men were wearing expensive black suits that strained against their massive shoulders. They wore earpieces. Their faces were stone cold, devoid of any emotion. They looked like walls made of flesh and bone.

They stepped in front of her, blocking her path completely. They were so close she could smell their cologne—sharp, metallic, and aggressive.

Emily stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart leaped into her throat.

“Excuse me, you're blocking my part,” Emily asked, her voice sounding small and pathetic compared to the size of these men. She tried to step to the left, to go around them.

But the bodyguards didn't move. They shifted in unison, mirroring her movement. They were a human barricade.

Panic began to set in. This wasn't right. Aria said this way was safe. Aria said she would just blend in.

“I said excuse me,” Emily tried again, a little louder this time. She tried to summon the confidence the gold dress was supposed to give her. “I am a guest. I need to return to the party.”

The bodyguard on the left looked down at her. His eyes were dark, empty pits. He didn't blink.

“Move!”

It was a command but sounded like a whisper. It was terrifying because he didn't shout. He didn't need to shout. The authority in his voice was absolute. It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order given to a prisoner.

He pointed not toward the party, but toward a side door that Emily hadn't noticed before. It was a heavy, black door that looked out of place against the festive decorations.

Emily’s breath hitched. “No,” she said, taking a step back. “No, I’m going back to the restroom. I forgot something.”

She turned to run back down the hallway she came from. But before she could take a single step, a large hand clamped onto her upper arm. It wasn't gentle. It was a vice grip. It hurt.

“You are going inside,” the guard said.

They dragged her toward the black door. Emily wanted to scream, but her throat had closed up. The music from the party was so loud on the other side of the wall, yet no one could hear her. She was inches away from hundreds of people, but she was completely alone.

The guard pushed the black door open.

The room was a nightmare. It wasn't an office or a storage closet. It was small, windowless, and suffocating. The only light came from a single red bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting a bloody, sickly glow over everything. The walls were padded with dark soundproofing foam.

In the center of the room was a bed. It was perfectly made with black sheets. Next to it, on a small wooden table, sat a bottle of expensive wine and a single glass.

It looked like a stage set for something terrible. It looked like a waiting room for a victim.

The bodyguards pushed her inside. The force was enough to send her stumbling forward. She caught herself on the edge of the bed, the silk sheets cool under her hands.

She spun around, terror seizing her chest.

The guards stood in the doorway, filling the frame. They didn't come in. They just watched her for a second, their expressions blank.

“Wait!” Emily cried out, rushing toward them. “You can’t do this! Who are you? Does Ethan know about this?”

They didn't answer. They stepped back and pulled the door shut.

Click.

The sound of the lock engaging was the loudest thing Emily had ever heard.

She ran to the door and pounded on it with her fists. “Let me out! Help! Somebody help me!”

But the soundproofing swallowed her screams. The red light buzzed overhead, flickering slightly. The room felt like a coffin.

Emily backed away from the door, her chest heaving. She looked around the small space. The red light made her gold dress look copper, like dried blood. The wine bottle glinted menacingly.

Why was she here? Who were those men?

Was this Ethan? Had he figured out who she truly was?

Or... a terrible thought crossed her mind... was this Aria? Had Aria set her up? Aria had given her the dress. Aria had told her to use the back door. Aria had sent her straight into the arms of these men.

No. Aria wouldn't. Aria was her friend. Aria was protecting her.

But why was she in a red room with a bed?

Emily sank to the floor, her back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. The gold dress bunched up around her. She felt like a doll that had been placed in a box, waiting for the owner to come and play.