Isabella's POV
Shards of broken glass littered the floor, reflecting the dim glow of the chandelier. The room reeked of spilled alcohol and rage.
Isabella staggered, another bottle clutched in her trembling hand. Her vision blurred, not from the liquor but from the burning humiliation seething inside her.
She had been forced to bow down. Forced to cooperate with those bitches just to secure the deal. The memory of their smug faces made her insides churn with fury.
"I hate this! I hate this! I HATE THIS!" she screamed, flinging the bottle across the room. It smashed against the wall, the sound a perfect echo of her shattering pride.
Her secretary, standing silently nearby, didn't flinch. She merely sighed and bent down to clean up the mess, as if this was just another routine night in Isabella Wilson's household.
Isabella's glare snapped to her.
"What kind of secretary are you?" she sneered. "You stand there cleaning up my mess while I am drowning in my downfall!"
Her secretary looked up, unfazed. "Ms. Wilson, my job is to assist you. But let's not forget, I am one of your father's most loyal people. You think I would do anything to harm you?"
"SHUT UP!" Isabella barked. "You only care about him. About his reputation! Not me. Not my humiliation!"
"Miss Wilson." The woman exhaled as if she were dealing with a petulant child. "Thanks to your cooperation, the project has reached the final stage. The initial contract is signed. The final negotiations, which require both CEOs, will take place in a week. This is a victory for you."
"A victory?" Isabella's laughter was sharp, mocking. "And what about me? What about the insults I had to take?"
Her secretary's expression didn't change. "Every revenge needs the perfect time. Acting recklessly will only cost you your own head. Besides… you've seen Aurora. Do you really think she's someone you can handle alone?"
That made Isabella pause.
She hated to admit it, but Aurora's presence alone made her feel small. Powerless. Even invisible. Isabella had never felt that before.
But she didn't have to handle her alone.
Her secretary smirked slightly. "Luckily for you, I have some useful information."
"What is it?" Isabella snapped.
"Normally, Aurora's movements are a secret. But this time, we found out she and her dear friend, Hazel Nova, will be going to The Gilded Ivy tomorrow night."
Isabella's eyes gleamed with sudden interest. "And?"
The woman reached into her pocket, pulling out a tiny vial of clear liquid. "This," she said, rolling it between her fingers, "is a special drug. Any woman who takes it will crave men. Not a man—men. And lucky for you, we have our people at the pub. Even if things go wrong, we can clean up the mess."
A slow, wicked smile spread across Isabella's lips.
For the first time since her humiliation, she felt powerful.
Aurora Adkins had no idea what was coming for her.
At The Gilded Ivy
The neon glow of The Gilded Ivy pulsed like a heartbeat in the night. The air was thick with perfume, alcohol, and the promise of reckless indulgence.
Aurora stepped inside, her heels clicking against the polished floor. The bodycon dress Hazel had chosen hugged her curves perfectly, an effortless balance between elegance and danger. She wasn't just beautiful, she was untouchable.
Heads turned the moment they entered. Eyes lingered, some with admiration, others with darker intentions.
"Come on, Roro!" Hazel grinned, dragging her forward.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Aurora muttered. "But this dress is impossible to walk in."
"Beauty demands sacrifice," Hazel quipped.
Aurora smirked. "How do you always come up with things like that?"
Hazel shrugged. "I can't help it."
Aurora chuckled, shaking her head as they made their way to the bar.
"Who is she?"
"She's stunning…"
"Damn, she looks expensive."
Aurora ignored them. She was used to attention—but not this kind.
"Shots!" Hazel announced, slamming her palm on the counter.
They started with whiskey shots. Then another round. And another.
"Yoo, you're a natural, babe," Hazel teased after their third shot.
Aurora smirked. "I handle my liquor well."
Hazel threw an arm around her. "You have inhuman alcohol tolerance. It's unfair!"
Aurora rolled her eyes but let out a soft laugh.
The bartender placed two glasses of whiskey and said "This is on the house for the beautiful ladies" and smirked.
Aurora lifted her glass.. but before she could take a sip, something felt off.
A vague feeling of unease crept into her bones.
Her gaze flickered to the side and met Isabella's.
She was watching. Smirking.
Aurora's fingers curled around the glass. Was this a coincidence?
Her instincts screamed no.
Slowly, she set the glass down. Untouched.
A flicker of something passed through Isabella's eyes…panic? Annoyance?
Aurora didn't know what Isabella had planned, but she had no intention of playing into it.
She turned away.
Hazel grinned, oblivious to the silent battle. "Let's dance!"
Aurora let herself be dragged to the dance floor.
The music pulsed, the bass reverberating through her body. Hazel danced wildly, while Aurora moved with effortless grace.
People watched.
Men whispered.
Even through the dim lights, Aurora felt it again.
A pair of eyes.
Not Isabella's.
Someone else.
She turned sharply.
Isabella stood nearby, whiskey in hand, a tight smile on her lips.
"Hello, Ms. Adkins." Her voice was smooth, almost too polite.
Aurora's expression remained unreadable. "Ms. Wilson."
"I just wanted to say hi," Isabella said, though her fingers twitched around the glass.
Aurora held her gaze.
For a fleeting moment, panic flashed in Isabella's eyes.
She's lying.
Before Aurora could respond, Isabella suddenly lifted her whiskey. "I know we had some bad blood before. Why don't we drink and forget the past?"
Aurora's lips curled into something that was not quite a smile.
"Ms. Wilson," she said coolly, "I completely understand that you want to make amends. But this is my private time. Any business including a drinking party has to go through my secretary."
With that, she turned and walked away.
Shit.
Isabella's fingers curled into fists. The drugged drink remained untouched.
Her perfect plan had crumbled before her eyes.
But just as frustration burned through her, she caught sight of something else.
A man.
Sitting in the private VIP lounge, separated from the main floor by a tinted glass panel.
Her breath hitched.
Theron.
He was alone.
He hadn't noticed her.
A slow, malicious grin spread across her face.
She waved over a waiter and whispered something into his ear.
She smirked as she watched the waiter walk into Theron's lounge, carrying a drink.
Moments later, Theron lifted the glass.
He took a sip.
Isabella grinned.
Tonight, Theron Drakos will be mine.
Her phone buzzed. She stepped into a quieter corner.
"Dad," she whispered.
"What is it?"
"I found Theron. Alone."
A pause. Then, "What are you planning?"
"My usual tactics didn't work on him before. But tonight… I plan to make sure he has no choice but to take me."
Silence. Then her father's sharp tone. "Isabella, this is a dangerous move. If you fail…"
"I won't fail." Her grip on the phone tightened. "Once tonight is over, you'll secure a marriage alliance between me and him."
Another pause.
Then approval.
"Do it."
A victorious smirk played on her lips.
As she turned back toward Theron's lounge, her breath quickened. She could see it in his movements. The subtle shift in his posture. The way his fingers twitched. The drug was kicking in.
Her pulse raced with anticipation.
Tonight, you will be mine, Theron.
She licked her lips.
And there's nothing you can do about it.