Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Thiago
Zayden heads straight to the bar at the far end of the room, already reaching for the bottle like it’s his armor—ready to dive, headfirst, into a drunken oblivion.
Fabiola watches us from the center of the room, inspecting us like merchandise she already owns.
Her words echo inside my head. “I’ll marry you, but I want the truth. Always the truth.”
It wasn’t like she asked me for something unreasonable—just something impossible to give. Truth doesn’t survive in places like this. It gets rewritten, traded, and sold. So there’s no point to it, unless you’re willing to lose.
And I simply am not.
I’ve always known Fabiola has been more into women, even when she was promised to Peter. She never hid it. That’s why I figured this arrangement would be perfect for both of us—easy and transactional. Simply for appearances.
Sure, there would be instances, like tonight, where I’ll be forced to touch her, and she’ll pretend to welcome it.
We’d sell the illusion to the donors, give them leverage they can hold over our heads.
That’s why we are here, in a red room, and not somewhere more private.
This is a game, and while I was busy playing for keeps, she was busy setting up the stage.
She’s playing a role I didn’t expect her to play so easily, but here we are.
My future bride doesn’t just want a seat at the table. She wants the table itself.
Which makes me wonder what she’s really after. Power? Freedom?
Whatever it is, I’ll find out. Fabiola saunters towards Zayden, hips swaying with deliberate rhythm, her body dripping confidence and sensuality.
Zayden freezes mid-drink, as her finger trails down the length of his spine.
My hands clench into fists at my side. The idea of her touching what’s mine has every muscle in my body drawing tight.
“Before anything happens,” she says, before glancing over her shoulder at me. “We’re going to be clear.”
I stiffen at her words, or maybe it’s the look in her eyes.
The one that dares me to challenge her. Tension thickens the air, heavy enough to choke on, making the space even more suffocating than it already was.
Fabiola steps closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, while Zayden downs his drink before proceeding to drink even more directly from the bottle.
“I’m going to be his wife,” she purrs, not in a seductive way but something sinister… a warning. “And since you,” her hand travels down his happy trail, “Are his bitch, that makes you mine.”
Zayden’s shoulders move as he laughs, muttering under his breath. “Cute.”
“I’m not joking,” she quips with a smile, before unwrapping her arms from his waist and turning away. Her eyes are still on him when she adds. “You and I?” She motions between them. “We’re going to be friends. Real friends. Because in a hell like this, an ally is worth more than pride.”
Her gaze shifts to me then, and for a second, I see past the performance—past the cruelty we all learn to wear like jewelry.
She’s terrified, and she should be. We’re all just trying to survive the only way we know how.
My heart hammers inside my chest, the drugs I took earlier beginning to burn through my veins, spreading warmth like a wildfire.
I look up towards the donor’s glass, waiting for the red dot to appear…
Fabiola is the first to move, removing her dress in one swift motion. The fabric pooling at her feet, exposing herself bare to us. “They want a show, let’s give them one,” she says with a grin.
Zayden’s eyes clash with mine, his Adam’s apple bobs with how hard he swallows. “I won’t touch you, he will,” I say flatly, to which she smiles, her index finger slowly moving side to side.
“No, actually, you will both touch, and I’ll watch,” she counters softly with a shrug. “And maybe I’ll join.”
My jaw ticks…
Running my tongue over my teeth, I can’t help the grin that spreads through my face. I see it now—her plan. She’s returning the same favor. Exposing me, in the same way I exposed her intimate moment with Ms. Torres. Touche.
Zayden slams down the bottle on the glass surface. “Let’s get the fucking party going.”
The music fades, until it’s nothing but a pulse beneath our skin. I can feel Fabiola’s eyes burning holes into me, and Zayden moves like an obedient dog ready to play. The red dot flickers to life on the glass, and I swallow down the bile that quickly works its way up my throat.
It’s showtime.
I move because I have to, not necessarily because I want to. The drugs hum through my veins, dulling the edges of my thoughts and morals. Leaving nothing but a beast that needs to rut. Nothing but raw and mechanical obedience. Everything slows—the sound, the light… the air itself.
Fabiola’s small hand finds Zayden’s lower back, guiding him like a director on set. His eyes flick to her, and I snap my fingers, hating for his attention to be anywhere but here with me. “Don’t look at her. Eyes up here, Ruas.”
His breath stutters when he meets my gaze, pupils blown wide. For a split second, I see the question in his eyes. How far will you go?
I answer with a smirk, and my hand closes around his throat, feeling his pulse hammering beneath my fingers. I wet my lips, becoming exactly what Velarium demands of me, letting them witness the monster they built. “Kneel.”
Zayden grunts, but he obeys, dropping to his knees slowly. Fabiola watches, her fingers threading through his hair, her gaze locked on mine.
“Show me how you please him,” she orders, and I won’t lie… the sight has me harder than I could ever have thought possible.
Zayden’s fingers tremble, my pulse racing as his hand dips behind the waistband of my pants. The moment stretches, becoming unbearable, until my cock springs free from the confines of my pants, his hand wrapping around it. The heat of his palm pushes away the cold from the room.
I try to keep my expression blank, my body mechanical, even though everything inside me burns. A deep groan rumbles in my chest when his calloused hand moves slowly and deliberately up and down my shaft.
“Fuck,” I mutter before pistoning my hips forward.
Fabiola grins, biting down on her lip as she inches his head forward.
“Be a good boy, and suck him,” she purrs.
I feel his hot breath tickle my heated flesh before his warm, wet mouth wraps around my cock. The sensation catapults heat into my core, my toes curling and my head falling back just as his tongue twirls around the tip. Lazy and languid movements that push me closer to the edge.
“What a tease…” I mutter, desperate to feel the back of this throat, but he only stays in the same spot.
I piston my hips, but he backs away, not giving me what I want.
Edging me until I can no longer take it.
My hand moves to his dark strands, and I fist his hair, shoving my cock deep into his mouth.
“That’s how you fucking suck me, Zayden. Stop teasing.”
He gags and tries to pull back, but Fabiola keeps him there.
“Take all of me…” I drag my cock out, his tongue licking underneath when I push back in. “You look so beautiful with your mouth full of me.”
With that, I hold his head down, his nostrils flaring over my flesh as I force him to take every inch of me, and I’m not small. There’s about nine and a half inches deep inside his mouth, and soon, his ass. Fabiola’s hand reaches up to my cheek, her delicate fingers massage the spot.
“Kiss me,” she asks, to which I shake my head no. But she still moves towards me.
Crashing her lips against mine, she groans against me, her hand now moving Zayden, his head bobbing with gracious movements. My eyes flick up to the glass, and nausea replaces the molten lava that gathers in my stomach. Disgust over takes the drugs, and I’m fighting the urge to gag.
Still, I continue to perform, opening my mouth to grant access to her demanding tongue.
I force myself to breathe, to stay inside the role they built for me.
My grip tightens in Zayden’s hair. I’m sure it’s hurting him, but all I hear is his groans that drag me away from the donors and slam me into him.
Closing my eyes, I let them anchor me to this moment.
To the pleasure as he continues to suck me, as her tongue continues to glide desperately against mine.
Fabiola breaks away from the kiss, allowing me to gasp a full mouthful of air.
“I want to see you fuck him…”
A demand I’m honestly too eager to fulfill.
I look down at Zayden, his black eyeshadow is smudged around his eyes, making the brown in his eyes pop.
Tears streak down his cheek, along with a mess of snot and spit.
He looks ruined, beautifully broken, and it makes something inside me twist. I release my grip on his hair, letting my fingers trace the line of his jaw before tilting his chin up, forcing him to look at me.
My thumb moves over his soft lips, wishing I could taste them… but I couldn’t, not here…
In this room, he’s nothing but a pet….
Something for me to use…
To claim… So no one else can.
“My future wife wants me to fuck you…” I rasp, dragging my thumb down his bottom lip until he bites down on it painfully.
Even now, he fights it—and I welcome every bit of fight he has to give.
Fabiola kneels behind Zayden, placing small kisses against his shoulder.
His eyes roll back, and before he can stop it, he’s grinding against my foot.
“Look at you, so desperate,” I murmur, running my foot along the tension pressing against it. “Beg for me to fuck you, Ruas.”
“Fuck… You…” he snarls through gritted teeth. The nausea hits again… as Fabiola’s hands remove the armor on his shoulder, before peeling away the toga fabric.
Seductively, she whispers against his skin. “Oh, that he will….”
Her hooded gaze flicks to mine, and I see her message clearly.
To act… This means nothing.