The Devil’s Bargain

“Climbing into your aunt’s fiancé’s bed in the middle of the night… Have you no shame?” Aaron Kael’s voice was a low growl, laced with contempt. His jaw was tight, his entire body rigid with anger. His eyes, cold as ice, were locked on the delicate figure perched on his bed.

The response he received wasn’t shame or fear, but a strangely clear, almost musical laugh.

Zoe Thorne leaned back, propping herself up on her hands. The rough fabric of her dress shifted, revealing an exquisite collarbone and a sliver of pale, smooth shoulder.

“You know, I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” She tilted her head, her ruby-red lips curving into a provocative smile. “But… I just had to know what my future uncle tastes like.”

The fury in Aaron’s eyes deepened. He had never encountered a woman so brazen, so utterly insane.

“The Thornes are supposed to be a respectable family. How did they produce someone like you?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Too bad the Thornes had nothing to do with raising me.” Zoe shrugged, her gaze still fixed on him, unwavering. “Or… maybe you could teach me, Aaron? We could start right now.”

“Get out!” he roared, barely restraining the urge to strangle the insolent girl before him.

Zoe paid him no mind. Not only did she not leave, but she slowly, deliberately, moved closer. The fresh, clean scent from her skin drifted through the air—a scent that didn’t belong in this room, and certainly didn’t belong to his fiancée.

“I’m no ghost. I can’t just vanish. I can only walk…” She stopped right in front of him, her cool fingertips tracing a line across his heated skin.

Aaron felt his body react to the touch, his mind and his senses warring against each other. He clenched his fists, his jaw muscles flexing.

Zoe looked up, her eyes shimmering, her voice as soft as silk, ensnaring his thoughts. “But I don’t want to walk away. I’d much rather walk right into you.”

Just minutes ago, Aaron had been nursing a headache over his troublesome arranged marriage. He’d been forced to stay at the Thorne estate for a night before the official engagement meeting. He had just managed to get rid of Lana Thorne, only for her “precious” niece to show up.

She’d used the excuse of bringing him a glass of milk, but the milk sat untouched on the table while she had somehow climbed into his bed.

Aaron looked at her—her pale face and frail frame suggested weakness, yet her actions were bolder than anyone he’d ever met. He despised women who used their bodies as leverage, who schemed to get what they wanted.

His first instinct was to throw her out and make her pay for her foolishness.

But in that moment, looking into her cold, empty eyes, he hesitated.

That wasn’t the gaze of a flirt seeking a thrill. It held something else, something he couldn’t decipher.

This girl didn’t just want to seduce him.

She wanted more.

And he was just the piece she had chosen to start the game.

Aaron suddenly grabbed Zoe’s wrist, his grip so tight it made her wince.

“I’m not interested in someone as cheap as you.”

He thought the insult would make her flinch, that it would wound her pride. He was wrong.

Zoe didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer. Her hot breath fanned across his neck, carrying that cool, clean scent.

She scoffed. “Cheap? Are you sure you’re any better, Aaron? Your marriage to my dear aunt—isn’t that just another transaction? How is that any nobler than what I’m doing?”

Aaron froze.

“Shut up!” he snarled, tightening his grip.

“Ouch…” Zoe’s expression softened, her voice suddenly taking on a delicate, almost pitiful tone. “You’re hurting me.”

Her abrupt shift in demeanor threw him off. He instinctively loosened his hold.

That was all the opening she needed. Zoe slipped from his grasp. She spun around, glided past him, and casually sat in an armchair, crossing her long, slender legs and revealing a flash of pale thigh.

She picked up the glass of milk, swirling it gently. “Aren’t you going to drink this? It’s good for you. My aunt said you’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. Must be… all the stress.”

Aaron took a deep breath, regaining his composure. He wouldn’t let some manipulative little girl lead him around by the nose.

“What’s your goal?” he asked, getting straight to the point, deliberately avoiding her eyes.

Zoe tilted her head, a captivating smile gracing her lips.

“Isn’t it obvious?… I want you.”

The declaration hung in the air, both audacious and insane. Aaron’s eyes narrowed, contempt flooding his features. He had lost all patience and was about to physically throw her out when a knock echoed through the room…

Knock… knock… knock…

It was followed by Lana Thorne’s soft, gentle voice. “Aaron, are you asleep yet? May I come in for a moment?”

Both Aaron and Zoe stiffened.

But before he could react, the little viper launched herself onto the bed, dove under the covers, and vanished.

Aaron scowled and moved toward the bed. “Get out!”

From beneath the thick duvet, Zoe’s watery, impossibly pathetic—and utterly fake—eyes peered up at him. “You wouldn’t leave me to die, would you? If my aunt finds me here, I’m dead.”

Aaron scoffed. Dead? He was hoping Lana would walk in, catch her red-handed, and drag this little nuisance out of his sight for good. He had no obligation to cover for her charade.

The doorknob began to turn. Lana wasn’t waiting for an answer.

Aaron turned to face the door, fully intending to ignore the fate of the creature hiding in his bed, but his gaze accidentally fell upon something…

On her exposed shoulder was a long, red welt, a clear mark from a whip, carved deep into her skin.

“If you tell her I’m here, she really will beat me to death, Aaron…”