The Rules of the Game.

Aria POV.

I stared unseeingly at my blank phone screen, stunned at Daniel’s words and the way he abruptly ended the call.

He knew. Or at least had a hunch of my plans for revenge.

The mere thought had my guts swirling. How long had he caught on? Daniel had probably seen through my bluff. The mere thought of that had me groaning, embarrassed beyond words. “Oh God.”

My fingers immediately dialled Daniel’s number before I was aware. No, shit!

“I knew you’d call back.” Daniel purred with hidden amusement, voice liquid like honey.

I rolled my eyes at his smug tone. “What do you mean by those words? I’m not playing games with you…or anyone.”

Daniel chuckled softly. “If you say so, darling.”

Again with that endearment. I didn’t even want to think about why and how what it did to me physically and emotionally. Blinking away my thoughts, I cleared my throat gently. “What do you want, Daniel?”

There was a brief pause like he hadn’t thought I’d go straight to the point before he answered quietly, “I want the same thing you want.”

I frowned slightly at that. Revenge?

“I want to keep on playing this little game between us.” He explained as if sensing my confusion.

My stomach did this flip-flop motion and my face turned hot. “Oh…”

He chuckled deeply. “But we’ll play by my own rules.”

My body went limp against the couch, heaving out a sigh. Daniel thought I was coming onto him. He didn’t know about my plan. I mean, he wasn’t wrong — for the plan to work, seducing him must work.

“W—what are your rules then?” I asked, my voice coming out huskier than I wanted.

“Obedience, loyalty, discretion.” He answered.

“You want a puppet.” I muttered.

“No. I don’t need to break you, to want you. Not yet.” Daniel murmured softly a moment later.

I shivered at the casual dominance in his voice, filled with the thrilling promise of danger and darkness.

“I’m a simple man with simple rules.” Daniel continued. “What do you think, Aria? Are my rules acceptable?”

I stared at the melted tub of ice-cream, thinking about his words and my next thought. Everything about this screamed wrong and dangerous, and yet I was hooked on the darkness that was Daniel Kane. What’s the harm? At least this situation is a win-win for us. “I accept.”

Daniel growled in approval. “Good girl.”

My fingers twitched around my phone. “D—don’t call me that.”

“Call you what? A good girl?” He rumbled out a short laugh. “Aren’t you my good girl?”

Oh God, I’m in too deep! “Good night, Daniel.” I said abruptly, ending the call, face scalding hot with shame and excitement. He called me a pet name and I folded. Shit.

Four days after that conversation with Daniel, I got a message from him while I was about get off work. It was an invite to an event. Immediately after I had received the invite, my phone buzzed. Daniel was calling.

“Daniel.” I said huskily in greeting. “What’s the invite about?”

“I need you tonight.” He answered calmly.

My steps faltered, my chest suddenly tight. “Why?”

“There’s a business meeting tonight…and I need you to be my date. You should be getting off work right now so that should give you enough time to prepare. The dinner begins by 8:30pm.”

Annoyance heated my blood but I felt tongue-tied.

“I know it’s a short notice, and I’m sorry for that.” There was a hesitant pause at the other end of the call. “Are you angry with me?”

I huffed a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “No, I’m not. But I don’t appreciate abrupt decisions without consulting with me first.”

“Of course. I’m sorry, Aria.” He muttered apologetically. “Your attire and accessories will be delivered to you by 6pm and I’ll pick you up an hour from then. Is that okay with you?”

I hummed in agreement then ended the call with Daniel after concluding other details with a sigh.

True to his word, the package arrived on time and so did the car. Only when I slid into car, Daniel wasn’t there. As if seeing my confusion the chauffeur met my gaze in the rear view mirror and said, “Mr. Kane asked me to bring you personally to the location.”

My blood boiled on the way to dinner and didn’t stop as the chauffeur rolled into an exquisite mansion sinking of wealth, neither did it reduce as he opened the door. Daniel of course, stood a little distance away, chatting amicably with a group of people obviously fawning over him.

The sight increased my anger.

Daniel stiffened briefly as if sensing my presence, then turned to my direction, raking predatory eyes gleaming with desire over me before strolling to where I stood. “You look ravishing as always, darling.”

I glared at him. “Don’t call me that.” I hissed, darting glances around to make sure we weren’t being watched before glowering at him, ignoring the bundle of nerves I currently felt.

Eyes glittering in mild amusement, his arm snaked around my waist and pulled me flush against his powerful frame. “But you do look ravishing, Aria.” He whispered seductive and dark against my ear. “I need you to be your charming, feisty self.” He gently hooked a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his warm gaze while studying me intently. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

I cursed inwardly at the blush staining my face at the endearment and glared at him, annoyed at the knowing smile on Daniel’s handsome face. “Fine. But you owe me a fucking explanation afterwards.” I seethed, striding away from him.

The dinner wasn’t a candlelit affair—it was war dressed in silk and expensive wine. Daniel’s “allies” wore their smiles like masks, every toast sharp as a blade hidden under the table. I sat at his side, dressed to kill and playing the role of his date, though it felt less like decoration and more like partnership.

‎

‎Daniel didn’t fawn over me like he did with other women; he leaned in, shared the floor, let me deliver quips that earned tight smirks and wary glances from men twice my age. I could feel the shift—he wasn’t shielding me, he was unleashing me. And that made me feel dangerous too.

‎But even as I raised my glass and matched their probing questions with cool, rehearsed lies and fake smiles, something prickled at the back of my neck. My eyes darted once, twice—nothing but polished walls and waiters gliding like shadows. Yet it clung to me, the crawling certainty that someone’s gaze lingered too long, unseen.

‎Daniel noticed. His hand brushed mine beneath the table, grounding, possessive. “Focus,” he murmured without moving his lips. I forced a smile, laughed at some backhanded compliment thrown my way, but my pulse wouldn’t slow.

‎

‎Because I knew this wasn’t just dinner. And the eyes I felt on me—they weren’t Daniel’s allies.

‎Someone was watching from the dark.

I shrugged off the paranoid feeling and tried concentrating on the dessert and flirting with the portly man next to me, one of Daniel’s associates — Donald Ashton, a notorious womanizer and a shameless flirt with a receding hairline — with a charming smile.

“You have a sharp tongue.” One drawled, lazily swirling his wine.

“Oh, thank God. I’d hate to be a bore.” I replied cheerfully, flashing a smile.

Daniel’s grip on my knee tightened briefly, drawing my attention to him watching me. “What’s wrong?”

He watched me intently before his cryptic gaze flickered to his glass of wine, running a finger slowly and repeatedly over the slender stem. “You’re enjoying this.”

I gave a light shrug. “Maybe I am.” I murmured, sipping my wine before licking my lips, my body heating as his eyes followed the movement, looking lost and hungry. “Are you jealous?”

Daniel tore his gaze reluctantly from my lips and met my gaze with a soft, sinful smile then shrugged. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.”

I parted my lips to deliver a cutting remark but was interrupted the rapid sounds of silverware clinking against glass, drawing the attention of everyone seated to Liam Taylor — yes, the same douchebag from earlier.

Liam’s gaze briefly clashed with mine before he quickly averted his gaze.

I smiled at that.

I never told Daniel about our conversation from the last party. Didn’t see the need to. Daniel was probably aware of his enemies and the fact that they grew in number from day by day. I’m sure he could handle himself.

Maybe I would tell him later, Maybe I wouldn’t.

Liam raised his glass of wine towards Daniel in a salute. “I would like to give a toast to our host for this delightful dinner.” Liam’s smirk was too oily, his eyes too sharp. “To Daniel Kane.” He said smoothly. ““Every king sets the rules. Every pawn thinks they can win.”

The table chuckled, but the air around me tightened like a noose around my neck as Liam’s gaze slid back to me with a smile, slow and deliberate, “Does she even know who you really are?”