Chapter 5: The Gala

Aria had never felt more exposed.

The grand ballroom of the Manhattan Skyline Hotel glittered with chandeliers, laughter, and the sound of crystal glasses clinking against each other. The city’s elite had gathered for the Wolfe Foundation’s annual charity gala, and she—Aria Sinclair Wolfe—was the most watched woman in the room.

Not just because she was new to their world.

Not just because her last name had changed overnight.

But because she was standing beside him—Sebastian Wolfe.

He wore a black tuxedo, sharp as sin, his posture regal, his presence impossible to ignore. Her arm rested delicately on his, their bodies close, a perfect picture of dominance and elegance. But Aria knew better. This wasn’t just a show. This was a statement.

Sebastian Wolfe wasn’t just married again.

He was married to her—a woman half his age, once the daughter of his fiercest competitor, now his possession.

And everyone wanted to know why.

“You’re drawing attention,” Sebastian murmured under his breath, his lips brushing her ear as they approached the stage.

She smiled, her voice a soft whisper. “You married me for attention, didn’t you?”

“I married you to silence the board.”

“You didn’t silence them,” she said with a smirk. “You gave them something to talk about for the next ten years.”

He glanced down at her, eyes glinting with something darker—approval, amusement… possession. “Let them talk.”

They stopped at the base of the staircase leading to the main stage. In just a few moments, Sebastian would deliver his speech, present the foundation’s latest figures, and pose with Aria for the cameras.

But she wasn’t thinking about the press.

She was thinking about the way his fingers had brushed her thigh under the table during dinner. The way his eyes had roamed her body when she stepped out in the silver, slit-up-to-there gown he’d had delivered the night before. The way his voice had dropped to a growl when he whispered, “That dress is going to be the death of me.”

The room might see a billionaire power couple.

But she saw something else entirely.

A predator and his willing prey.

“You look like you’re about to eat me alive,” she whispered as they ascended the stage.

Sebastian turned his head slightly, just enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. “That’s because I am. The moment this event ends, you’re mine.”

Her skin erupted in goosebumps.

The crowd erupted in polite applause as they reached the podium.

Sebastian’s speech was clean, practiced, inspiring. The man could command a room like a born king. Every sentence was measured. Every glance calculated. But when he took Aria’s hand near the end and said, “And I’m proud to share this moment with my wife,” his voice shifted.

Softer. Possessive.

Real.

And the way he looked at her—like she was a treasure no one else could touch—made her legs tremble beneath her gown.

The applause swelled.

Photographers clicked.

But all Aria could think about was the pressure of Sebastian’s thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. It was subtle. Innocent. And yet her body was already betraying her.

By the time they exited the stage, her thighs were clenched, her breathing uneven, and her skin flushed with heat.

“You did well,” he said as they reached the corner of the room.

“So did you.”

Sebastian leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Now I get my reward.”

Her breath caught. “What kind of reward?”

“The kind that has you on your knees.”

Her pulse spiked. “Here?”

“No,” he growled. “But don’t tempt me.”

A second later, he took her hand and led her out a side door. No words. No explanations.

The moment they stepped into the private lounge behind the ballroom, the door clicked shut—and the mask dropped.

Sebastian backed her against the wall, eyes blazing. “You like teasing me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “A lot.”

“Good,” he said, pinning her wrists above her head. “Because I like punishing you.”

His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that shattered everything polished and pretty about the evening. It was messy, rough, filled with hunger. He tasted like dominance and danger, and Aria surrendered to it completely.

The slit in her gown allowed him access to her thigh, and when his hand slid upward, she gasped.

“No panties?” he asked, voice like gravel.

“You picked the dress,” she whispered. “It didn’t leave room.”

His eyes darkened. “You really want me to lose control, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Sebastian growled, deep in his throat, and the sound shot straight between her legs. His hands gripped her waist, his lips traveling to her neck, leaving heated kisses as she arched against him.

“You think you know what it means to be mine, Aria,” he murmured. “But tonight… I’m going to show you.”

Her knees nearly gave out.

And somewhere deep inside her, she knew—this wasn’t just lust.

This was obsession.

This was a man who didn’t just want to possess her.

He wanted to consume her.