Chapter 60 The Harlot and the beast
Aria’s POV
I stood against the wall like a decoration.
A pretty, expensive decoration in a burgundy dress that cost more than most people’s monthly rent. I watched couples swirl across the dance floor. Watched waiters glide past with champagne.
Christian was everywhere.Every time I turned around, he was there. His hand on my elbow. His breath on my neck. His voice in my ear, reminding me to smile, to stand up straight, to stop looking so miserable.
“You’re representing both our families tonight,” he’d whispered earlier. “Try to look like you’re not attending a funeral.”
But that’s exactly what this felt like. My funeral. The death of any future I’d ever wanted for myself.
I caught Melissa’s eye across the room. She was dancing with Jason, Gavin’s son, and even from this distance I could see the tension in her shoulders. We were both trapped in our own particular hells tonight.
At least she had someone who looked at her like Gavin looked at her…like she was the only person in the room, like she was worth burning the world down for.
Christian looked at me like I was a possession. A trophy. A problem to be managed.
My stomach growled.
I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. My mother had insisted I skip lunch…“You need to fit in that dress, darling”…and I’d been too anxious to argue.
I spotted the buffet table along the far wall. Beautiful displays of food that were probably cold by now, but I didn’t care. I just needed something.
I made my way over, trying to be invisible, trying not to draw attention to myself.
I’d just picked up a plate and reached for a small sandwich when a hand clamped around my wrist. Hard.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Christian’s voice was low and angry. His fingers dug into my wrist until I dropped the plate. It clattered against the table.
“I was just…”
“Eating?” He stepped closer, blocking me from view of the room. To anyone watching, we probably looked like an intimate couple having a private moment. “Are you serious right now?”
“I’m hungry, Christian. I haven’t eaten…”
“Women shouldn’t be stuffing their faces at events like this.” His grip tightened. “Are you a pig? Is that what you are? A disgusting little harlot who can’t control herself for one evening?”
The word hit me like a slap. Harlot. Like I was dirty. Shameful. Less than human.
“You’re embarrassing us,” he continued, his perfect smile never wavering even as his eyes burned with contempt. “You’re embarrassing me. Do you have any idea how this looks? My fiancée, gorging herself like some…”
I ripped my wrist from his grip.
People were starting to look. I could feel their eyes on us, could hear the whispers starting.
I didn’t care.I just ran.
Through the crowd, past the shocked faces, toward the exit. My heels clicked frantically against the marble floor. The burgundy dress flew behind me like blood.
“Aria!”
Christian’s voice boomed behind me. He sounded really angry and he was no longer trying to hide it.
I burst through the doors into the hallway.I didn’t know where I was going. Just away. Anywhere but near him.
I heard heavy footsteps behind me getting closer.
“Aria, stop!”
A hand grabbed my arm, spinning me around. Christian’s face was red, his perfect composure finally cracking.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” he demanded. “Running away like some child? Making a scene?”
“Let go of me.” My voice shook but I held his gaze. “Let. Go.”
“We’re going back in there,” he said, his grip tightening. “You’re going to smile and apologize for your behavior and we’re going to finish this evening like civilized people. Do you understand?”
“Christian.” I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I had left. “I don’t love you. I don’t want you. Please, just leave me alone. Call off the engagement. Let me go.”
He stared at me like I’d spoken a foreign language.
Then he laughed.
It wasn’t a nice laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made my blood run cold.
“Leave you alone?” He pulled me closer, his face inches from mine. “Call off the engagement? You can’t be that stupid, Aria. Tell me you’re not that stupid.”
“What?”
“Your family owes mine two million dollars.” He said it slowly, carefully, like explaining something to a particularly dim child. “Two. Million. Dollars. Do you know what happens if that debt isn’t paid?”
The world tilted.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father made some very bad investments. And almost lost everything. He came crawling to my father for help.” His smile was cruel. “And my father helped. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course. With the understanding that the debt would be repaid through a… mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“No.” My voice came out as a whisper. “No, that’s not…”
“You were young when the agreement was made. A cute little girl with purple hair who liked to paint. My father said you’d grow up pretty, and he was right.” Christian’s hand moved to my face, his thumb brushing my cheek in a mockery of tenderness. “You’ve been mine since you were twelve years old, Aria. And there is no escape. No walking away. No calling it off. You marry me, or your entire family loses everything.”
I felt the color drain from my face. I felt my knees go weak.
“You’re lying.”
“Ask your parents.” His voice was pleasant now. Almost friendly.
Tears burned behind my eyes but I wouldn’t let them fall. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
“I don’t care.” He shrugged. “You don’t have to love me. You just have to marry me. Then give me an heir or two. After that, you can paint all you want. I won’t bother you.”
“You’re a monster.”
“No.” His expression hardened. “I’m a businessman. Just like your father. And you ignored my calls yesterday, which was disrespectful and unacceptable.”
The slap came without warning.
My head snapped to the side, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. Pain exploded across my cheek. The taste of copper filled my mouth where I’d bitten my tongue.
For a moment, I just stood there, stunned.
I felt something dark shimmering inside me .Something that had been buried for too long.
I touched my cheek slowly, feeling the heat of the mark he’d left. When I looked back at him, I felt my expression change. Felt something deadly settle into my eyes.
Christian was still talking, still insulting me, still going on about respect and obligation and how I needed to learn my place.
He didn’t notice the danger.
I walked toward him slowly. He was midsentence, hand raised to strike me again, when someone came out of nowhere.
A blur of emerald green.
Melissa.
She tackled him sideways, both of them crashing into the wall. Christian stumbled, shocked, and Melissa’s hand connected with his face in a slap that rang out like a gunshot.
“Don’t you ever,” she hissed, “touch her again.”
Then she was running to me, her hands on my face, her eyes frantic.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I should have gotten here sooner, I’m so sorry…”
Behind her, a scream cut through the air.
We turned.
A man had Christian pinned against the wall, one arm twisted behind his back at an angle that looked painful. The man was tall, dark-haired, devastatingly attractive in an expensive suit that probably cost more than my dress.
And he was smiling.Not a nice smile. That was the smile of a predator.
“Never turn your eyes away from your enemy,” he said conversationally, applying more pressure. Christian whimpered. “That’s the first lesson my grandfather taught me. Always know where the threat is.”
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower.
“And right now, you’re the threat.”
Then he shoved Christian away. Hard. Christian stumbled, barely catching himself before falling.
“Walk away,” the stranger said. “While you still can.”
Christian looked between all of us…Melissa still holding me, the stranger blocking his path, me with my deadly eyes still locked on him.
“This isn’t over,” he spat. “You’re still mine, Aria. All of this changes nothing.”
“Get. Out.” The stranger’s voice was pure ice.
Christian straightened his jacket with shaking hands and walked away, throwing one last venomous look over his shoulder.
The second he was gone, my legs gave out.
Melissa caught me before I hit the ground, lowering us both down until we were sitting on the hallway floor, my head on her shoulder, her arms wrapped tight around me.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
But I wasn’t safe.
I would never be safe again.
Because I’d been sold when I was twelve years old, and there was no escape.
The stranger knelt in front of us, his expression softening with something that looked almost like sympathy.
“Are you alright?” he asked gently.
I looked up at him.
“Who are you?” My voice was hoarse.
He smiled. Not the predator's smile from before. Something warmer.
“Kane Rivers,” he said.