Zara's POV
An exhausting one-hour-long commute by train from Manhattan to this exclusive suburb of New York City felt worth it the moment I reached the mansion.
The front garden, filled with roses, asters, and hydrangeas, lined the path with its colorful blooms.
The cool air carried hints of fresh-cut grass and dry leaves. It was calm and refreshing, a welcome contrast to the noisy, crowded city.
The Bellair Haven neighborhood really lived up to its 'lived-in heaven' reputation.
A middle-aged woman, claiming to be the mansion's head butler, led me to the large living room where I was supposed to wait for Ravier. She served me chamomile tea, as if she knew it would calm my restless mind.
I'd been nervous for a while now. Was this the right thing to do? What would I even say when I saw Ravier? Should I tell him I was drunk that night and ask him to forget everything I said? Of course not.
My throat felt dry, so I took a sip of the tea. But doubt still crept in, and Leah's words from this morning echoed in my mind: "In a moment of hesitation, trust your pussy."
I shook my head. Couldn't believe that weird, lewd advice was running through my mind at a time like this. I stared blankly at the teacup in my hands when a deep, husky voice startled me from behind.
"You made it here, Ms. Shamari. I was half expecting you to get lost along the way." Ravier's voice made me put the teacup down on the table as I turned my head.
I was stunned by what I saw. I'd never seen him in anything other than a suit, but now, seeing him in this casual outfit, I almost lost my balance.
His deep v-neck, loose tunic-style t-shirt fit snugly against his body, showing off the center of his sculpted chest and teasing a glimpse of his upper abs.
The lightweight silk trousers draped perfectly, complementing his tall frame—well over 6 feet?—and adding to his undeniable presence.
I gulped instinctively, snapping back to reality, and forced the words out of my mouth.
"It's not an easy address to get to, but Bellair Haven's too well known for anyone to get lost in, sir." I took another sip of my chamomile tea, stealing another glance as he walked past me.
He tousled his usually neat chestnut brown hair, still damp, like he'd just washed it. As he sat down across from me, the soft scent of aquatic notes from the soap lingered in the air.
He looked like a god straight out of Greek mythology, with those hazel eyes carrying a subtle hint of green. This messy, yet elegant look screamed how effortlessly his charm oozed from him like he was born with it.
I could feel my heartbeat slowly rising, and I pinched my fidgeting thumb between my fingers, forcing myself not to get too caught up in the sight of him. I'm just nervous about what's to come right?
He crossed his legs, looking at me with a smirk. "So, what kind of deal you bring to the table, Ms. Shamari?"
I handed him the paper I had prepared. "This. I made a new arrangement, outlining what I want and what I can offer."
He grabbed the paper, his smirk widening. "Let's see what kind of leverage you think you have to make a deal with me."
He quickly skimmed the paper and let out a chuckle. What was so funny? I'd poured all my effort into drafting this contract, but did he just laugh at it?
"Paid off your debts, making you a chef de partie at the rival restaurant of The Amethyst, and your bold last request about your father. Were you on drugs while writing this, or just ignorant?"
So, he already knew about my father's background. "I'm just... desperate, that's all."
"Are you aware that what you're asking is like betraying The Carrigan?"
"Yes."
"And you're asking me for this? When I'll soon become their son-in-law?"
"Your marriage… It's just a marriage of convenience. You wouldn't have approached me first that night with an offer like that if your marriage meant anything to you. What I'm saying is, for you, your needs and desires come first, right? Am I wrong, Mr. Auckland?"
"My needs... what I desire…" He tapped his fingers on his knees, his eyes locked on mine, like he was considering something. "And I made it clear that I'm just obsessed with the sight of your neck while you cook, right?"
"Yes. That's why I improved it."
"Do you really think your offer is worth what you're asking for, Ms. Shamari?"
"I believe what I'm offering is worth more than what you initially asked for, Mr. Auckland."
"By sex?"
"You don't want to?" I raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that where your kink leads to? Watching me cook, kissing my neck, and having sex... with consent. Now I'm giving my consent to you upfront." I couldn't help but yelp. "I'll even be your sex slave if that's what you want."
A bitter pang of embarrassment washed over me, hitting me harder than I expected. I gritted my teeth. It reminded me of the night I got angry when I thought he wanted me as his sex slave, but here I was offering it myself.
"How funny. Why do you keep using that rude term, degrading yourself?"
"Because that's the best thing I can do to gain power right now, sir."
"By selling yourself?"
"I'll even sell my soul if you want it—" I raised my voice and took a shaky breath. "Listen, Mr. Auckland, yes, I'm desperate. So desperate that I..." I paused and lowered my gaze weighing down my hesitation. "I... I might strip myself in front of you right now if you ask me to." My voice trembled.
"Strip then!"
It startled me for a moment. Was he serious? His cold gaze matched the chill in his voice. It made me forgot my doubts and hesitations when I stepped into this mansion.
My decision was firm now; I wouldn't leave empty-handed and I'd make sure he wouldn't let me go with nothing either. But I also knew someone as self-centered as him wouldn't make it easy. And for that, I needed to play along.
I gripped the edge of the soft velvet sofa and stood up. My fingers trembled as I slowly began to undo the blouse tucked into my trousers.
I unbuttoned it one by one, glaring at him. I was determined to follow my instincts, but another part of me felt ashamed. He kept staring into my eyes, as if searching for something.
I couldn't hold his gaze any longer, so I glanced down at the floor while my fingers kept moving.
As I undid the last button, my trembling hands moved to part the blouse, exposing more than just fabric—but before I could, he stood up.
His strides were quick, and in an instant, his strong hands clamped onto my collar, yanking the blouse back together as if to shield me from my own resolve.
The grip was firm and startled me. In one possessive motion, he tugged me closer.
The heat of his presence was overwhelming, his hold on my shirt keeping me locked in place.
My heart pounded, my breath hitched.
His eyes burned with anger, and there was something about his gaze that screamed displeasure.
"What do you take me for? Have you lost your dignity at all?" His voice was firm, almost cold.
"Like I said, if you want it, I'll do it. I'll find my dignity when I get the power I'm after."
"And what will you do if I reject your offer after you strip?"
"You won't," I replied confidently. "You're not the type to play with people who don't serve your interest, sir."
I saw him let out a curled smirk as his grip tightened and said, "I admire how bold you play your game, Ms. Shamari, but, don't think mine is an easy play."