Chapter 10
Aurora
The moment I step over the club’s threshold, I realize I’m going to regret it.
The bass hits my ears instantly, and the aggressive light show stabs at my eyes.
My pulse races and my head spins. I drank too much before I even got here, and now the deafening music, the vibration of the floor beneath my feet, and the sticky sweat breaking out all over my body completely disorient me. It’s all too overwhelming.
The security at the entrance let me right in, even though the club is closed for a private event.
Maybe the bouncers remembered me from when I came here with Desire.
Or maybe this fucking gray collar around my neck is the universal ticket to the bottom.
The half-naked girls grinding their hips on the laps of men in expensive suits right now are wearing the exact same ones.
Zack didn’t lie: gray is only for whores.
In the dim light, barely anyone pays me any attention except for one person.
One of the guests—a gray-haired man—fixes me with a heavy, savage stare, as if he recognizes me.
And beside him, sits Desire. His jaw is clenching so hard that tense knots roll along his cheekbones.
He slowly rises from his seat and, cutting through the crowd, heads straight toward me. The sight of him steals my breath.
“Stay away from me, liar,” I snarl when he gets close.
In my head, I’d pictured so vividly how I would throw those words in his face, turn sharply, and walk away forever back to my gray—just like this fucking collar—life.
But the alcohol made me believe the impossible.
In reality, Desire catches my wrist in a lightning-fast grip, hard enough to bruise.
“You have some very big problems.” His low growl, vibrating with rage, is barely audible over the pounding music, but it chills me to the bone.
My lips part. I forget how to breathe under his blazing stare.
For a second, I think he’ll just knock me out cold right here in his anger.
Instead, he shoves me behind his broad back.
I can’t—and don’t want to—resist him at all.
Why the hell did I even come here?! Certainly not to give myself to him again, right?
So, go on, Aurora, tell him what a womanizing liar he is!
But the words die hopelessly in my throat.
“Desire, you haven’t answered.” The gray-haired man is on his feet too. He drills my first man with a demanding stare.
“She’s mine alone. Enjoy yourself, Robert,” Desire growls.
He turns sharply, grabs me by the shoulders, and pushes me ahead of him, steering me away from prying eyes.
The threat radiating from the gray-haired Robert is so tangible and oppressive that I let Desire shove me through a side door and take the elevator up to the soundproof room with the chains.
The moment I cross the threshold, I gasp for air. One look at the metal links hanging from the ceiling makes my breath hitch, and my underwear grows damp with the memory of what he did to me here.
“You’re being a very, very bad princess tonight.
” His low, rumbling voice lashes my frayed nerves without mercy.
He steers me forward and kicks the door shut behind him, cutting us off from the pounding club music.
Desire spins me around to face him. “Not only did you break your promise and come here, but you also dared to put that fucking whore’s trash around your neck. ”
“Isn’t that the official collar of your obedient subject?” I snap back, kicking and trying to squirm out of his grasp.
“It’s the lead for a communal whore,” he growls, shaking me by the shoulders hard enough to make my teeth clack. “And you’re my princess.”
“Save those pretty fairy tales for someone else—even your fucking crazy Chloe!” I finally find a shred of courage to shout, shoving hard against his solid chest. “I’m leaving, Desire. I’ve had enough.”
He laughs viciously, lifts me off the floor, and hurls me onto the wide leather couch in the corner of the room.
“You’ll leave me feet first, babe.”
I land painfully on the springy leather but immediately, spurred by blind panic and adrenaline, scramble to my feet. Stumbling, I rush back toward the exit and yank at the metal handle. Useless. The door is secured with an electronic keypad.
Desire, meanwhile, ignores my pathetic escape attempts. He walks over to the tinted panoramic window overlooking the main hall and glances down. Judging by his tense back, he’s watching Robert and his suited companions.
“You have no idea how badly you just fucked me over tonight, Aurora.” He shakes his head, not taking his sharp gaze off the floor below. “Both of us.”
In desperation, I keep yanking at the locked handle, trying to ignore him moving into the next room, but when he comes back holding something, my breath catches. I can’t look at him.
“God, no …,” I breathe out, cornered, pressing my back against the door.
My gaze darts between the heavy black gun in his right hand and the steel handcuffs in his left.
“How nice that you’re scared of me again.” He snorts, throwing another glance at the panoramic window.
“Just fucking kill me,” I snarl, trapped. “And go to hell!”
Desire steps closer, and my thighs betray me, clenching. That reflexive movement, of course, doesn’t escape his predatory gaze.
“Looks like your pussy doesn’t agree with you.” His lips twist into a mocking smirk.
I internally curse myself and my sick body. Fear of him, for some reason, always acts as the most powerful aphrodisiac for me.
“You’re going to be punished.” He tucks the gun behind his back in a familiar, practiced motion, hiding the weapon beneath the folds of his blazer. “But not now. Right now, I need to make sure your hysterical little stunt doesn’t blow up in our faces and get us killed.”
I blink at him, trying to process his words.
“Yeah, babe, this gun isn’t for you. At least, not yet.” He grasps me and spins me around. “These handcuffs, though? Definitely.”
He slams me chest-first into the wall, yanks my arms behind my back, and snaps the bracelets around my wrists with a dull, metallic click.
“I hate you,” I whisper against the wall, burning with shame as my nipples harden and press painfully against the thin fabric of my dress.
“You’ll hate me a whole lot more very soon.” He tugs my hair, forcing my head back.
Before I can even cry out, he pulls two small white pills from his pocket, shoves them deep into my mouth, then clamps his palm over my lips.
“And then you’ll whimper and beg me to fuck you. But for now—sleep, my bad princess. I still have to clean up your mess.”
I clamp my throat shut, refusing to swallow, but the bitter pills dissolve right on my tongue, seeping into my bloodstream. I whine as sticky terror and helplessness wash over me until he leans in and kisses my cheek almost gently, licking away a hot tear.
The medicine works frighteningly fast. My legs grow weak and start trembling. Before I sink into darkness, he catches my limp body and lays me on the same leather couch. Through the hazy fog, I feel this sick bastard gently brush strands of hair from my tear-stained face.
“I hate it when it gets dirty, you know that …”