Chapter 225.
"Do you own one normal hobby?" I mutter under my breath.
Probably not. I move on.
There are awards, plaques, expensive decorative pieces that likely cost more than some people’s rent, and framed certifications.
Everything about this room screams success.
And yet.....The deeper I look, the more subtle things I notice. Like a particular whiskey bottle that’s clearly, a photo tucked near the corner of a shelf that looks less formal than the others.
That catches my attention and I pick it up carefully. It’s older zane looking Younger and less guarded somehow, standing with people I assume are family.
He isn’t smiling exactly but he looks...Lighter.
The difference is subtle but noticeable and strangely.....It makes my chest tighten.
Because sometimes I forget that before all this... before the power, the sharp edges, the impossible intensity.....Ther was probably just a man. I stare at it for a moment longer before carefully setting it back.
Then continue. His desk is next...now I know I probably shouldn’t.
But "shouldn’t" has rarely stopped me before.
I circle around it slowly, glancing over the meticulously organized surface
I open one drawer but there’s nothing particularly interesting.
God, he really is insufferably organized.Then.....One drawer sticks slightly.
My curiosity sharpens immediately.
"Oh?"
I tug again and it opens.
Inside are more personal items, nothin scandalous but enough to feel... more private. Important-looking paperwork, a spare phone.
And.....My fingers pause. There, tucked slightly beneath a folder, is something familiar.
I pull it out slowly and my breath catches.
It’s a photo Of me.
I blink. Actually blink.
Because...What?
I stare at it. It’s not some formal event photo or staged. It’s candid. Me, completely unaware, laughing and Smiling. And judging by how healthy I look....It’s older. Before everything got so bad, before the poison nearly destroyed me, before so much pain for a second.....i just stand there confused and quiet. Because why...Why would he keep this?
My chest does something strange, something I don’t entirely like or understand. Because this doesn’t fit the version of him I’ve been trying so hard to protect myself from.
This.....This feels personal and Soft, even and somehow that feels more unsettling than cruelty. I slowly place the photo back exactly where I found it. Then close the drawer gently.
My thoughts are suddenly louder So I move away. Toward the bar, towards literall anything else.
I pour myself water, needing something to do, something grounding. Because for all my stubbornness....That tiny discovery shook something.
I glance around the office again, at the carefully built world of Zane. At the power, the discipline and the hidden softness he clearly never intended for me to find. Amd for the first time tonight.....i don’t feel like I’m just wandering his office, I feel like I’m wandering him. And honestly? That may be far more dangerous.
I last longer than expected, maybe twenty minute? Maybe thirty?
I pace, sit and look through books I have no intention of reading.
I drink more water, I even attempt staring out the massive windows dramatically like some imprisoned billionaire wife in a tragic romance.
It doesn’t work. Because no matter how luxurious this office is....I’m bored out of my mind and worse?
Now that I know what’s outside...The music, the energy and chaos.....Staying in here feels impossible.
I sit on the couch for approximately ten more seconds before groaning dramatically.
"Oh, come on."
I lean my head back.
"He can’t actually expect me to just sit here."
Well. He can, But that’s not the point.
I stand. Again and this time, there’s no pretending. No half-hearted attempt to obey or rationalization.
I simply accept the truth, I cannot stay here.
"Just a quick look," I tell myself.
Perfect, reasonable and harmless.
I smooth my dress, check my reflection briefly in the mirror, and head toward the office door.
My hand lands on the handle....i pause, for exactly one second. Because yes....i know he explicitly told me not to, repeatedly and repeatedly out emphasis. Woth that very serious voice but then again...He also should know me better by now.
"An hour is too long," I mutter and with that...i open the door and step out. Immediately, the atmosphere shifts. The quieter executive calm of his private office disappears, replaced by distant bass, muffled conversations, and the unmistakable pulse of nightlife. I close the door behind me carefully and glance around.
The hallway is empty for now. Good.
I start walking, slowly at first..like maybe I’m giving myself one last chance to turn back.
I don’t.
Instead, I descend the staircase carefully, heels clicking softly and the deeper I go....The louder everything becomes.The energy wraps around me again almost instantly.
Music, laughter and desire. It’s intoxicating.
By the time I fully step back into the club’s private upper section, I can’t help but stare all over again.
It’s even more surreal when I’m alone, people move around me in provocative outfits, expensive drinks in hand, conversations dripping with confidence and seduction.
No one stops me, no one questions me.
Though....a few people definitely notice me.
I can feel it, the glances and the subtle double takes and maybe....Maybe Zane had a tiny point earlier. Because yes, some eyes definitely linger.
Still. I lift my chin and keep moving, if I’m here, I might as well enjoy it. I approach the bar first, curiosity getting the better of me.
The bartender immediately straightens.
"Ma’am."
Interesting apparently, being associated with Zane comes with perks.
"Hi," I say, trying not to sound too amused. "What’s good?"
The bartender gives me a respectful rundown of options,m.
I order something strong enough to keep things interesting. Not enough to dull my senses, just enough to settle that restless itch under my skin. The bartender slides the glass toward me, and I take it with a small nod before bringing it to my lips.
The burn is immediate and smooth and dangerously good.
"Okay," I murmur to myself after swallowing. "That’s actually amazing."
I take another slower sip, then turn slightly on my stool, letting my gaze sweep over the club again. Now that I’m not trapped upstairs pretending to behav...i can actually explore.
And honestly? This place is fascinating, everywhere I look, there’s something happening. Privat conversations, High-stakes laughter, provocative dancing and deals being made. There’s Temptation practically dripping from every dark corner.
It’s almost overwhelming but in a thrilling kind of way.
I slide off the stool, drink still in hand, and start wandering. Not too far, just enough to satisfy my curiosity. And then.....i spot it, a private gaming section tucked into one side of the club.
Cards...Poker and Money.
Men seated around an upscale table, drinks in hand, expensive watches flashing under low light. Thei expressions range from arrogant to entertained to downright dangerous.
Interesting.
My lips slowly curve. Well now, that looks fun.
Without overthinking it, I head that way.
The closer I get, the more attention I start drawing. Not too loud r obvious.
But I feel it, the subtle shift. Eyes noticing and liingering, Curious. By the time I reach the table, conversation dips just slightly.
Perfect.
One of the men glances at me, brows lifting.
"Well," he drawls, amusement clear in his tone, "this is unexpected."
I let my expression soften instantly....Wide-eyed, Innocent and Sweet. Like I have absolutely no idea what kind of room I just wandered into.
"Oh," I say lightly, glancing at the cards. "Am I interrupting?"
A few chuckles circle the table immediately, exactly as expected. Because men like this?
They underestimate first, especially when you let them. And right now.....That works beautifully in my favor as another man gestures dramatically.
"Not at all."
I hesitate just enough to sell it, then smile.
"Good."
I slip gracefully into an open seat, crossing one leg slowly over the other and I don’t miss it....Not one bit.
The shift in their attention, they way multiple gazes immediately drop. Fresh skin, smooth leg, a deliberate flash of confidence beneath carefully crafted innocence.
Hook. Line. Sinker.
Inside, I smirk. Outwardly? I remain perfectly composed. Maybe even a little naive.
"Do you know how to play?" one of them asks.
I tilt my head slightly, giving him a soft smile over the rim of my glass.
"A little."
Lie. A complete lie but useful.Because the immediate gleam in several of their eyes tells me exactly what they’re thinking.
Easy target and a pretty distraction.
Rich man’s wife playing out of her depth.Oh, this is going to be fun I set my drink down carefully.
"Well?" I ask, glancing around the table. "Are you going to teach me?"
That does it. Now they’re fully engaged as the dealer begins and cards move, chips slide and as the game starts.....i settle in, wattching and leearning.
Because while they’re busy staring at my legs.....I’m watching their hands, their faces, habits, their mistakes and slowly....Very slowly....My smile deepens because the second they decided to underestimate me....
I already started winning.
Game time.
The dealer slides the first round smoothly across the velvet table. I lift my cards carefully, keeping my face innocent. Around me, smug men smirk in quiet confidence. I take a slow sip of my drink, hiding my own. Let them think I’m clueless. That makes winning so much sweeter.