Elara's POV

The boutique was the kind of place where they didn't display price tags because if you had to ask, you couldn't afford it.

 Victoria swept through like she owned it, snapping her fingers at sales associates who scrambled to accommodate her.

"Try this."

 She thrust a red dress at me, her smile never reaching her eyes. "Damian loves red."

Marcus stood by the entrance, his expression unreadable.

 I caught his eye, looking for some sign of alliance, but he remained professionally blank.

In the dressing room, I stared at my reflection. 

The dress was beautiful and completely see through in the right light. This wasn't about making me look good. This was about humiliation.

"Well?" Victoria's voice came from outside. "Let's see it."

I stepped out, arms crossed over my chest. "It's too revealing."

"Nonsense. You have a beautiful body. Use it." Victoria circled me, adjusting the straps. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, just hard enough to hurt. 

"That's all you have, really. Your looks. Damian will tire of them eventually."

"Why do you care?" I met her gaze in the mirror. "What am I to you?"

Something flickered in her eyes. Satisfaction? "You're a means to an end, dear. Nothing more."

"What end?"

She laughed, the sound brittle. "Try the next dress. The blue one."

As I turned to go back, Victoria's phone rang. 

She answered, her voice dropping low. "Yes... No, she's right here... I'm handling it... By the end of the month, I promise."

I pretended not to listen, but every nerve was alert. 

Who was she talking to? And what was supposed to happen by month's end?

When I emerged in the blue dress, equally inappropriate, Victoria was scrolling through her phone, distracted. I saw Marcus watching her with an expression I couldn't quite read. 

Suspicion?

"That's better." Victoria barely looked up. "We'll take it. And the red one. 

And those three." She gestured vaguely at dresses I hadn't even tried.

"I don't need."

"Damian's paying. Consider it compensation for services rendered." Her smile turned cruel. "Or services you will render.

 I assume he's already sampled the merchandise?"

Heat flooded my face. "That's none of your business."

"Everything about you is my business. I'm the one who found you, after all."

I froze. "What?"

Victoria's eyes widened, just slightly. She'd said too much.

 "I mean, I'm the one who helped arrange your father's debt payment. Someone had to handle the logistics."

Liar. The word screamed in my head, but I swallowed it down. "How considerate."

Back at the penthouse, I was surprised to find Damian home early.

 He stood by the windows, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, nursing a glass of amber liquid. He turned when we entered, his eyes immediately finding mine.

"Did you enjoy your shopping trip?" His voice was carefully neutral.

"It was enlightening," I said, my own double meaning clear.

Victoria set the shopping bags down with a flourish. "She was perfectly behaved. A credit to your training already, Damian."

Something dark crossed his face. "Leave us."

"But I thought."

"Now, Victoria."

She left, but not before shooting me a look that promised consequences. Marcus followed, closing the door behind them.

Silence stretched between us, thick and dangerous. Damian took a long drink, his eyes never leaving mine.

"What did she say to you?" he asked finally.

"Does it matter? You own me, remember? My thoughts aren't my own either."

He crossed the room in three strides, grabbing my wrist and pulling me against him.

 "Don't play games with me, Elara. What. Did. She. Say?"

"That you'll tire of me. That your last girlfriend ended up in a psychiatric ward. That I'm nothing but a body for you to use." 

I lifted my chin defiantly. "Was she wrong?"

His grip tightened, just shy of pain. 

"My past relationships are none of your concern."

"But I am your current relationship. Don't I deserve to know what happened to the woman before me?"

"There was no woman before you." 

His free hand cupped my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Not like this. Not living here. Not..."

"Not what?"

He kissed me instead of answering. But this kiss was different from the others, desperate, almost vulnerable. His hands were everywhere, sliding into my hair, down my back, pulling me impossibly closer. 

I tasted whiskey and something darker on his tongue, something that felt like a need.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.

"She's lying to you," he said against my lips. "Victoria tells everyone lies. It's what she does."

"Then tell me the truth."

"The truth?" His laugh was bitter. "The truth is I don't know what's real anymore. I don't know if this." he gestured between us.

 "Is real or if it's just another manipulation."

Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and his entire demeanor shifted. Cold. Controlled. The vulnerable moment vanished like it never existed.

"Get dressed. We have a charity gala tonight." He was already walking toward his office.

 "Wear the red dress. And Elara? Don't embarrass me."

The door slammed behind him.

I stood there, my lips still tingling from his kiss, my mind racing. He'd almost told me something important. Almost let me see beneath the ice.

But almost wasn't enough. And tonight, surrounded by his world, I'd be more trapped than ever.

My phone buzzed. Another text from the unknown number: ‘Tonight. Gala. Third floor bathroom. 10 PM. Come alone. Answers waiting.’

My hands shook as I deleted it.

What was I walking into?