Chapter 4
683 Words
Aldric Voss stepped into the penthouse, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence was thick, the kind that wrapped around a man’s shoulders and refused to let go. The cool scent of jasmine lingered in the air—a familiar presence, yet tonight it felt like something else.
Something watching.
The city sprawled beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows, Vienna’s skyline glowing like a masterpiece in gold and silver. But Aldric’s focus wasn’t on the view. It was on her.
Selene stood before the mirror in their bedroom, fastening a delicate bracelet around her wrist. Her gown, midnight blue and impossibly elegant, clung to her with effortless grace. She didn’t turn when he entered. She didn’t need to.
“You’re late,” she murmured, her reflection catching his as he shrugged off his jacket.
Aldric unfastened his cufflinks, rolling his sleeves with measured ease. “Business ran long.”
A slow pause. Then she turned, watching him in that way only she could—not accusatory, not suspicious. Just… knowing.
“Mmm,” she hummed, adjusting her earring. “And was it successful?”
His gaze flickered, reading between the lines. A simple question, but not really.
“As expected.”
Selene took her time picking up her clutch, tilting her head slightly. She was testing him.
Aldric met her gaze in the mirror. “Is there something you want to ask me, Selene?”
A soft, deliberate smile. “No.”
She crossed the room, closing the space between them with quiet steps. He stood still as she reached for his tie, fixing it even though it didn’t need fixing. The scent of her perfume drifted between them—familiar, controlled, undeniably calculated.
“You seem distracted, darling,” she murmured, her fingers lingering at his collar.
Aldric held her gaze, his own mask firmly in place. “Do I?”
Her lips parted as if considering something, then she leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. Not affectionate. Not possessive.
A message.
Then, she stepped back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t get lost, Aldric.”
With that, she turned, picking up her clutch, and left the room without another word.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Aldric exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. His reflection looked back at him, unreadable.
For the first time, he felt like the one being played.
Aldric loosened his tie, rolling his sleeves back as he stepped into his private study. The silence of the penthouse wrapped around him, but it was not comforting. It felt weighted, pressing into his skin like something unseen yet undeniable.
He poured himself a drink, the sharp scent of whiskey mixing with the faint trace of jasmine lingering from Selene’s presence. His wife had always been perceptive, but tonight—tonight she had known something.
Not proof. Not yet. But she felt it.
Aldric took a slow sip, letting the burn settle in his chest. His mind was restless, replaying the last few hours—the art auction, Lillith’s gaze lingering on his, the way she had left him wanting more. He had walked away from the temptation, but the truth was he hadn’t really left it behind.
A vibration against the mahogany desk caught his attention.
His phone.
A single unread message. Unknown number.
You’re slipping, Voss. Try to keep up.
Aldric’s grip tightened.
Dain.
Of course, it was Dain.
The man had an infuriating way of inserting himself where he wasn’t wanted, of seeing things others couldn’t. Aldric exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching. If Dain was watching, it meant the game was already shifting.
He set the glass down, his fingers tapping against the wood. What did Dain know?
More importantly—how much?
A slow, deliberate inhale. Then he picked up the phone and typed out a single response.
I don’t play games I haven’t already won.
He hit send, tossing the device onto the desk. The message was a lie, but he needed to believe it.
Because the moment doubt crept in, the game was already over.
- Writer
