Chapter 233
Aria's POV
The leather of Devon's Bentley seat felt cool against my skin as we pulled away from Harper Group. I stole a glance at his profile—jawline tight, eyes focused on the road ahead. The silence between us felt heavy, filled with tension neither of us wanted to acknowledge.
Devon reached over, his fingers gently brushing against the red marks circling my wrist—evidence from last night when he'd handcuffed me to his bed. "Does it hurt?" His voice was low, almost tender, before hardening slightly. "Next time, be more obedient."
I pulled my sleeve down, covering the evidence. My heart beat faster at his touch, despite my determination to remain detached. "I had plans tonight."
"But now you have plans with me." His eyes remained on the road, but I felt his attention shift toward me. The commanding tone in his voice had become familiar, yet it still stirred something within me I couldn't quite suppress.
"Why was he at your company anyway?" Devon asked, jaw tightening slightly.
I forced lightness into my voice, trying to mask how his jealousy affected me. "Little boys get bored eventually. He'll move on."
Devon's eyes flickered to mine briefly, something possessive darkening them. My heart raced, and I hated myself for responding to that look—for wanting him to care who I spent time with, even as I told myself this arrangement was temporary.
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The Sotheby's auction house glittered with New York's elite by early evening. Devon guided me through the crowd, his hand resting on the small of my back with surprising tenderness. "Tonight, anything you want is yours," he murmured, fingers tracing small circles at my waist.
I recognized his gesture for what it was—compensation for last night's roughness—but I couldn't deny the warmth that spread through me at his touch. His moods shifted so rapidly: cold and distant one moment, attentive and almost affectionate the next. Each time he showed this gentler side, I felt my walls crumbling slightly.
My attention was caught by familiar faces in the crowd.
Calvin Reed approached, accompanied by a man I didn't recognize. Conversations hushed slightly as they passed—people instinctively making way. The stranger was about thirty, with striking blue eyes that seemed to search the room with unusual intensity.
When they reached us, those eyes landed on me with unsettling recognition.
"Aria Harper," he extended his hand, a smile forming. "Felix Shaw. Have we met before? You look remarkably familiar."
Before I could respond, Devon inserted himself slightly between us, his posture stiffening. I felt his hand press more firmly against my back. "Mr. Shaw, curiosity can sometimes lead to unnecessary complications." His tone was conversational, but the warning beneath it was unmistakable.
Felix stepped back slightly, though his gaze remained fixed on me. "You remind me of an old friend. Remarkably so."
The intensity of his stare sent a chill down my spine. Devon's fingers tightened at my waist, drawing me closer to him—a silent claim that wasn't lost on anyone present.
"Next up, the legendary 'Tears of Kunlun' ruby necklace," the auctioneer announced. "Believed to have belonged to Eastern royalty. Starting bid begins at one million dollars."
On the display platform, the dual-colored ruby necklace caught the light, its center stone radiating a mysterious glow. I found myself drawn to its deep crimson heart, unable to look away.
Devon's attention sharpened as he studied the piece. His breathing changed subtly—quicker, more focused. His expression transformed into something I'd never seen before—recognition, perhaps? Or was it something deeper, more personal? For a moment, he seemed to forget I was beside him, lost in some private memory.
The bidding escalated rapidly. Felix Shaw participated eagerly, his paddle rising with each increase, his eyes occasionally drifting toward me with an intensity that made me uneasy.
"Ten million dollars," Devon suddenly raised his paddle, his voice cutting through the murmurs. The room fell silent. The auctioneer's hammer came down with finality.
As Devon claimed his prize, Felix smiled enigmatically before disappearing into the crowd. Devon's eyes followed him, narrowed with suspicion.
I watched it all unfold with a hollow feeling settling in my chest. "He can give me temporary ownership of beautiful things," I thought, watching Devon's profile as he arranged payment, "but in the end, they'll belong to someone else. Just like me."
In Devon's car later that evening, he seemed lost in thought, fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a velvet box. When he opened it, I was surprised to see not the ruby necklace from the auction, but a platinum and diamond piece that sparkled under the dim car lights.
"I had this selected specifically for you," he said, removing it from its case. His fingers were warm against my neck as he fastened the clasp, lingering there longer than necessary. His touch was careful, almost reverent. "Do you like it?"
The diamonds felt cold against my skin, heavy with unspoken meaning. I touched them lightly, wondering if this too was compensation, ownership, or something else entirely—something he wasn't ready to name.
"It's beautiful," I answered truthfully, though my thoughts drifted to the mysterious ruby necklace he'd paid ten million dollars for, then seemingly forgotten. The necklace that had caused such intensity in his gaze, and which now was nowhere to be seen.
Devon's fingers traced along my collarbone, just below the diamonds. "Beautiful things deserve beautiful settings," he murmured, his eyes never leaving my face. There was something vulnerable in his expression—fleeting, but unmistakable—before his usual mask of control returned.