Chapter 005

The world narrowed to the heat of his skin under my palms, the solid weight of him beneath me. I didn’t know how we got to the room, and I didn’t care. The chaos in my head demanded a different, louder noise to drown it out.

He gave it to me.

His mouth was a brand, kissing away the memory of every cold, cruel touch I’d ever endured.

He found places on my skin that made me arch and forget my own name. I was on top, taking charge, riding the wave of my own reckless decision.

This was my choice.

My destruction.

My first real power in years.

I shed my clothes like a second skin, helping him with his. When I leaned down and bit his nipple, a rough sound escaped his throat. It was a spark in the dark.

He rolled us over, his body caging mine. His eyes, dark and intense, devoured me.

"I want you,"

It was all the permission he needed. The rest was a blur of sensation, a beautiful, punishing history written on my aching body.

For a few hours, I wasn’t Evian the ghost. I was just a body chasing feeling, and he was the perfect, anonymous catalyst.

**

Morning came with the gentle pain of a body well-used. Sunlight streamed through unfamiliar, expensive curtains.

I was alone in the vast bed, the sheets cool.

The door opened, and he walked in, dressed in simple trousers and a shirt, holding two cups of coffee. He looked utterly at ease, as if beautiful women woke up in his bed every day.

Maybe they did.

"Good morning," he said, handing me a cup.

"Morning." I took it.

The heat of the night was gone. This was a transaction. "Your phone. Let me scan for payment."

A faint, unreadable flicker passed through his eyes.

He didn’t argue.

He retrieved his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to me silently.

I opened a banking app, my fingers swift. I transferred two million from the family account. The one they all used like a bottomless well.

It felt like stealing back a single drop from an ocean they’d stolen first.

"There," I said, handing the phone back. "You did a great job."

He took the phone, glanced at the notification, and then just… looked at me.

He didn’t smile.

He didn’t thank me.

He simply sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady and unsettling.

The silence stretched. He seemed utterly speechless.

"What?" I asked, brow raised. "Was it your first time getting paid? Or having sex?"

He didn’t answer.

I assumed it was the latter.

An idea, wild and empowering, took shape. I needed an outlet. A distraction I controlled completely. He was beautiful, skilled, and apparently discreet.

"How about this?" I said, slipping back into my dress.

"You be my plaything. I’ll call you when I need… stress relief. I’ll pay you every time. Since you did such a good job."

Finally, he spoke.

His voice was calm, devoid of the awe I’d expected. "Do you think two million is enough for that?"

I paused, one strap on my shoulder.

I looked at him. Really looked.

The sharp cut of his jaw, the intelligent stillness in his eyes.

I lifted my chin. "Five million per meeting then. If you continue to satisfy me."

A slow, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.

It wasn’t happy.

It was intrigued.

"Agreed."

"Good." I finished dressing, collected my clutch, and walked to the door. On impulse, I went back, leaned down, and kissed his cheek. "You’re cute."

I left before I could see his reaction. The word felt silly leaving my lips, a deliberate attempt to wield the kind of casual cruelty I’d always received. It felt hollow, but powerful.

**

I didn’t go home. I went straight to the bank headquarters, my mother’s documents in my bag. I met with the stern, elderly manager who had known my grandfather.

Two hours later, every secondary access point to the main family accounts was revoked. The black card was permanently frozen. The only key left was mine.

I returned home as evening fell. The storm was waiting for me in the grand living room.

"You useless, spiteful girl!" my stepmother shrieked the moment I entered. "My access to the card was declined at the salon! Do you know the humiliation?"

"Why is the account frozen?" my half-brother demanded, storming up to me. "I had a car payment due!"

Kate sat on a sofa, looking pale and victimized. Francis was beside her, holding her hand. He looked at me with accusation.

My father stood by the fireplace, his face purple with rage. "Explain yourself, Evian. Now."

I set my clutch down calmly. "I revoked the accesses. I froze the card."

"You what?!" my father roared, taking a threatening step forward.

"It’s my mother’s money," I said, my voice cool and flat. "The money you’ve been spending so freely. From now on, if anyone needs funds, they will come to me with a request. And a reason. I will transfer it personally, if I see fit."

The sheer audacity of it, the complete reversal of power, rendered them silent for a beat.

Then my father crossed the room finally and slapped me.

The crack echoed in the high ceiling.

My head snapped to the side, my cheek blazing. I slowly turned back, tasting blood. I didn’t raise a hand to my face. I just looked at him, my eyes dead.

Before anyone could speak again, the head butler hurried in, looking flustered. "Sir, Madam… The Limousine family is here. Their cars are at the gate."

The air in the room transformed instantly. Rage was replaced by shock.

"The Limousines?" my stepmother gasped, her anger forgotten. "The richest family? What are they doing here?"

Kate’s face lit up with sudden hope.

She turned to her mother. "Why are they here? Do you think… for me?"

"It must be!" her mother whispered back, clutching her hands. "They must have heard of your beauty and intelligence!"

My father was already straightening his tie, his fury at me completely shelved.

I was forgotten.

A problem for later.

I shook my head, the absurdity of it all a bitter pill. I turned to leave, to retreat to my room.

"Where are you going?" Kate’s voice stopped me.

I didn’t get a chance to answer. The double doors to the living room swung open.

The household staff ushered in a small entourage. And at its center, walking with an effortless, commanding grace that made the oxygen leave the room, was him.

My plaything.

He was dressed in a suit that probably cost more than our monthly expenses.

He wasn’t just rich... he was power personified. His eyes scanned the room and landed on me, instantly, as if no one else existed.

Kate recovered first.

A dazzling smile bloomed on her face. She glided forward, positioning herself directly in his path. "Welcome to our home, sir. I’m Katherine Crowley but you can call me Kate. It’s such an honor."

He didn’t even glance at her. He walked past her as if she were a piece of furniture.

He stopped in front of me. The entire room held its breath.

"You," I breathed, stunned.

He gave a slight, elegant shrug.

My father rushed over, bowing slightly. "Sir! Mr. Limousine! This is a tremendous honor. If you are here to seek a bride, my daughter Katherine is the most accomplished, the most..."

"She ruined me," the man—Mr. Limousine—said, cutting my father off. His voice was quiet, but it silenced everything.

His eyes never left mine. A faint, dangerous amusement glinted in them. "So she must take responsibility."

"What are you saying?"

He took a final step, closing the distance between us.

He looked down at me, a smile on his face.

"Marry me,"

The word hung in the air, not a question, but a statement.

I could only stare, the echo of his offer ringing in the silent, shocked ruin of my family’s ambitions.