Chapter 13

Under the starlight, amidst a crowd of other couples, Anna swayed in Aiden’s arms to a slow, romantic ballad on the ersatz dance floor. When she pushed into him with a quiet sigh that sent hot breath along his neck, his grin widened. The ring, its own melody lulled, wrapped them in gentle tendrils.

“I could really get to like this, Aiden,” she murmured. “Whatever this is. Am I meant to be doing this?”

“Hmm?” He pressed his lips into her silky hair. “I don’t really know. You were only supposed to ... But you’re far more, uh ... Well, you’re different.”

“You complaining?” With a muted giggle, she mashed her pelvis into him, grinding against his swollen flesh. “Mmm, no, I don’t think you mind at all.”

With the ring’s music intensifying, he gulped. His eyes caught Madame Dumont’s glare. No, there was no anger in them. Not anymore. Instead, she wore a wide-eyed stare that remained even after he locked onto her. Beside her, the slender man tried to hold Aiden’s return gaze, but turned away. At Anna’s soft gasp, Aiden glanced down at her. She also was watching Madame Dumont.

“What are you going to do about her?” Her fingers wandered his hip. “I can sense ... Well, you’ve got something on her.”

“I do.” He nodded. “And I think it’s time.”

“For?” When she lifted her eyes to his, he sighed. With his mind relaxed, he let the ring send images. Her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, wow. You’re really going to—”

“I’m gonna snap her like a dry twig.” At his cold, clipped tone, she shuddered. Along his neck, her breathing raced. “And—”

“—you’ll really enjoy doing it,” she murmured before breaking into a nervous giggle. Bright white, her teeth sank deep into her lower lip. She added in a shaky whisper, “I’m, uh, pretty sure the haughty bitch will as well.”

At another sudden image, he probed deeper into those gray-green pools. Although they twinkled, filling with desire, he shook his head.

“No.” When his hands clasped her waist, Anna’s lips parted, releasing a whimper. “I’m keeping you all to myself.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure how I feel about that.” She glanced at Madame Dumont, hovering along a wall just inside the open glass doors. Even as she conversed with several people, she continued to look over at them. “I think she’d get a kick out of me watching.”

“Maybe.” His voice deepened as he caught Madame Dumont’s glinting eyes. “But not yet.”

After a slow sigh, he released her and stepped away. As he watched, Anna flashed a smile before sashaying towards the bar. Though the salacious swings of her hips were for him, others tracked their enticing motion. After chuckling under his breath, he swept fingers through his hair, straightened his tuxedo jacket, and made for Madame Dumont.

With every step closer, as he weaved through guests, Madame Dumont’s eyes widened further. And the ring’s music intensified. Flames roared skywards, licking the roof of its tiny black cage. Yet, nothing but intense calm filled him. This was right. What the ring wanted. What he wanted. And, when he bored into her glistening, dark brown pools, the crimson sequins of her dress shimmered as she waited.

“We need to talk, Madame Dumont.” Although Aiden’s voice was low, at its measured, clipped tone, the others around her fell silent.

“C-Can’t...” After a shaky cough, she swallowed. “Um, can’t it, wait, Mister Wilson?”

“No.” Gone was any hint of warmth in the single word. It was pure ice.

With a quiver rippling through her, she struggled to take her gaze from him. At the ring’s abrupt lunge, despite being ready, Aiden’s hand still surged forward. But right before it clasped her wrist, he tugged it away. In the distant cage, he backhanded the ring into a corner. Music sputtered as flames tumbled and fluttered around the spinning circle of etched gold.

“Fine.” Though she’d relented, her arm shook while gesturing towards a pair of closed sliding wooden doors.

At a sharp gasp, Aiden looked at Michel, returning with two champagne flutes. The slender man shuddered to a halt as Aiden walked away beside Madame Dumont. When he started to take another step, Aiden’s brows knitted. Although he couldn’t hear the growl in Aiden’s chest, Michel halted.

When a hiss left Madame Dumont, Aiden turned to her. White-rimmed, her dark pools shone; she had caught the growl. After a quick glance at the twin sharp peaks that shot into view atop her heaving chest, he smirked.

After he’d tugged on the handles, both doors slid open to reveal a spacious office. He scanned the cherry shelves lined with books and a massive glossy dark wooden desk, behind which was a high-backed black leather executive chair. Carpeted in crimson and black, the room exuded shadowy, elegant comfort.

Her inner sanctum.

With the same ice flooding his core, he watched her shaky silhouette cross into the dark space.

Perfect.

As soon as she was inside, Aiden thumped the doors closed and flicked the lock. At the snick, she whirled. Her eyes expanded when his fingers whipped upwards to clench her throat. While throttling her yelp, he drove her backwards into a red and black-striped wall.

When her mouth opened, his hand tightened. Held by his mind, the ring trembled with hungry need. Its flames corded tighter. With its music muffled by his surging power, it could only watch while he leaned closer.

“Let me explain a few things, Madame Dumont.” Another growl, but that time primal, base, and dripping with power, built deep in his chest. “That gorgeous woman out there is mine. I own her. She’s my neighbor’s beautiful wife and I fucking own her.” Sparkling tingles of energy began to crumble free inside him as he let a grin appear. “But you understand that, don’t you? You’re only playacting. I am the genuine article.”

When she began to shove her outstretched fingers against his chest, he snarled. Her hands froze. With expensive, delicate perfume tickling his nostrils, Aiden’s muscles tightened. As his other hand lifted his phone, her gaze tracked it until he held it before her.

“You had quite an interesting college experience, Madame Dumont.” When his finger tapped, and the first photo appeared, air hissed from her. Leather-clad, on her knees, she was working a shimmering cock in each fist while another thrust between her smiling lips. “Or should I say Sophie, the filthy French tart?”

As image after image appeared, Aiden loosened his grip on the ring. Its music wound ever louder while its fires weaved higher. Yet it remained still. From its brightening cage, it watched, filling with unease.

“All this time, you’ve been playing a silly part. Hoping to one day find somebody to unleash the real you. The hungry slut you adored.” As he spoke, her shimmering wide eyes flashed between him and the endless scrolling images. “Except you don’t trust anyone. Not anymore. Far too much to lose nowadays. So, you surround yourself with lessers. Toys. Pets. Sycophants like Hawthorne.”

While glaring into her ever-wilder eyes, Aiden pressed his fingers tighter to her throbbing neck. From his chest, her hands fell away to dangle at her side. Unleashed, though its blue-tipped flames licked the ceiling of its cage, the ring still observed. Although its ancient melody continued, the tune remained low, restrained. Transfixed on them, it was fascinated.

“That’s what so disappointed you, wasn’t it?” His fingertips caressed her silken throat. “When I arrived, you’d hoped it would be me, didn’t you, filthy little Sophie?”

When she bobbed her chin, Aiden’s grin widened. With a sigh, he put away the phone and ran his fingers along her flank. At his curt growl, she tensed, but the ring answered his call and surged. Tendrils plowed deep into her as she shuddered. Images. Dreams. Secrets flowed from her. But from him, nothing. Though the ring tried, not a single thought slipped from his steely grip. A slim grin crossed his taut lips as he glanced into the distant little cage; he could hide secrets as well.