CHAPTER11: ART OF SEDUCTION
1176 Words
Some dinners are shared with love and beautiful smiles.
Others are laced with secrets and seduction.
But tonight, Ivy McDonald had no appetite for forgiveness.
Jason snapped out of frustration. “Where the hell did they go?”
He was about to step out of his car when Ivy suddenly darted out of the café's back door, and immediately flagged down a cab.
“You didn’t drop your number,” Ethan called out, standing arms akimbo by the café door, staring at Ivy.
She turned and mouthed, “I’m so sorry,” before entering the cab.
Ethan shook his head, turned, and walked away with a long face.
Across the street, Jason finally stepped out of his car. His jaw was stiffened, but his composure was calm, like a man who wielded power and knew how to use it to control others. He hadn’t expected Ivy to run out the way she did.
The thought of it brought a sly smile to his lips. “She’s still mine,” he murmured confidently, moving back into his car.
Ivy entered her studio and fell flat on her single sofa. Guilt bubbled up inside her for leaving Ethan hanging. She tightened her eyes shut. God, I’m not ready for such commitment, and even if I were, certainly not with Jason’s best friend.
She opened her eyes, scanning round her studio, when her gaze fell on an unfinished canvas. “There you are, my perfect distraction.”
She picked the canvas from the floor, placed it on her easel, and lost herself painting as time ticked away.
It was just after dusk. Ivy was about to lock up her studio when a courier dressed in dark shades arrived. She looked with a mind like an open book as the courier walked up to her.
“You must be Miss Ivy McDonald?”
Ivy nodded and asked, “Do I have a package?”
“Yes,” he answered, handing her a sleek red box with a gold ribbon.
“Thank you,” she said, and immediately he turned and left.
She went back into her studio and opened up the package. It had no name or a written address. It had a handwritten note on thick plain paper inside.
“Your art speaks what others dare not say out loud. I would be pleased if you would join me for a private business dinner. Tonight, 9pm at The Glass Penthouse.”
Below it, a receipt was attached—payment for one of her paintings, Dark Mind, sold anonymously three times its current price.
Ivy stared at the receipt, her pulse pounding. No name on it, just curiosity and a force she couldn’t explain.
The glass penthouse glittered against the night skyline. Ivy stepped out of the elevator, her black silk dress clinging to her like a shadow. Every step she took made her heart thud hard.
A long dinner table spread across the room, and candlelights flickered on the silverware. At the far end, a man rose with the utmost panache from his seat.
Ivy saw red when she looked deeper and spotted a matte black mask. I should have known it was Jason right from the outset.
She continued walking towards him, trying to conceal her anger.
“I’m glad you came,” he spoke in a voice low and smooth.
She forced a smile. “I’m sure.”
She dimmed her eyes. “I didn’t realize I was being invited to a masquerade ball.”
“It isn’t,” he responded and gestured to his mask. “This is just a necessary precaution for now.”
“Not like it’s any of my business.” She looked away and fixed her eyes on him almost immediately. “Thanks for your patronage, I got the receipt,” she muttered irritably.
“You look so stunning.”
“Should I be flattered or concerned?” she shot back at him sharply.
He smiled slowly. “Can it be both, Ivy?”
She rolled her eyes at him. Dinner was quiet. Ivy did her best to avoid Jason’s touch and gaze. Their conversation was disguised in metaphors and riddles.
Jason looked at Ivy, his fingers lightly grazing the rim of his wine glass. “I never thought you would show up,” he mumbled, but his tone had a darker hint.
Ivy shrugged. “Curiosity kills the cat. But, satisfaction fills her in.”
Jason chuckled, his voice sleek. “So, you’re here to be satisfied.”
She leaned in, eyes filled with rage. “I’m here to remind myself why I should never be with you again.”
“Didn’t look that way to me last night,” he scoffed, swirling his wine. "You slept so comfortably. Almost like you missed being around me."
“I always did have a soft spot for tragedy,” she snapped.
He hit the jab, then leaned forward. His eyes darkened, but not with rage but something that unsettled Ivy. “Don’t refer to us as tragedy,” he whispered with a cocky smile. “We are fire.”
For a moment, there was thick silence between them. Jason’s gaze didn’t waver. “Do you still dream about us?”
Ivy laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Which part? The betrayal or the part where you almost ruined me again?”
“You talk like you don’t feel anything for me, but your eyes tell a whole different story.”
Ivy disliked how warm her skin felt whenever his voice was close and how her pulse still jerked when he leaned in. “I’m over you, Jason,” she muttered, gulping down her wine.
His eyes roamed her cleavage, and he slowly licked his lower lip. “If that is true, why then are you trembling? And why are your n*****s suddenly bulging?”
“I’m angry, Jason,” she ranted, finally looking him in the eyes. “Angry that you still know how to compel my heart even without an effort.”
Jason exhaled. “Then, let’s not pretend anymore. Let’s just feel it, Ivy.”
She swallowed hard and whimpered. “It’s not that easy. I can’t.”
Jason reached for her hand across the table. Her palm was slick with sweat. He fixed his gaze on her closely. “It is easy and you can. If only we could just stop pretending, Ivy.”
Ivy glanced at his hands. She could feel the heat simmering beneath her skin, and for a moment, she wanted to reach back, but she hated how she felt. Instead, she stood, head held high like a proud peacock and eyes shooting daggers. “You don’t get to tell me how to feel when you were the reason I became numb in the first place.”
She turned and left. Jason didn’t flinch or chase after her, but his voice did the chasing for him. “You can keep lying to yourself, but deep down, your heart still beats for me alone.”
- Writer
