Julian Vance's smile was a beautiful, predatory thing. He took a step closer in the now-empty corridor outside the auction room, cornering Ariana against the wall. The ambient noise of the party felt a world away.
"Don't play coy with me, Ariana," he murmured, his voice a low thrum of amusement. "That ledger contains information that could be very damaging to Damien Black. So, the question is, are you stealing from him, or for him? Either way, I find myself incredibly intrigued."
Ariana's mind raced. Julian was a shark who smelled blood in the water. One wrong word and he would tear her apart. Her hand tightened on the discreet case containing the ledger.
"My business is my own, Julian," she said, forcing a calm she did not feel. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
She tried to step around him, but he blocked her path, placing a hand on the wall beside her head. His charm evaporated, replaced by a glint of cold steel in his eyes. "I don't think so. You and I aren't finished. In fact, we're just beginning—"
He was cut off by the sudden, silent appearance of two men behind him. They hadn't made a sound. Dressed in sharp, identical black suits with earpieces, they moved with the unnerving efficiency of ghosts. Damien's personal security.
They didn't look at Julian. Their focus was entirely on Ariana.
"Miss Lin," the lead guard said, his voice respectful but utterly devoid of warmth. "Mr. Black has sent your car. He requests your presence at the manor."
Julian's face tightened. He was a powerful man, but in this moment, he was utterly irrelevant. The guards' complete dismissal of him was a more profound insult than any threat. They hadn't come to fight him. They had come to collect property.
"It seems your leash is shorter than I thought," Julian hissed at Ariana, his eyes flashing with a mix of fury and fascination. He took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Don't worry. We'll talk again. Soon."
He melted back toward the party, leaving Ariana alone with her new escorts. She was not saved. She was merely being transferred from one cage to another.
The ride back to Blackwood Manor was a silent, suffocating journey into the heart of her own dread. She clutched the ledger on her lap, her one small victory feeling more like a failure with every passing second. The locket against her skin felt like it was burning. A tracker. He had been watching her the entire time. He had let her escape, let her play her little game, knowing he could pull the chain whenever he pleased.
Her supposed act of rebellion was nothing more than a structured exercise he had permitted. The thought was so deeply humiliating, so terrifying in its implications, that it made her feel sick.
When the car pulled up to the mansion, the great front doors swung open to reveal Mrs. Davenport, her face an impassive mask of disapproval.
"Mr. Black is waiting for you," she said, her tone icy.
Ariana expected to be led to the study for a lecture, or to her room for punishment. Instead, Mrs. Davenport led her down a corridor she hadn't seen before, to the hidden security room behind the library.
Damien was standing in the center of the room, his back to the door. He was staring at the large central monitor, where a single, pulsing red dot marked the Elysian Gallery. He didn't turn around when she entered.
Ariana's heart pounded, a frantic drum in the dead silence. She braced herself for the explosion, for the rage she deserved for her flagrant defiance.
The silence stretched, each second a new lifetime of anxiety.
Finally, he spoke, his voice dangerously calm. He turned his head slightly, his gaze still fixed on the screen.
"Close the door."
She did as he commanded, the soft click of the latch sounding like a death knell. He turned to face her fully. His expression wasn't angry. It wasn't triumphant. It was... neutral. The calm at the center of a hurricane. It was the most terrifying expression she had ever seen.
She clutched the ledger to her chest like a shield.
He looked at it, then back at her face. He took a step forward.
And then he said the words that shattered her world all over again.
"Good work," he said, his voice even. "I knew you could get it."
He gestured to the small conference table in the corner of the room.
"Now," Damien said, a chillingly professional tone in his voice. "Let's see what you've brought me. Our real work is just beginning."