Isabella ascended the stairs of The Gilded Ivy, her heels clicking against the polished floor. With every step, a sense of triumph filled her, anticipation curling in her chest. But as she swung open the door, her excitement plummeted.
The room was empty.
Her grip tightened around the handle, nails digging into her palm. This can't be happening.
"Find him," she barked at the nearby waiters, who were, in reality, her own men. "He couldn't have gone far. NOW."
Panic clawed at her, but she masked it well. She had meticulously planned this, and she refused to let it crumble before her eyes.
Meanwhile, in the restroom, Aurora stood by the sink, washing her hands. She exhaled sharply, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
"Woah…" she whispered to herself. "I can't believe she actually did that."
A shudder ran down her spine. If she hadn't been alert, things could have gone south real fast. What exactly did she spike the drink with? Poison? Or something even worse?
Her stomach churned at the thought. She shook her head, pressing her lips together.
That woman is dangerous.
If Isabella could go to such lengths just to get rid of her, she wouldn't hesitate to target Susan or anyone else who stood in her way. I need to act before things get worse.
She pushed open the restroom door and strode down the dimly lit hallway. First, I need to find Hazel. I can't leave her alone with Isabella lurking around.
Just as she turned a corner, a firm grip yanked her back into the shadows.
Before she could react, she was pulled into a private room. The door slammed shut behind her.
"What the—!" Her instincts kicked in. She clenched her fist and delivered a sharp kick forward.
A deep groan filled the room.
"OUCH! Damn it!"
Aurora braced herself in the darkness, ready to strike again. But then…
"Please… help me."
The voice was hoarse, strained, and most of all.....desperate.
"What?" she asked, her heartbeat still erratic.
"I said… help me," the voice rasped again.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness. The figure before her was barely standing, his breath uneven.
Shit.
"What's wrong?" she asked cautiously.
"I… I was drugged…"
Her body tensed. Drugged? Her first thought went to Isabella, but something felt off. No… if it were her, she'd still be outside, waiting for another chance to take me down.
"Who did this to you?" she demanded. "And what exactly do you expect me to do? Don't tell me you want—"
"Stop," he cut her off, struggling to keep himself upright. "Just… just get me out of here without anyone noticing. My friend will pick me up."
Aurora inhaled sharply. She didn't want to get involved. Rich people and their endless schemes this is exactly why I stay away from them. To them these schemes are nothing just a power play.
Aurora exhaled sharply. Of course. Another rich man tangled up in god-knows-what mess.
But she couldn't just walk away. No matter how much she wanted to.
She crossed her arms. "Listen, taking you outside isn't an option. You're a six-foot-something giant who looks half-dead. You'll draw too much attention." She paused before offering a solution. "But I can book this room for the night, make sure no one disturbs you until your friend arrives."
He was silent for a moment. She makes sense. And at this point, he didn't have any other option.
"F…ine," he murmured.
Aurora helped him onto the couch. She couldn't see his face clearly, but something about his voice struck a chord something oddly familiar.
Brushing off the thought, she said, "Stay here. Let your friend know you're in Suite 29. I'll handle the rest."
She left before he could thank her.
Hazel paced anxiously near the bar, her sharp eyes scanning the dance floor. The second she spotted Aurora, she bolted toward her, grabbing her arms.
"Roro! Where the hell were you? I was worried sick!"
Aurora arched a brow, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. "If something actually happened to me, you should probably worry about the idiot who tried."
Hazel gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "You absolute menace!" Then, as if a switch flipped, her nose twitched, and she suddenly leaned in closer, sniffing the air around Aurora.
Aurora blinked. "What the—?"
Hazel's eyes widened like a child discovering a secret stash of candy. "Wait a second… is that… men's cologne?"
Aurora stiffened. Shit.
Hazel's face lit up with mischievous glee. "Oh my god! Were you with a guy?" She waggled her brows. "You totally were! Roro, did you—"
"Shut up," Aurora hissed, taking a step back, her ears burning.
Hazel narrowed her eyes, lips curving into a knowing grin. "You just ran into him, huh?"
Aurora crossed her arms. "Yes."
Hazel gasped again, clutching her heart. "Oh no. I don't believe you. Did my ice queen bestie finally touch a man after years?" She fake-wiped a tear. "I'm so proud of you."
Aurora groaned. "You're impossible."
Hazel's curiosity only grew. "But wait, was he at least hot? Your type?"
Aurora gave her a deadpan look. "Hazel."
Hazel clapped her hands together. "Tall? Broad shoulders? Rich? Dangerous?" She gasped. "Oh my god, did he have veiny hands?"
"Enough." Aurora yanked her toward the exit. "Ayla's probably asleep by now."
Hazel pouted but followed, her giggles echoing behind them.
Ria was already waiting outside, standing beside the sleek black car, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings like a hawk.
Aurora sighed as she slid into the car, her mind still clouded by the events inside. That voice… It felt strangely familiar. Even though he was struggling to speak, there was something about it cold, aloof, destructive. She had heard it before.
But where?
She leaned back, staring at the dimly lit streets as they passed. This night should have ended with Isabella's plan failing. Instead, she had unknowingly crossed paths with someone powerful someone whose voice still echoed in her ears.
Aurora glanced sideways at Hazel, who had already dozed off, her head resting against the window. Shaking her head with a faint smile, she exhaled.
"Unbelievable," she muttered.
As the car sped away into the night, she had no idea just how entangled she and that voice were destined to become.
Meanwhile in The Gilded Ivy
Theron sat slumped against the couch, his entire body burning as if he had been thrown into a furnace. Every muscle in him screamed for relief, his mind clouded, instincts clawing for something anything to anchor him. His jaw clenched. He was losing control.
Then, a soft touch.
Fingertips trailed across his chest delicate, teasing, intentional.
"Darling…" a sultry voice whispered against his ear, warm breath fanning his skin.
His body reacted before his mind could process it. He grasped her waist, pulling her close. His resistance was breaking, instincts kicking in. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply....
And his body froze.
Something was wrong.
The scent is....thick, overpowering, artificial.
It clung to his senses, suffocating him. Too strong. Too different.
Then, clarity hit like a slap.
But she smelled mild, floral, soft. A fleeting whisper of lilies...subtle, almost teasing. But this? This was wrong.
A surge of rage and realization coursed through him, momentarily breaking through the drug's grip.
With a growl, he flipped their positions, pinning the woman down on the couch. His grip on her wrists was bruising, his body trembling from both the drug and sheer willpower.
"Who the hell are you?" he snarled.
The woman gasped beneath him, eyes widening in mock innocence. "Baby… what's wrong? You pulled me in here...."
"Shut up," he snapped, his breath ragged. His head spun, but his grip never loosened.
Then.....
A sharp knock at the door.
"Madam! Madam, it's an emergency!" A muffled voice called from outside.
His foggy mind barely processed the urgency, but the woman beneath him stiffened.
Her eyes darted toward the door. She clicked her tongue in irritation.
"Tch. You're lucky," she muttered, hastily fixing her dress. "We'll finish this later, babe."
With that, she slipped away into the shadows, vanishing as fast as she had appeared.
The door shut. Silence.
Then another knock. Heavy footsteps.
"Boss....boss... fuck! Theron!"
That voice familiar.
"J…ohn?" His own voice sounded foreign, weak, barely whispering.
"Yes! It's me! Hold on....shit, you look bad. I brought the doctor. You're safe now."
The last thing Theron saw before the world turned black was John's panicked face hovering over him.