When the devil plays a game

Ariana's POV

It had been days since the shower incident, and my father hadn't said a thing. Not a hint, not a sideways comment. That could only mean one thing—Jaxon hadn't told him.

Relief should've made me lighter, but it didn't. My father's silence on that one topic didn't stop him from finding new ways to remind me I was a disappointment. He never ran out of lines.

Meanwhile, Riley and Jerry were in Hollywood, smiling like they'd just won the lottery. My phone kept buzzing with their updates—her in glittery dresses, him holding her waist in front of red carpets. My mother was furious at Jerry for using me, but she knew as well as I did there was nothing we could do. Jerry was old money. We weren't even new money.

Not that his money was what made my stomach twist.

It was something else entirely.

I had slept with Jaxon Devereaux. A legend. A god.

I told myself I'd forget it. Pretend it never happened. But I couldn't and one night, curiosity won. I searched his name online not because i didn't already know who he was but because I really wanted to know how fucked I was.

My screen filled with numbers so big they didn't even feel real. His wealth, his reach… pictures of him with kings, presidents, queens. He'd been everywhere. The only child of his mother, and ten years ago he'd taken over her empire—after building his own multi-billion-dollar company.

He was the kind of rich that didn't just open doors—it built the buildings those doors were in.

And he was twenty years older than me.

I stared at the screen for a long time before shutting my laptop. I didn't know if I felt more stupid, shocked, or… something else. Whatever it was, it stayed with me.

For days I avoided my father, my mother's questions, and my brother's teasing. And I was dying silently but, out of nowhere, an old friend called with a job offer.

"It's for an older businessman," she said. "Hardly home. He needs someone educated to help run things. It's easy work, but he's… you know. Old-school."

The job sounded disrespectful. I went to college and made good grades, but the pay made my decision for me. I didn't even ask for the details. I wanted out of my father's house so badly I would've cleaned chimneys.

When I told my father, he actually looked pleased. Of course, I didn't give him the real job description. I told him I was going to be a secretary for a company. That was enough for him to nod like I'd finally done something right.

I went shopping and packed quickly. Hugged my mother and brother goodbye. Then I climbed into the waiting car.

As we drove away, I pressed my forehead to the window and whispered to myself: This is a new life. Leave the old one behind.

The journey was long—almost four hours. By the time we turned onto a private road, my legs were stiff already but somehow they became lighter when I saw the building from afar.

A mansion. No, not a mansion—a palace.

It was the kind of place where even kings and queens would die for. It was a stone tower, endless windows, a driveway wide enough for two lanes of traffic.

In the yard, there was a statue. I stepped toward it, ready to read the name carved into the base, but a butler appeared as if from thin air.

"This way, miss."

I nodded and followed obediently.

Inside was even more overwhelming. Marble floors that caught the light, chandeliers dripping with crystals, paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum. He led me to my room—a space bigger than my old apartment.

"This is your room,'' he said.

I forced a smile and nodded. He left.

I freshened up, telling myself this was the start of something better. Then my phone buzzed.

I thought it was my friend so I picked it up only for the smile on my face to vanish. It was Riley.

She'd sent me a photo of herself and Jerry, surrounded by celebrities. He was grinning, holding her close. My chest tightened. Jerry had never once taken me anywhere near his wealthy circle, and now he was showing her off like she was a prize he'd won.

I dropped the phone onto the bed and walked to the mirror.

"I was just a girl," I whispered. "But now I'm a woman. No more mistake."

I pulled out the most mature clothes I owned. I even tried makeup. But halfway through, I wiped it off. That had never been me.

Night came quickly and the owners of the house had not yet returned. And there was nothing to show the identity of the owners of the house.

I was beginning to think that this was a scam. But the money was just too much for me to leave without checking facts… I couldn't risk it. Besides, if I return back home my father would never let me see the next sunrise so I would rather die here and make him feel a little guilty.

In order to pass time, I decided to cook. My friend had mentioned that was one reason I got the job—the man wanted someone who could "cook like heaven."

The kitchen was enormous, the kind of place you could get lost in. I set to work but the fridge was almost empty. So I had to make do with what I had.

By the time I was done, I smiled, picking up my phone to take a photo of my dish.

"Thanks mom," I muttered, picking up the plates.

I carried the first dish toward the dining room—then the front door opened.

Finally.

I smoothed my clothes, took a breath, and stepped forward, my greeting rehearsed in my head.

The butler walked in. "Thank goodness you are here," he smiled, looking towards the table. "You cooked?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Figured I could start my job immediately."

He nodded pleased. "Mr Devereaux will be proud."

I nodded but froze. Mr who?

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked but before he could reply. The door opened and we slowly turned back.

"Good evening, Mr Devereaux," he greeted.

The words died on my tongue. It was like someone pulled the plug of my brain.

"You…" I muttered.

Mr Devereaux… Jaxon Devereaux was my Boss.