Chapter 122
Aria's POV
The attendant placed her palm against my lower back and gave a gentle push, sending me stumbling forward. Before I could protest, the door clicked shut behind me.
I froze. The room before me pulsated with low, hypnotic music. Through the haze of ambient red lighting, I made out dozens of figures moving like shadows across the expansive space. Men wore impeccable black tuxedos and half-masks, while women—my breath caught—wore little more than what I had been forced to put on: scraps of lace that barely qualified as clothing, their bodies on display like merchandise.
My hand flew to my exposed midriff, a futile attempt at modesty. I spun around and pushed against the door, but it wouldn't budge. My heart raced as panic rose in my throat.
"Devon Kane, what exactly are you trying to prove?" I whispered, feeling more exposed with each passing second as eyes turned toward me, the newcomer. The cool air against my nearly naked body made me shiver, but whether from cold or fear, I couldn't tell.
I pulled the phoenix mask more securely over my face, grateful for the small anonymity it provided. The lace barely covered my breasts, and the lower piece was nothing more than a triangle in front with thin straps that left my backside completely exposed. Every step I took made me acutely aware of my vulnerability.
"First time?" A deep voice startled me.
I turned to find a tall man in a gold mask extending a flute of champagne toward me. His tuxedo jacket was open, revealing a sculpted chest.
"I'm not interested," I replied, my voice shakier than I intended.
He chuckled, a rich sound that somehow carried above the music. "This is the 'Garden of Desires'—Eden's most exclusive gathering. Everyone here has a purpose, darling. No need to play innocent."
I kept my arms crossed protectively over my chest, feeling increasingly small and vulnerable. "What kind of place is this exactly?"
"A playground for the elite." He gestured around the room. "Where fantasies become reality, without judgment or consequences. Your Master clearly has special plans for you tonight."
"My Master?" I echoed, disgust rising in my throat.
"The one who brought you, of course." His eyes gleamed behind his mask.
I stepped back, repulsed. "I am no one's toy."
He shrugged elegantly before melting back into the crowd, leaving me alone with the champagne flute I'd never accepted.
I needed to find a bathroom—somewhere, anywhere I could hide until I figured out how to escape this nightmare. My legs felt unsteady as I moved, keeping close to the walls, slipping through the crowd, ignoring the appreciative glances and occasional reaching hands.
A narrow hallway beckoned with the promise of privacy. I hurried toward it, relief washing over me at the prospect of a moment's respite from prying eyes.
"Aria? Aria Harper?"
My blood turned to ice. I knew that voice.
Richard Brown stood before me, his surprise quickly morphing into something predatory. He wore no mask, his identity brazenly displayed.
"It can't be," I whispered, instinctively turning my face away.
Richard reached out and lifted my mask slightly, his fingers cold against my skin. He let out a bark of laughter that made my skin crawl.
"Well, well," he chuckled, letting my mask fall back into place and blocking my path. "Even with this fancy mask, I'd recognize those lips anywhere. William never mentioned you were part of this circle. How... unexpected."
"I'm not," I said firmly, attempting to step around him. "You've mistaken me for someone else. Excuse me."
His hand shot out, gripping my wrist with painful force. "Not so fast." With surprising strength, he pushed me against the wall. "Your father wants our companies to merge. Perhaps we should start with a more... personal merger."
Panic flooded my system as his eyes raked over my exposed body. "Get your hands off me," I warned, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I guarantee I can satisfy you better than Kane ever could," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear as his hand slid up my thigh, fingers hooking into the thin strap of my underwear. "Your father wouldn't mind. In fact, he practically offered you to me."
I struggled against his grip, trying to push him away, but the wall behind me left nowhere to retreat. My arms flailed against his chest, but he only pressed closer. I tried to knee him, but the position gave me no leverage.
"Stop it!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down to avoid attracting unwanted attention that would only increase my humiliation.
Richard's fingers pulled at my lace underwear, the thin material offering no resistance. "Kane isn't here yet," he said, his voice thick with anticipation. "We have time for a quick sample. Consider it a preview of our future business relationship."
I felt tears of frustration and fear burning behind my eyes. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. "I'll scream," I threatened, my voice trembling.
"Go ahead," he taunted. "In this place, screams are just part of the entertainment."
Suddenly, Richard was gone—yanked backward with such force that he stumbled several feet before crashing to the floor.
Devon stood between us, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and rage I'd never seen before. His jaw was clenched tight, chest heaving with rapid breaths. The controlled businessman was gone, replaced by something raw and dangerous. His hands were balled into fists so tight that his knuckles had turned white.
"Kane," Richard gasped, genuine fear crossing his face.
"Brown," Devon's voice was barely audible, shaking with fury. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
Devon's eyes flicked to me, taking in my disheveled state, the lace underwear partially pulled down. Something shifted in his expression—a flash of guilt quickly consumed by rage.
"Mr. Brown appears to have forgotten the club's primary rule," Devon announced, his voice carrying like a whip crack. Security personnel materialized from the shadows, surrounding us. "No one touches another's companion without explicit consent."
Richard scrambled to his feet, adjusting his disheveled clothing. "Kane, I didn't realize she was with—"
"Silence." Devon's single word cut through the air. He turned to me, his expression softening slightly, an unspoken question in his eyes. "Come here."
I hesitated, caught between the devil I knew and the one I'd just escaped. Richard's hungry eyes still lingered on my body, while Devon's outstretched hand offered protection wrapped in possession. My arms instinctively crossed over my chest as I struggled with the decision.
Devon's eyes betrayed a flash of hurt at my hesitation. With reluctance, I moved toward him, my fingers lightly grasping the sleeve of his jacket instead of taking his hand—a small assertion of independence.
A muscle twitched in Devon's jaw at my small act of defiance, but his eyes held a new understanding, perhaps even respect. He addressed the security team without taking his eyes off me. "He touched what's mine. Ensure he never enters this establishment again." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "And break the hand he used on her."
Richard's face drained of color. "You can't—"
"Brown, I can do whatever I want." Devon placed his hand on the small of my back, his touch gentler than before, guiding me away. "Let's go."