Doris Elizabeth Corday

I wasn't sure what I had expected from Mr. Illion, but it wasn't this.

The kiss started hesitant, but with every passing second, his confidence grew, a simmering intensity building that left me breathless. I struggled to keep my composure, but the effort was futile under the weight of his growing certainty.

His gloved hands roamed downward, the leather cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth pooling inside me. I instinctively hooked my arms around his neck, unsure what else to do.

That small act seemed to spur him on, his hands traveling lower until they gripped my thighs, his hold firm enough to send a jolt of unfamiliar sensation coursing through me.

My breath hitched, betraying me in a way that only seemed to embolden him. His tongue slid past my lips, deepening the kiss with a hunger that made my pulse race.

This was supposed to be just for show, a performance...

But it felt too real.

When his mouth left mine, trailing a slow path down my jaw and to my neck, my head started spinning. My breathing turned shallow as he sucked lightly on my collarbone, the sensation sparking something I couldn't name but couldn't ignore. A tingling heat raced through me, leaving my pulse erratic and my control unraveling.

He pulled back, his gaze locking on mine as I struggled to steady my uneven breaths.

"You're shaking," he said.

"I'm not," I lied, though my unsteady tone gave me away.

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, the gesture almost playful despite the intensity of the moment.

"You are."

My breath caught again as his fingers began tracing slow, intentional patterns along my arm. The subtle intimacy of the gesture unraveled me further and I wanted to move away. To create space between us...

But my body refused to cooperate.

"I don't... I don't usually let people..." My voice faltered, the words dying in my throat.

"Touch you?" he finished for me, his tone infuriatingly matter-of-factly.

I nodded slowly.

"Neither do I," he said, his hand stilling at the inside of my thigh.

His thumb pressed lightly against my skin, the pressure more testing than threatening, as though he was gauging how far I'd let him go.

Or how far he could go.

My eyes narrowed.

"You seem pretty fine to me," I mocked.

The air in my lungs grew thin. Every touch sent my nerves alight, a strange concoction of fear and something else stirring deep within me. I wanted to tell him to stop, to give me room to breathe, but the words never came.

I hated how he could keep it together so easily.

I wasn't sure why...

I stayed frozen as his hand moved to mine. He pulled me closer, so my palm rested just above his chest. My eyes widened as I realized how fast his heart was beating.

"Do you feel that?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Then you know I'm not as calm as I look," he said, his dark eyes boring into mine. "But I'm holding it together — for you."

His words struck something deep within me, a shared vulnerability that made my defenses falter. He hated me just as much as I hated him.

Yet here we were, our inexperience and unease mirroring each other in ways I hadn't expected.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I admitted quietly, my voice trembling with a mix of frustration and relief. "Whatever you think, my experience... it's not as different from yours as you might imagine."

His brows arched slightly, surprise flickering across his usually stoic expression.

"Really?"

"Yeah," I said with a weak smile. "So, I guess we're both kind of pathetic."

His lips twitched, the smallest hint of amusement breaking through.

"Pathetic, huh?"

"Yes." I couldn't help but tease, even in my flustered state. "We're both fumbling our way through this."

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes darkened, a wicked glint appearing in them as he leaned closer.

"Are you challenging me, Miss?"

My breath caught, but I refused to back down.

"What are you going to do about it?" I taunted. "Bite me?"

His gaze turned predatory, and before I could react, he did just that.

His teeth sank gently into my neck, the sensation sharp enough to send a wave of heat rolling through me. I gasped, biting down on my lip to suppress any sounds I might regret. The sting of his bite mixed with the warmth of his breath against my skin made it nearly impossible.

When he pulled back, his lips brushed against my ear.

"Careful what you wish for."

The air between us felt heavy, crackling with unspoken things I wasn't ready to admit to. His touch wasn't hesitant anymore — it was deliberate, searing.

Like he insisted I surrender before him.

But I wasn't the kind to back down easily.

I leaned forward, catching his bottom lip between my teeth, biting just enough to make him pause. His eyes widened briefly before dark amusement flickered through them.

When I pulled back, I smirked.

"I bite back," I warned.

His chuckle was softer this time, tinged with something that felt like respect.

He ran a hand through his unusually messy hair. For a moment, it looked like he might have a retort. But he bit back the words and sighed instead.

"This suffices," he said coolly, his gaze lingering on my mouth for a beat too long. "We're done here."

I nodded, my throat dry and tight, unable to muster a proper response.

The moment felt surreal, every second stretching out as we moved to disentangle ourselves. I grabbed my dress, sliding it back on while he straightened his shirt and adjusted his cuffs.

When he turned back to me, his mask already in hand, he offered a faint nod.

"It was... lovely seeing you," he said, his voice detached but not entirely unaffected.

"I hope it was to your liking," I teased, the act slipping easily into place.

His dark eyes glinted.

"I found it adequate," he said.

I laughed lightly, watching as he left the room.

But as the door clicked shut behind him, my smile faltered.

An oppressive quiet slowly creeped up on me.

What the hell was so funny?

This was the same man who'd turned my life upside down, who'd nearly killed me without a second thought. My fingers brushed against the choker around my neck, and the weight of my grim reality settled heavily on my shoulders.

Even now, he could kill me.

I had been a fool to think we'd shared something in that moment. Our situations weren't comparable. My life hung by a thread, while his barely teetered on the edge of inconvenience.

His words echoed in my mind.

The gun was empty.

Or so he'd said... Did he mean it, or was it just another ploy to keep me compliant?

My thoughts twisted and tangled, pulling me further into doubt.

The door creaked open, snapping me from my spiral. I glanced up, startled.

Lady Q swept into the room, her crimson lips curving into a slow, approving smile. Her sharp eyes flicked over me, glittering with satisfaction.

"Well done, sweetheart," she purred, her voice honeyed and cutting all at once. "You've made quite the impression tonight. Come with me."

I forced a polite smile, ignoring the nervous flutter in my chest.

"Of course," I replied, my voice steady despite my inner conflict.

Lady Q turned on her heel, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor as she led me through the labyrinth of hallways to her office. The room was as luxurious as the rest of the establishment. With plush velvet chairs, gilded mirrors, and the lingering scent of expensive perfume.

She gestured for me to sit while she moved to a sleek cabinet in the corner, retrieving a bottle of champagne that looked as though it belonged in a museum.

"This," she declared, holding the bottle aloft like a trophy, "calls for a celebration."

She poured the champagne into two crystal flutes, the delicate fizz audible in the quiet room. I accepted the glass she handed me, taking a cautious sip as I let my gaze wander.

The bookshelves lining the walls were filled not with books, but with treasures: ornate statuettes, jeweled trinkets, and folders stacked in precise piles. My eyes landed on a bronze figurine near the far end of the room, its base slightly lifted to reveal the edge of a card tucked beneath it.

My pulse quickened.

Lady Q turned back to me, her green eyes appraising.

"You've done well for yourself," she said, settling into the chair across from me. "I meant for you to only be a server tonight, but you booked a high roller. You really got something special here, Liza. In just one day you've made more money than most girls could dream of."

I hesitated, forcing a casual shrug as I placed my glass on the table.

"Actually, I've decided this might not be for me after all."

Her perfectly arched brow lifted in surprise.

"Oh? And why is that? You've proven to be quite the asset."

Asset.

I took another sip of champagne, letting the fizz burn slightly down my throat as I considered my response.

"Like you said, I've made enough money. I don't need more."

Lady Q leaned back, her smile sharpening like a blade.

"I see," she said slowly. She set her glass down with a soft clink. "Or perhaps," she drawled, leaning forward now, "Mister Death promised to make you his?"

The champagne glass in my hand wobbled slightly, and I tightened my grip to steady it.

"I don't know what you mean..."

Her smile deepened.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't play coy. The chemistry between you two was hard to miss. It was... entertaining, to say the least." Her tone turned teasing. "Don't blush. It's a compliment. Men often convince women here to run away with them. I understand it."

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I quickly set the glass down, pretending to adjust the hem of my dress.

"I appreciate everything, but I think it's time for me to move on," I said, redirecting the conversation.

Lady Q studied me for a long moment before finally waving a hand.

"Fine. If you're set on leaving, I won't stop you. You've made me plenty of money tonight, after all."

"Thank you," I murmured, rising to my feet. She turned toward the cabinet, reaching for the champagne bottle to return it.

My heart raced.

This was my moment.

With practiced ease, I moved to the bronze statuette, my hand darting beneath it to slip the card free. The smooth surface was cool against my fingers as I tucked it into my bra. By the time Lady Q turned back, I was already smoothing my dress and adjusting my posture.

"Well then," she said briskly, her tone edged with finality. "Good luck, sweetheart. Don't be a stranger."

Despite who she was, I couldn't really dislike the woman.

She was way more understanding and pleasant than I expected for someone in her position. Perhaps in another life, I might've actually worked for her. Or with her.

"Thank you for everything," I said as a goodbye.

With an immense pressure off my shoulders, I headed out with a smile.

I barely passed a corner when Lady Q's voice from behind made me pause.

"Ah, Alistair," she said. "It's been far too long."

Alistair.

The name hit me like a jolt of electricity, my breath catching in my throat. I pressed myself to the wall, my heart racing. My nerves were on fire, every part of my instincts warning me just as they had at the club.

"Indeed," came a smooth, velvety voice.

My pulse quickened. Despite how normal he sounded, goosebumps spread from my nape all the way to my fingers. The worst feeling settled in my gut.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Lady Q asked, her tone almost flirtatious. "Surely you didn't come all this way just to bask in my company?"

Alistair chuckled softly, the sound unnervingly pleasant.

"Let's not waste time with pleasantries, darling. You have something I need."

Despite the warning in my chest, I couldn't help myself.

Slowly, I peeked around the corner.

His figure just barely disappeared from my sight as he entered Lady Q's office, a throng of guards waiting outside.

Silver-blonde hair.

That was all I caught. The way it shimmered under the dim light felt like moonlight captured in human form.

Unable to take the way my body grew cold, I turned and left as quickly as I could.

The cool night air slammed into me. My breathing was shallow as I hurried down the street, resisting the urge to run.

Every instinct screamed at me to put as much distance as I could between myself and that man.

By the time a sleek black SUV pulled up beside me, I was practically trembling. The back door opened, revealing Mr. Illion sitting inside.

"Get in," he said.

I didn't hesitate. Sliding into the seat, I shut the door behind me and let out a shaky breath. Mr. Illion's eyes flicked over me, his usual calm tinged with concern.

"Did you get it?"

I nodded, reaching into my bra and pulling the card free. My movements were robotic as I was still trying to ease my nerves. Mr. Illion took the card, his gloved fingers brushing mine in the exchange.

"Good," he said, tucking it into his black coat. "That's two out of four. We're halfway there."

I sunk into the seat as I let myself relax.

Halfway, huh...

"And when we have all four?" I asked.

"When we have all four, we'll have leverage that could make Alistair kneel," he answered. "But we're not there yet."

I crossed my arms, making myself comfortable.

I had no idea what exactly Mr. Illion's beef was with Alistair, and to be honest, I didn't want to know either. The best solution was to get done with this job.

Get all four cards as well as find the object Mr. Illion kept his information.

Once I handed it all over to the police, my hands were washed clean of these crime bosses.

Despite my solidified plan, I couldn't help but think back to what happened in the Velvet Room... My eye darted to Mr. Illion and I stiffened as our gazes met.

"You did well, Miss Corday," he said. "I'd like to offer a reward."

"Another one?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

He nodded.

"You did your part. And it wasn't easy. You deserve something for it. Name it."

My mind raced.

I had to use this chance. More than any physical reward, what I really needed here was to close the gap between us. The coffee machine I asked for as my first reward was a means to lower his guard around me...

To make him believe I was too simple to have any grand schemes.

With his guard lowered, my next reward should draw him in.

I needed something personal.

I tilted my head, feigning a thoughtful expression.

"How about dinner?"

His brows lifted slightly, a rare crack in his usually stoic demeanor.

"Dinner?"

"At a restaurant," I clarified, fighting the smirk tugging at my lips. "Someplace expensive where they fold the napkins in some fancy way. I've always wanted to experience a place like that. And you can be my date."

"You're serious?"

"Why not?" I asked, shrugging. "You offered me a reward. That's what I want."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and unexpected.

"Out of all the things you could've asked for, you chose dinner? And with me?"

"I'm a simple woman," I replied, letting a sly smile curve my lips.

"I've told you, I don't eat food prepared by others."

"Then you can just watch me," I rolled my eyes.

He held my gaze for a moment before shaking his head with a reserved smile.

"Fine," he said. "Dinner it is."

The drive continued in silence. Mr. Illion's gaze stayed fixed on the passing cityscape, his expression unreadable, as if the Velvet Room had never existed.

When we arrived at the penthouse, he finally turned to me again.

"I'll let you know when my schedule allows for dinner. Until then, rest. You've earned it."

"Of course," I replied.

He gave a curt nod and disappeared down the hall.

I didn't move until the echo of his footsteps faded entirely. Then I slipped into my room, shutting the door behind me. My back pressed against the wood as I leaned there, staring at the ceiling like it might hold answers.

I hated how I couldn't shake the memory of that room... Mr. Illion seemed perfectly fine. Like it was a minor inconvenience. I envied the way he could detach himself so easily...

I peeled off the white dress, letting it pool at my feet and headed for a shower. Despite how hard I scrubbed at my skin, I simply could not rid myself of this feeling. I tried to think about something else, but regretted it almost immediately.

Alistair.

His name crawled into my thoughts like poison, making my stomach twist. I'd barely glimpsed him tonight, yet it had been enough to chill me to my core.

I shook my head, shoving the thought away.

Alistair wasn't my problem.

I didn't have to steal from him anymore. Only his subordinates. If all went according to plan, I wouldn't even have to see him.

Right now, my focus needs to stay on that dinner.

And getting Mr. Illion wrapped around my finger.