Chapter Four

“No. It couldn’t be.” Nyla staggered back, staring at the face in front of her.

Sharp jaw with dark hair. The same arrogant mouth she remembered from years ago.

Adriel Stetson.

The name crashed through her like a storm.

Adriel Stetson known for his bullies during Highschool. High school corridors. Cruel jokes. Tripped books. Whispered insults that had once made her dread walking into class.

The boy who had turned her teenage years into a daily nightmare.

Now a man so powerful and sitting in front of her with his defenses stripped away.

Her hands flew to her mouth.

“All this time, it was you.”She breathed. 

The room suddenly felt too small and too hot for her. Everything made sense—and nothing did.

The way he watched her. The way he never spoke. The strange intensity in his gaze shows that he had recognized her and had been toying with her.

Anger, humiliation, and disbelief tangled together inside her chest.

Nyla couldn't gather her thoughts, if word of this gets out she'll be ruined. To be on a severe side, she quickly takes some pictures of him unmasked and vulnerable and keeps it safe. That was her only survival for now.

Nyla carefully placed the mask back over his face, forcing her hands to be steady. Then she grabbed her things and fled the room before he could wake.

Finally free, she leaned against the hallway wall and tried to breathe.

“Adriel Stetson. The masked lord.” The name keeps repeating in her head.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a message from Selene about tomorrow’s schedule.

Nyla stared at it, her mind spinning.

She should quit. Run. Never go back.

But the rent was due in two weeks, and her father still needed money.

And now she carried a secret that could change everything.

Nyla lifted her gaze to the glowing sign of The Velvet Embrace.

“What have I gotten myself into?” she whispered.

Throughout the night Nyla couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face again—confident, cold, familiar.

She remembered too much.

She could remember Adriel’s face laughing as his friends mocked her secondhand shoes. Adriel spilling juice on her project and calling it an accident and him telling half the class that she only got good grades because she begged teachers.

Back then her family had still been wealthy, her father was successful and her mother was healthy. But even with money, high school had been its own battlefield and Adriel had ruled it like a king.

Nyla sat up in bed, fists clenched.

He thought he could buy silence now, just like he used to buy loyalty with expensive gifts and flashy cars? Not anymore.

A slow, dangerous thought began to grow in her mind. If he had secrets, she had power.

……

The next evening, she returned to the club with a plan.

She moved through her shift in a haze, barely hearing the music or the chatter around her. All she could think about was the man behind the mask and the years of humiliation he had never apologized for.

When Selene told her Maestro wanted to see her privately, Nyla didn’t hesitate.

This time, she walked into the room with purpose.

Adriel sat exactly where he always did—mask in place, posture calm, confidence radiating off him like heat.

“Sit,” he said.

“I’ll stand,” Nyla replied coolly.

Something in her tone must have warned him, because his head tilted slightly.

“Is something wrong?”

She stared at him and the memory of last night burned in her chest.

Instead of answering, she stepped closer and yanked the mask from his face.

Adriel shot up instantly. “What are you doing?”

“Relax, no one’s here to see.” Nyla said, holding the mask at her side. 

His expression hardened. “Put that back.”

“Why? Afraid someone might recognize you?” She asked.

Realization flickered across his face. “You took it off last night.”

“I did.”

His jaw clenched. “You had no right.”

Nyla let out a humorless laugh. “No right? That’s funny coming from you.”

Adriel stared at her, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“High school,” she said sharply. “Does that ring a bell?”

Silence.

Then his eyes narrowed. “Nyla?”

“So you do remember,” she whispered.

The room went very still.

“You look… different,” he said slowly.

“Life does that,” Nyla replied. “Especially when people like you make it miserable.”

Adriel straightened. “Whatever happened back then—”

“Don’t,” she cut in. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

She stepped closer, anger finally spilling out.

“You humiliated me. You made jokes about my family. You turned half the school against me for fun.”

He frowned. “It was years ago.”

“Not for me, I lived with it.”Nyla shot back. 

A tense silence stretched between them.

Finally Adriel spoke. “What do you want?”

The question she had been waiting for.

Nyla pulled out her phone and held it up. On the screen was the picture she had taken the night before—his face, unmasked and vulnerable.

His expression darkened.

“You took a photo,” he said quietly.

“I did.”

“Delete it.”

“Not a chance.”

His voice turned cold. “You have no idea what kind of danger you’re putting yourself in.”

“Funny, that’s exactly how I felt every time you opened your mouth in school.” Nyla replied. 

Adriel took a step toward her. “If that picture gets out—”

“What? Your perfect reputation crumbles? The mysterious Maestro exposed as Adriel Stetson?” She challenged him.

He grabbed her wrist suddenly, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make his point.

“I’m not someone you want as an enemy,” he warned.

Nyla didn’t flinch. “Let go of me.”

For a long moment they stared at each other.

Then he released her.

“What do you want?” he asked again, calmer this time.

“I want you to know you don’t control me,” Nyla said. “Not anymore.”

Adriel exhaled slowly. “And if I refuse to play along?”

“Then I expose you,” she replied. “Simple.”

His eyes darkened. “If you do that, you’ll regret it.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Nyla folded her arms. “Good. I’m not scared of you.”

“Maybe you should be,” he said quietly. “People have disappeared for less.”

A chill slid down her spine.

“Did you just threaten to kill me?” she asked.

“I’m warning you,” Adriel replied. “Leave this alone.”

“No.”

Anger flashed across his face. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe,” Nyla said. “But it’s my mistake to make.”

Before he could respond, her phone rang.

The sharp sound shattered the tension.

She glanced at the screen.

Dad.

Her heart skipped. He never called this late.

Nyla answered quickly. “Hello?”

“Nyla, you need to come home right now.” Her father said, voice shaky. 

Fear tightened her chest. “What’s wrong?”

“Just come. Please.” He muttered and the line went dead.

She looked up at Adriel and suddenly became distracted. “I have to go.”

“We’re not finished,” he said.

“Yes, we are.”

She turned and headed for the door.

“Nyla,” he called after her but she ignored him.

Nyla quickly enters the taxi already waiting as she gets out. The ride home felt endless.

Her father’s voice kept replaying in her head—frightened, urgent.

Something was wrong. She could feel it.

When she finally reached their street, an uneasy silence greeted her.

The front door of their apartment hung slightly open.

Nyla’s stomach dropped.

“Dad?” she called, stepping inside.

No answer.

The living room was bare. Completely empty. 

No couch. No television. No dining table.

Even the curtains were gone.

“What…?” she whispered.

She ran to the bedroom and it was empty.

The Kitchen? Empty.

Her heart pounded wildly. “Dad!”

Still nothing.

All their belongings were gone and her father wasn’t home.

Nyla stood alone in the hollow apartment and cold fear creeped through her veins.

“Where is my dad?” She asked.