SOLD TO THE CEO

Glided Masks and Shadows

CHAPTER 19: Gilded Masks and Shadows

*Aria**

The penthouse office of Valtiéri Enterprises felt less like a corporate headquarters and more like a high-tech glass cage. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the New York City skyline stretched out under a heavy, gray twilight. Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating.

I adjusted the collar of my tailored dress, my fingers lightly brushing the concealer covering the faint, glowing pulse of the bloodbound sigils on my wrist. To the rest of the world, I was just Eliana—the shy stepdaughter sold to settle an underground debt, currently acting as a temporary executive assistant.

Nobody in this room could know my real name was Aria. Nobody could know about the ancient magic humming in my veins, or the silver dagger hidden securely in my leather tote bag.

"The quarterly projections are completely unacceptable, Lucien," Uncle Malcolm’s smooth, predatory voice cut through the silence of the boardroom.

Malcolm sat at the end of the long mahogany table, swirling a glass of dark red liquid that smelled faintly of copper and expensive vintage. He looked exactly like a man who believed he had already won. His eyes darted to me, a smug, knowing glint dancing in them. He thought the Velorith trial had broken us. He thought the silence between Lucien and me over the last few days meant the bond was dead.

Lucien didn't even look up from his tablet. He sat at the head of the table, perfectly motionless, his impeccably tailored charcoal suit making him look like an unyielding shadow.

"The projections are exactly where I want them to be, Malcolm," Lucien replied, his voice an icy, detached rasp that sent a deliberate shiver down my spine. "If you spent less time monitoring my personal assets and more time managing the European logistics sector, you wouldn't find yourself so confused by basic numbers."

Malcolm slammed his glass onto the table. "Don't play games with me, nephew. The board meeting is in forty-eight hours. If your... *investment*," he sneered, looking directly at me, "fails to present the required family inheritance qualifications by then, the CEO chair belongs to me. And we both know she looks entirely detached lately. Did something happen during your little weekend getaway?"

The tension in the room spiked so fast the air pressure seemed to drop. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced my face to remain completely blank, channelled the fierce resilience Lysandra had shown me in the vision.

"My relationship with my wife is not on the corporate agenda," Lucien said, his dark eyes finally locking onto Malcolm with a lethal intensity. "This meeting is adjourned."

**Lucien**

The moment the heavy double doors clicked shut behind Malcolm and the rest of the board members, the cold executive mask I wore shivered and broke.

I stood up, pulling off my suit jacket, my fangs aching behind my lips as the scent of Aria’s anxiety hit my senses. I locked the office doors with a sharp flick of my wrist, activating the heavy privacy shields that blocked all corporate espionage and supernatural tracking.

"He’s getting bolder," Aria whispered, leaning back against the glass desk. Her soft eyes were wide, tracking my movements as I crossed the room toward her. "He really thinks the temple broke us, Lucien. He thinks the bond is gone."

"Let him think it," I growled, stopping just inches from her. The proximity was pure torture. For forty-eight hours, I had been forced to ignore her in public, to treat her like a stranger, to pretend her presence didn't completely rule my sanity.

I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I gripped her chin, forcing her to look up into my eyes. "Are you alright? Did he try anything when I was out of the room?"

"I'm fine," she said, her voice dropping to a breathless murmur as she leaned into my touch. She reached up, her small hands sliding over my chest, her fingers clutching the fabric of my shirt. "But it's getting harder to pretend, Lucien. Every time you walk past me in the hallway and look right through me... my soul screams."

"Do you think it's easy for me?" I rasped, my thumb tracing the soft line of her lower lip. My inner beast was roaring, demanding that I pull her into my arms, bite her neck, and reassert the bloodbound mark for the entire world to see. "Watching you sit at that table while my uncle looks at you like you're a piece of meat... it takes everything in me not to rip his throat out right there."

"We can't," Aria reminded me, her quiet defiance shining through the fear. "Zara sent a encrypted text ten minutes ago. Malcolm has a hidden ledger. He didn't just buy my stepfather's debt contract—he engineered it. He set the trap months before we ever went to Velorith. If we expose our bond too early, he will release the illegal transfer documents to the mortal authorities to lock me away, and use the High Council to execute you for breaking the pact."

I leaned down, burying my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent of stardust and rain. The curse from the temple was a ticking clock in our blood, but the corporate warfare around us was an immediate firing squad.

"Then we make sure he never gets the chance," I whispered against her skin, my grip tightening on her waist. "Tomorrow night is the Valtiéri Charity Gala. Malcolm expects us to officially announce our legal separation."

Aria pulled back slightly, a dangerous, beautiful smile touching her lips. "Then let's give him a show he'll never forget. We walk in as enemies... and we leave him with absolutely nothing."

Suddenly, a sharp, rhythmic red light began to flash on my desk console. An override signal.

Zara's emergency code.

I let go of Aria, stepping back as I slammed my hand onto the console. Zara's voice came through the speaker, breathless and panicked.

*"Lucien! Aria! Drop whatever you're doing. Malcolm just left the building with a specialized extraction team. He’s not waiting for the board meeting. He’s heading straight to your Hamptons estate right now he knows where the dagger is."*

Aria gasped, her face going completely pale.

I grabbed my suit jacket, my eyes turning a dark, predatory crimson. "He's too late. The war just moved up."