Evening draped the D'Angelo mansion like silk as I descended the staircase. Kieran stood at the bottom, one hand in his pocket, jaw tight, clearly hating every second of waiting for me. I smiled to myself—he always hated waiting for me. Especially me.
Then—heels clicked.
I let him see me. My outfit shimmered under the chandelier, a daring slice of fabric that left nothing to the imagination. Dark eyeliner made my eyes wickedly seductive, and my glossed lips curved into a smug smile.
Kieran's brows shot up.
"What in the world are you wearing?"
I twisted a strand of hair around my finger.
"An outfit."
"I didn't buy you that."
"You did," I shrugged. "Today. Remember? I was picking clothes. You weren't looking."
He closed his eyes in disbelief. True—he definitely wasn't looking. And now, every man in the club would.
Before he could order me back upstairs, I strutted past him, hips rolling like a show crafted just for his sanity. His eyes tracked every curve, his jaw tightening. His bulge betrayed him.
He hated that I knew it.
"Aurielle," he warned.
I didn't stop. Didn't look back. Just walked to the car with attitude dripping behind me like perfume.
Kieran groaned under his breath and followed.
⸻
At the Club
The music vibrated through the floor, neon lights flashing over my glowing skin, making my outfit feel even more illegal. Kieran placed a firm hand on my lower back and guided me toward a VIP booth.
"Sit," he commanded.
"Sit?" I blinked.
"Yes. Don't stand. Don't move. Don't drink anything. I have business inside. Stay here."
I pouted, folding my arms dramatically.
"Why do you always babysit me like I'm some toddler?"
He ignored me and disappeared into the back-room corridor.
I smirked. Oh, so he could have freedom and I couldn't? Absolutely not. I slipped out of the booth, following the hallway with lethal curiosity.
⸻
Inside the Private Business Room
The room was dim, smoky, and sinful. Men lounged in velvet chairs. Strippers—bare-skinned and glitter-dusted—moved close to every expensive suit.
Including Kieran's.
My stomach twisted, sharp and tight. My heels clicked loud enough to silence the room. Every man stared. Kieran's jaw clenched because he saw it—the hungry eyes, the lust—and there I was, striding toward him like a storm in stilettos.
I nudged a stripper aside, sliding onto Kieran's lap. Straddling, not sideways. His breath stopped.
"Aurielle," he whispered, low and dangerous. "What are you doing here? I told you I'm in a meeting."
I pressed a finger to his lips.
"Shh. They're watching."
Oh, they were.
He tried to push me aside, focus on business. But bored? Jealous? I had too much chaos energy. I traced a finger down the arm of the girl Kieran had nudged away and met his eyes.
Shock. Disbelief. A flicker of pride.
I walked out, hips swaying, leaving Kieran to burn. One man had been staring at me the entire time—he left after I passed. Kieran didn't notice.
⸻
Back in the Main Club
At the bar, I tapped the counter.
"Drink."
The bartender nodded.
A man approached.
"Can I offer you a dance?" he asked, eager.
I showed my ring.
"No. I'm married. If my husband sees you, he'll kill both of us."
I laughed lightly, then smirked.
"You know what? Actually… yes. Let's dance."
He offered his hand. I didn't take it. I moved to the dance floor, hips moving to the beat. He followed eagerly.
The music throbbed through me, deep bass crawling up my spine. He stepped closer than permission allowed. Hands skimmed my waist.
I froze. I hadn't said he could touch me. I grabbed his wrist, sliding it off.
"I said dance," I murmured. "Not touch."
He grinned.
"You're trouble, sweetheart."
"Born that way," I said.
He pressed closer, fingers brushing where they shouldn't. Heart hammering, instinct kicked in. My fist smashed square into his nose. Blood spurted. He staggered.
Gasps ran through the crowd. I kneed him hard where it hurt most. He yelped and fell.
From the shadows, Kieran's eyes blazed hotter than the club lights. He pushed through the crowd, each step a storm. Shock, awe, pride flickered across his face. One day of training… I was already a fast learner.
The man scrambled to rise, rage flooding his expression. That was the moment Kieran lost it.
A gun appeared in the man's hand. I froze.
Before I could think, Kieran knocked it away with one swift motion. Then came the fists—faster than anyone could follow—smashing faces, noses, jaws, leaving a bloody, staggering mess. Everyone froze. They knew better than to step between Kieran and the German Mafia.
I clutched his shoulders, shouting.
"Kieran! Stop! You're going to kill him!"
Not yet. His anger was wildfire—and I had lit the fuse.
Finally, I forced him to pull back, shaking my head.
"Enough! That's enough!"
He paused, chest heaving, eyes dangerous. The fire still burned—but finally, he stopped.
⸻
Back at Home
I couldn't hold it in.
"Kieran! Why did you almost kill him? I could've handled it! Why do you keep hurting people because of me?"
His eyes darkened, jaw tightening. Then—for the first time—I heard him yell.
"He almost raped you!" Anger blazed. "Because you were there, flaunting yourself! Just look at what you wore—showing off your body to everyone out there!"
I stopped, stunned.
"So… it's my fault I almost got raped? Really?" I shook my head, disappointment burning.
"I'm sorry!" The word came out, raw and rare.
I froze mid-step. Then the door burst open.
"Kieran! I told you that woman you married is trouble! Look what she's caused—"
Both of us whipped our heads toward the entrance, faces shifting as we saw who had just arrived. Anger, fury, and chaos ready to collide.
What was he doing here?