Chapter 19 ATHENA #2
And Bella won’t waste her night thinking about Dominic. Freaking. Stone.
—
I failed. Miserably.
Three drinks deep and not even Alice’s bright smile or endless small talk could help me get this man out of my mind.
He was nowhere. A ghost. And like a fool, I kept searching the crowd, hoping—no, needing—to see him. Three hours had passed and still… nothing.
I should’ve known better. A purple dress and a mask didn’t mean he suddenly cared.
Just when I was about to leave this party, vanish back into my room and pretend this night never happened, I saw him.
Not Dominic—Garrett Stone. That silver fox demon in a dark blue mask, loud laugh trailing like smoke.
My stomach twisted, but my feet moved before I could stop them.
I excused myself in front of Alice before I followed him, my pulse racing like I was chasing something I had no business chasing.
And then… I froze.
Down the hall, behind a glass door, men lounged on silk couches with champagne in hand. And women—half-naked, dancing like their bodies were made for worship. A brunette was straddling a man’s lap, giggling as he gripped her thighs, but I wasn’t looking at them. I was looking at him.
Dominic Stone sat like a king among wolves. One arm draped over the couch, the other holding a glass of something dark. His face was partially hidden by shadows, but I’d recognize the sharp cut of his jaw and that scar anywhere.
And then she appeared. A blonde girl in black lace panties and nothing else.
She dropped to her knees between his legs like she was born to beg for his attention.
Her hands slid up his thighs, slow, practiced, and he let her.
He didn’t look or touch her, but he didn’t stop her either.
And just like that, something inside me snapped.
Sharp. Ugly. Real.
What is this? Jealousy? I don’t do that.
Even when I knew Mason was seeing a different girl every week, it didn’t crush me.
It wasn’t pleasant, sure—but I could live with it.
I’d seen the photos in the magazines, read the gossip about his latest conquests.
And still, I didn’t feel the kind of soul-searing jealousy I’d expect from someone falling apart over a man.
Because jealousy wasn’t something I felt. Not really. So why the hell was I sweating now? Why couldn’t I tear my eyes away—why was I shaking?
It’s wrong. I have no right to think that way about someone who was never mine. He said it himself—this is just a game to him. A game he plays with wicked precision. And me? I’m the fool who thought I could win.
I came in confident. I thought I could match him move for move, but somewhere between the way he touched me—like my body was an instrument only he knew how to play and the way his pitch-black eyes swallowed me whole, I lost my footing.
I lost the game. And now, when I should run—when I could run—when no one knows my name, when I could disappear and never look back, but the thought doesn’t even tempt me.
Because I don’t want to run anymore.
I’ve spent my whole life hiding behind the perfect mask: the good daughter, the obedient sister, the flawless heir to a blood-soaked empire. I did everything they asked, everything expected of me. But not anymore.
Her hand moved higher on his hip. Slow. Intentional. Taunting. And even though Dominic stopped her, gripping her wrist just before she could go further, he didn’t push her away. Not completely. That was the spark. The match that ignited the blaze I’d been trying to smother.
I tore my gaze away, catching a flash of movement at the edge of my vision.
A girl in white lingerie strolled out of the same room, completely unfazed, heels clacking confidently against the marble floor.
White lace, a matching thong, and her black mask barely concealing anything.
She walked past me like she belonged here.
Moments later, she emerged from a room behind me, now dressed in something respectable.
And then she vanished. I didn’t think, I just moved.
When no one was watching, I slipped into the room she’d come from and locked the door behind me.
The scent hit me first—expensive perfume and sweat.
It was exactly what I expected. Racks of provocative clothing lined the walls.
High heels in every shape and shade were scattered on the floor.
Masks hung like trophies, waiting for their next wearer.
I ripped the suffocating mask from my face and sucked in a deep breath, pacing.
My hands skimmed over silk, leather, lace.
I wasn’t thinking logically anymore. I was past that.
I was a woman about to make a reckless, glorious mistake, and there was not a soul in this world who could stop me.
Was it something I ever thought I’d wear? No.
Did it feel strange, staring at myself in the mirror like this? Absolutely.
But did I look sexy as hell? One hundred percent, yes.
I slipped on the first pair of black, high-heeled boots I found and turned toward the mirror again to look at myself in the black lingerie set that barely covered my breasts and most private part.
My vision swam slightly from the alcohol, but the fire in my chest had nothing to do with drinking.
Something darker was boiling under my skin.
I didn’t look like the girl everyone thought I was. Not the obedient daughter or the flawless heir. Not the polished, perfect Athena King. No.
The woman in the mirror looked dangerous, confident, reckless, and I freaking loved it. The mask that caught my attention hung on the wall like it had been waiting for me. Matte black, flecked with white stones, it covered my entire face. Perfect.
I pulled on a short, jet-black wig to hide my red hair.
It fell neatly to my shoulders. Between the mask and the wig, I was unrecognizable.
Even I couldn’t tell who I was anymore. I stood frozen, staring at my reflection.
Inside, two voices battled: one begged me to stop, to walk away, to change into my elegant dress and return to the safety of the party.
The other? She was grinning, urging me forward with a wicked laugh. Was I really going to walk into a room full of dangerous men, wearing this, just to prove a point?
Yes, I was. He wanted to play? Fine. Let’s play.
I tilted my chin up and slipped on the mask.
I stepped out of the room and into the corridor, making my way through the dim lights and curious stares.
Heads turned. Their eyes clung to me like they couldn’t look away.
Their comments rolled off my skin like smoke, disgusting, hungry, but none of it mattered. I wasn’t here for them.
Adrenaline pounded in my chest. My legs trembled, but I kept moving.
I spotted him before he saw me. The same girl was still kneeling at his feet, hands on his thighs, eyes upturned.
I took a breath and slid the glass door open.
The music kept playing, but the room fell into silence.
All eyes turned to me. If I thought my heart was racing before, now it was a violent thunder in my chest. But I didn’t let it show.
My hips swayed, my posture perfect. I walked like I owned the room—like I belonged here.
Men watched me, even the ones with girls in their laps. Women paused mid-dance, eyes laced with envy. I felt every stare, but I only cared about one.
Dominic’s gaze collided with mine, and just like that, the rest of the world disappeared.
His black mask shifted slightly as his eyes drank me in.
I could see the confusion first—then the intrigue, the slow burn of interest. He scanned me from head to toe, twice, like he was trying to figure out what kind of game I was playing.
Even in the shadows, I could see his eyes darken as they slid over the thin fabric barely clinging to my skin.
His tongue swept across his bottom lip, and for one terrifying second, I thought he knew.
But no, the wig, the mask—he couldn’t possibly recognize me.
I wasn’t Athena King anymore. I was someone else, bold and untouchable.
I moved with confidence, my hips rolling as I approached, and when I reached him, the girl at his feet tilted her head, still clinging to her spot between his legs. My stare was sharp enough to slice her open. I nodded to the side, a silent command. She smirked, unfazed.
“Leave,” Dominic said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.
He didn’t even glance at her. His eyes stayed on me. The girl hesitated, then stood. She made sure to thrust her hips in Dominic’s direction as she walked off. Men watched her go, but Dominic didn’t flinch. He only had eyes for me.
I stepped between his legs and leaned in, my mask inches from his. My fingers slid around the back of his neck, threading through his hair.
My hips began to sway—slow, deliberate. My hands trailed down his chest, over the hard lines of his abdomen, until they reached his belt. I toyed with it, teasing, watching his face pale ever so slightly. Power surged through me. He was unraveling.
I turned around with a dancer’s grace, my back to his chest, then bent over until my fingertips brushed the heels of my boots.
A collective groan rippled through the room, but Dominic’s low, hoarse “fuck” was all I heard.
I arched against him, sliding down into his lap, feeling the hard bulge pressing into me through his pants.
My body responded instantly, my breath catching, heat pooling, low and hot.
His hands gripped my hips, pulling me tighter, harder.
“Turn around,” he growled.
I rose on shaky legs, turning to straddle him. His hands found my ass, gripping hard enough to bruise. I ground against him slowly, every move calculated. I was soaked—humiliatingly so—but it only fueled the tension.
Someone nearby murmured, “I’m next,” and a hand brushed my thigh. Dominic moved before I could blink. The man’s hand was ripped away with brutal force. His attention returned to me, his hands slow now, gentle in contrast to the rage that had just flashed through him.
“Tell me your name.”
I shook my head, silent. His eyes narrowed, studying me like I was a puzzle he was close to solving.
“You want to stay anonymous, pretty thing?” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his mouth. I nodded, stomach twisting at the casual nickname. He leaned in close, his breath warm on my skin. “I want to see the face of the woman who made me lose my mind tonight.”
No. You don’t. I shook my head again.
“Then another dance,” he whispered, hand trailing my spine. “In private.”
My body betrayed me, shivering under the weight of his gaze and his touch.
His words held a hidden promise—this wouldn’t be just a dance.
Am I ready to give him more? The question twisted in my chest, cold and sharp.
But it was too late now. Dominic’s eyes bore into mine, dark and relentless, filled with a hunger that made my breath hitch. He wants me.
I swallowed hard and nodded, surrendering to the unspoken command that could shatter everything.
He rose from the couch like a shadow, lifting me effortlessly as if I weighed nothing at all.
His hands found my waist as he set me down, fingers strong and possessive.
Without a word to anyone else, he led me from the room.
We passed the guests in silence. My pulse thundered in my ears as my heels clicked softly against the marble floor.
Alice is probably wondering where I am. My guards will start looking soon.
Panic prickled at the edges of my mind. I needed to get out—fast. Before Dominic found out I’d slipped away, before it all spiraled beyond control.
We walked in tense quiet, the music fading behind us like a distant memory, swallowed by the shadows creeping through the long, cold hallway.
The air thickened, and the darkness seemed to wrap around us like a living thing.
Then it hit me. I’d been here before with Alec.
The east wing. The place where Dominic’s room lay—his lair.
My heart dropped when he stopped before a massive door, keys jingling as he unlocked it.
His eyes held a silent invitation, and I chose to enter the beast’s den.
The door closed behind us with a lock’s final click.
I stood with my back to him, confidence stripped away like my mask.
His footsteps drew near. Heat pressed against my back, his breath ghosted over my neck.
His chest settled against me, and his hands roamed, fingers grazing bare skin through the fabric of my bra.
His lips traced wet, burning kisses down my neck, teeth grazing just enough to leave marks.
One hand reached for my mask, slow and gentle, but I pushed it away, panic flaring. I shook my head.
“Aren’t you going to let me see your face?” His tongue traced my ear, voice lethal silk.
No.
I shook my head again. If he recognized my voice, it would all be over. I was embarrassingly wet for him, my body betraying every secret desire.
“Stupid little thing,” he growled, twisting my nipples until I moaned. His mouth devoured my neck, claiming me. His hands moved like he knew me better than I knew myself. Then his voice changed—darkened, edged with something cruel.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize you, dollface?”
I froze. Cold shock washed over me like ice.
No. It can’t be. He uses that nickname for everyone… right?
His hand wrapped my throat, forcing me to meet those merciless black eyes.
“You need more than a wig and a fucking mask to pull this off, Athena.”