Chapter 4
1470 Words
Zander made his way toward the infamous Zest Coterie, the Dominic estate’s most debauched sanctuary for the pre-celebration of Asher’s ascension. A smirk tugged at his lips as he recalled his mother's nagging since his arrival. She hadn’t stopped flashing portraits of noble-born girls, insisting it was time for him to marry.
Marriage? The very word made Zander scoff.
The thought of pledging himself to one woman was suffocating. His soul thrived in indulgence, wild, free, and insatiable. One p***y could never contain the storm that was Zander Dominic. Every new conquest lit a fire within him, and that chaos, that unpredictability, made him feel alive.
Meanwhile, at the far end of the kitchen quarters, Beatrice shouted orders as usual.
"Take these refreshments to the Zest Coterie. A male servant will be waiting. Hand them over quickly and return at once," she ordered the line of slave girls, not bothering to look up from her clipboard.
The girls obediently picked up their trays and began walking in a quiet, obedient line.
The fragrant steam rising from the food was irresistible.
"This smells so good… I wish I could have just one bite," Kiara whispered, inhaling the rich scent with longing eyes.
Gabrielle, walking beside her, offered a dry chuckle, but it lacked its usual sass. "Maybe if there are leftovers, they’ll toss them to us like scraps, better than watching it go into the trash."
The sorrow behind her voice tugged at Kiara’s chest. Gabrielle wasn’t just a friend; she was her soul sister. They had been bonded by shared suffering since they were fourteen. Kiara still remembered the day Gabrielle arrived, sold to the Dominic household by her father. Before her, Kiara had been alone, isolated, and a frequent target of cruelty from the other Lowlives.
Gabrielle had become her shield, her voice, her strength.
But now, seeing that fierce protector looking so small, so defeated, Kiara didn’t know how to fix it. All she could do was slip her hand into Gabrielle’s and offer a silent squeeze of solidarity.
Sometimes, words weren’t enough.
On the other hand, the young Gabrielle, once full of hope that she would one day break free from this brutal world of chains, could feel that hope crumbling, piece by piece, with each passing day.
Lost in her swirling thoughts, she didn't notice where her feet were taking her until she slammed into something solid.
Hard.
The tray slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor. Porcelain shattered, echoing down the long marble corridor like gunfire.
“What the f**k? Can’t you see where you’re going?” a harsh, male voice snarled.
Gasps erupted behind her. The other girls froze.
Gabrielle’s eyes widened in panic. She dropped to her knees, her body trembling as she clasped her hands together in a silent, desperate apology. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...please forgive me.”
“Stand up, bitch.”
The command came like a whip crack.
Zander.
Zander Dominic had assumed, like always, that she was just another desperate courtesan throwing herself at him. Just another slave aching for attention.
Legs quivering, Gabrielle slowly rose, keeping her head bowed in submission.
From the sidelines, Kiara’s eyes brimmed with tears, her heart thundering in her chest. Her nails dug into her palms as she watched her friend tremble before the man. She wanted to scream, to run to her, but fear chained her in place.
Zander, however, wasn’t done.
His sharp green gaze swept over the small, shaking form in front of him. Something about her posture—the way she trembled yet refused to speak beyond an apology- piqued his curiosity. She wasn’t like the others.
“Look at me,” he ordered, voice low but commanding.
“I..I’m sorry… please, I didn’t mean...” Her voice was barely a whisper, honey-soft and laced with fear. A feminine melody that made something primal stir in Zander’s chest.
“I said...look at me.”
She flinched, then slowly, ever so hesitantly, lifted her face.
Dusky eyes, wide and tear-filled, met his piercing green ones.
For a moment, everything around him faded. Zander inhaled sharply, taken aback by the sheer raw fear and beauty that shimmered across her features. She wasn’t just another lowlife.
She was fragile. Untouched. Unbroken.
And he wanted her.
He took a step forward.
Gabrielle instinctively stepped back, her breath catching in her throat.
Just then, the male butler, Patrick, hurried into the hallway. He quickly bowed and spoke, “My deepest apologies, Master. I’ll make sure this girl is punished...”
Zander lifted a hand, halting him mid-sentence.
Silence.
Patrick, reading the shift in Zander’s mood, subtly signaled the other maids to leave, an effort to defuse the brewing tension. The girls scrambled away without hesitation.
All except Kiara.
She stood frozen. Her heart wouldn’t let her abandon her friend.
Zander’s gaze flicked back to the trembling girl in front of him, his tone laced with mockery. “If you wanted me to f**k you, sweetheart... there were better ways to ask.”
Gabrielle flinched as he reached forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek.
“It’s not like that,” she breathed out, her voice trembling, but the spark of defiance flickered behind her words.
Zander’s brows lifted, intrigued. That fire. That spirit. No one, no woman, had dared speak back to him like this.
She wasn’t just scared.
There was pride in her fear, stubborn, burning, unbroken.
Interesting.
Suddenly, his hand snapped forward, wrapping around her wrist.
“I think someone needs to be taught how to behave,” he murmured darkly. “I should tame this little attitude of yours, kitten.”
He began dragging her away.
Gabrielle struggled, but his grip was unrelenting. He was too strong, and she was just a fragile girl, and she couldn’t break free.
“Please!” Kiara cried out, rushing toward them. She grabbed Zander’s arm, desperately trying to pull him off her friend. “Please let her go! She didn’t mean to! Please...”
Zander stopped and looked down at her with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“Well, well… and now there’s another one.”
He tilted his head, expression darkening.
“Do you want me to take you too?”
Kiara froze, her eyes wide with horror.
“No, No.. No..no!” Gabrielle cried, panicking. “She didn’t do anything! Leave her alone!”
“Kiara, please go!” Gabrielle begged, voice cracking. “Don’t get involved...please.”
Zander smirked. He had found her weakness.
Her friend.
He leaned in close, voice turning cold. “Come with me willingly… or I’ll do things to your precious friend you’ll never forget.”
Gabrielle’s heart shattered.
“I will,” she whispered, broken. “I’ll come. Just… don’t hurt her. Please.”
Inside the Zest Coterie, the scent of expensive liquor and spice hung thick in the air. Laughter echoed from nobles, music hummed in the background, but Asher’s mind was already adrift.
He had drunk just enough.
Enough to feel the heat rush through his blood. Enough to strip off the weight of duty. He rose from the velvet chaise, his steps steady, commanding, as he moved toward the chamber where the concubine had been prepared for him.
As he approached the private chambers, a faint noise cut through the corridor’s silence, soft, almost imperceptible, but enough to stop him in his tracks.
A soft puss.
His ears caught the sound again, barely there, but enough.
Curiosity flickered in his whiskey-hazed mind as he turned toward the source...
And there she was.
The girl he hadn't been able to find since returning to Menderly.
His breath caught.
Bathed in the dim golden glow of the corridor stood her, the girl with midnight hair and sorrowful eyes that had haunted his every waking thought. Her petite frame trembled as she clawed at Zander’s hand, trying to free another girl from his grip.
But Asher saw only her.
The storm of emotions etched across her delicate face.
The red-rimmed eyes, swollen from tears.
The soft curve of her lips was trembling with fear.
Her long black hair cascaded like silk down her back.
She was heartbreak and innocence wrapped in one fragile body. She hadn’t changed.
And God, she still shattered him just by existing.
A sharp jolt of something, rage, possession, something primal, sliced through the alcohol clouding his head.
Why the hell was she here?
And why the f**k was Zander touching her?
His jaw clenched as his amber eyes locked on the scene.
He didn’t know who the other girl was. Didn’t need to.
The panic on her face was enough to ignite every protective instinct in him.
Without a second thought, Asher stepped forward, his voice low, icy, lethal:
“Let. Her. Go.”
- Writer
