What… what the hell was I doing?
My lips were still tingling, my chest rising and falling faster than it should — but my mind? It finally snapped back into place.
What the hell was that?
I yanked myself away, stepping back as if his touch burned. My thoughts clashed like thunder. Why was I kissing a man I barely knew? A man who ruined my peace, hacked my system, manipulated my father… a fiancé in name only!
I glared at Aurelius, whose smug expression slowly faltered when he noticed the sharpness in my eyes. His brow furrowed, the slightest hint of confusion and suspicion flickering in his gaze. Was he… assuming I was behind whatever this whole mess was?
I scoffed, raising my eyebrow, unable to hold back the venom in my voice.
"Do you really think this is how I operate? After you've been acting like some smug pervert, kissing me like we've shared a lifetime together?"
I spat, the words cutting through the heavy tension in the room.
A servant, still standing awkwardly by the doorway, visibly flinched. I turned my head, catching his shocked expression. Great — now we had an audience. I shot the poor guy a cold look. "What? Never seen a woman with standards before?"
The servant bowed hastily and excused himself, closing the door behind him.
I crossed my arms, feeling the rush of anger boiling beneath my skin.
"You don't get to pull me into your twisted games and then look at me like I'm the suspicious one, Aurelius."
My tone lowered, dangerous.
"Get your facts straight before you start assuming I'm part of… whatever this is."
Aurelius looked at me, something unreadable swimming in those deep blue eyes. The smug mask cracked just a little, replaced by a flicker of something else — wariness, maybe… or guilt? It didn't matter. I wasn't about to fall for this again.
This whole night was a mistake.
"We may be engaged in name," I said, stepping away from him toward the center of the room, "but don't mistake it for anything else."
I straightened my posture, brushing down my dress, forcing my heartbeat to settle.
"Now… what was this emergency you dragged me into, or are you just that desperate for company?"
I gave him a mocking, polite smile.
Because no matter how magnetic his presence was… I was no one's pawn.
Aurelius' lips curled into a half-smirk, half-sneer as he looked at her.
"You talk big for someone whose father sold her off for 50 billion dollars," he said coolly, his voice low enough that only she could hear, though the servants stood awkwardly nearby. "Don't forget, Callista… this isn't just a game. It's a deal — and you, my dear, are the centerpiece of it."
He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice even further, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"Your father agreed because he had no choice. He was drowning — and I threw him a lifeline… with a chain attached. You think I don't know your perfect little act? The obedient daughter, the flawless student… but behind those pretty eyes, you're calculating every move, aren't you?"
Aurelius' smirk softened into something almost dangerous.
"You're not a pawn in this, Callista. You're the queen. And queens… they always come with a price."
Callista scoffed, tilting her head with a smug grin as her eyes flickered to the lavish table nearby — neatly arranged with… things. Condoms in an ornate crystal dish, delicate silk nightwear, oils, wine, and a handwritten note in fine, sharp cursive: "Required for consummation. Do not disappoint me."
Seriously?
She smirked and leaned in, closing the distance between them until her lips nearly brushed his ear, her voice soft but laced with venom.
"Looks like your father knows what he's doing after all… so much for this 'engagement.'"
Aurelius's jaw tightened, but Callista wasn't done. She pulled back, just enough to lock eyes with him — her smirk growing wider, darker.
"As I observed back there in that grand little cult room," she teased, eyes gleaming, "you were terrified of your father. Cold to you. Intimidating, wasn't he? But guess what?"
She let out a light, mocking laugh.
"He spoke to me freely — as if I were his child. Looks like I won your father's heart, Aurelius~"
She punctuated it with a slow, taunting glance back at the "required things" before stepping away, her steps graceful, predatory.
Aurelius stiffened for a moment… then grinned — but it was the kind of grin a predator wears just before striking.
Aurelius's grin didn't falter. In fact, it deepened — sharp, wicked, the kind of smile that made Callista's skin prickle in warning.
He took a slow step toward her, closing the space she'd proudly claimed. His voice dropped, dangerously smooth.
"Oh, you think you've won, little dove?" he murmured, leaning close, his hand brushing her waist — not gentle, not possessive… claiming.
He tilted his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear.
"Let me remind you of something…I own this engagement. I own the deal. I own the night you just spent begging for more."
His hand trailed up her back, stopping at her nape, fingers curling around it with the lightest pressure, making her shiver despite herself.
"And as for my father…" he chuckled, a low, dark sound. "He may treat you like a daughter now — but you're not leaving this estate unchanged, Callista. The moment you stepped into this house, you became mine."
He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye, his smirk venomous, eyes gleaming.
"So go ahead. Smirk. Tease. But don't forget which one of us is truly holding the chain."
Callista's hands clenched at her sides, her jaw tight, but she forced a cold, mocking smile onto her lips. Her voice was like silk laced with venom as she leaned just a little closer, staring up at him with a glare that could ignite the air between them.
"But tell me, Aurelius…" she murmured, every word deliberate, taunting. "Who do you really think holds the most power in this estate? Is it you?"
Her tone dripped with condescension, eyes narrowing like sharp daggers.
"I've seen it — the way you flinch under your father's gaze, the way your bravado cracks when you step into that so-called throne room. You may act like the king of this palace, but you're just his frightened little pawn."
She tilted her head, smirking now, her confidence blazing like wildfire.
"Funny how the one you claim to 'own' might end up holding the real leash in this little game, don't you think?"
Aurelius's smile curled, slow and predatory, his steps closing the space between them until the air itself seemed to crackle with heat. His voice dipped lower, smooth as silk stretched over steel.
"Power?" he echoed, a dark amusement flickering in his gaze. "You think sitting on a throne makes someone powerful? My dear Callista…" He tilted his head, his knuckles grazing under her chin with an infuriating gentleness. "Power is about control. And right now — you're in my house, in my clothes, and standing in my bed."
Callista's face flushed — not with shyness, but with white-hot fury and sharp mortification. Her hand twitched at her side, aching to slap that smug grin clean off his face.
"Control?" she spat, glaring daggers up at him. "You're nothing but a puppet, terrified of your father's shadow. You didn't even choose this engagement, Aurelius — you bought it."
A sly, dangerous smirk tugged at her lips then, as a satisfying memory surfaced. She stepped in, her voice a velvet threat.
"And don't forget about the vault~" she purred. "Without that little vault of yours, those precious engagement papers disappear — and with them, my freedom returns."
Her words lingered in the air like a loaded gun, and for the first time, a flicker of something — tension, hesitation, or maybe intrigue — crossed Aurelius's eyes.
Aurelius's eyes darkened, the flicker vanishing as quickly as it came — replaced by something sharper, colder, and far more dangerous. His smirk returned, slow and razor-edged, like a wolf baring its teeth.
"The vault?" he murmured, leaning in so close that his breath ghosted against her ear. "You think I'd be careless enough to leave my fate — or yours — resting on a single vault?" He chuckled, a low, taunting sound. "Cute, Callista. But you underestimate me."
He pulled back just enough to meet her glare, his gaze glinting with wicked delight.
"Burn the papers, hack the files, storm the gates — it won't change one thing." He tapped her chest lightly with a finger, right over her racing heart. "Because what binds you here isn't ink on paper. It's leverage, secrets… and me."
His voice dipped lower, dead serious now, a shadow of his father in the weight of his words.
"I don't need a contract to keep you here, Callista. I'll bury you in this world so deep you won't know which way is out. And by the time you realize it… you'll be begging to stay."
Aurelius's lips curled again, half-smirk, half-threat.
"So go ahead. Test me."
The tension between them was electric, neither backing down — a battlefield dressed in silk and venom.
Callista smirked, leaning in till their noses almost touched.
"Don't forget," she purred, her tone dripping with mockery, "you don't even have your father's heart to win~"
Just as Aurelius opened his mouth to snap back—
"Ariel!!"
The shrill cry shattered the air, followed by the rapid pitter-patter of small feet. A young boy, no older than six, barreled into the room with tears streaming down his cheeks. His tiny arms were flailing, and his curls were a complete mess. "Ariel! Aurora's gone! She's gone!"
Callista blinked. Her entire scathing reply fizzled out instantly.
Wait… Ariel?
And then it hit her.
She stared at the child, then slowly turned her stunned gaze to Aurelius.
"Ariel?" she echoed under her breath—then promptly burst out laughing.
Uncontrollably.
She slapped a hand over her mouth as she doubled over. "No way… no way. Ariel?" she wheezed between snorts. "You've been threatening me, tormenting me, kissing me—and your baby brother calls you Ariel?"
Even the bodyguards twitched, clearly struggling to remain professional.
Aurelius closed his eyes for a sharp second. "Lucien," he said through a clenched jaw, "how many times—"
"But Ariel!" Lucien sobbed louder, clinging to Aurelius's coat. "Aurora's missing! She was picking flowers for me! And the maid said—she's not there anymore and they only found her ribbon!"
Instantly, all humor drained from the room.
Aurelius's posture shifted. He dropped to one knee, gripping Lucien's small shoulders. "Where was she last seen?"
"The east garden!" Lucien hiccuped. "She wanted the purple ones. She promised…"
Callista's smile faded. The tone of the room dropped into something sharp and cold. Protective. Dangerous.
Aurelius stood slowly, every trace of teasing gone. "Seal the estate," he told one of the guards without even looking. "No one leaves. Find the gardener. The maid. Anyone who saw her."
Callista's mind clicked into place. "Someone was watching her," she murmured. "She wouldn't just wander off. Not from this estate. Not with these guards."
"She didn't," Aurelius said darkly, throwing on his coat. "She was taken."
He didn't wait for agreement. He grabbed Lucien gently, then nodded once to Callista.
"Coming or not, Moreau?"
Her response was instant. "Of course."
Enemies, for now, united by something heavier than pride.
The hunt had begun.
Callista jogged to keep up with Aurelius, who had shifted into full command mode as he gave rapid orders to the guards lining the eastern corridors. His expression was stone-cold, his dark eyes gleaming with fury and panic beneath the surface.
Cringe, she thought to herself, glancing sideways at him. Absolutely cringe. Not the danger—no, that was real—but the fact that five minutes ago they were having a childish spat over power and condoms and suddenly they were on a mission to find a kidnapped child. What even was her life?
Her heels clicked too loudly against the marbled floors. She kicked them off mid-run, carrying them in one hand while pacing after him barefoot like a deranged Cinderella.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered, half to herself. "I was supposed to seduce you for evidence, maybe slap you once or twice, not go on some rogue child-rescue mission."
Aurelius glanced back at her, breath tight. "Regretting staying the night already, fiancée?"
Callista rolled her eyes. "Regretting not punching you harder."
The banter helped. For one fleeting second, the tension between them softened.
But then they arrived at the east garden.
The once-perfect rows of lavender and white flowers had been trampled. A child's ribbon—violet with tiny star patterns—lay snagged on the thorny edge of the rose hedge. Lucien's sobs deepened in the background, clinging to one of the maids.
The guards spread out instantly. Flashlights beamed through hedges, canines barked, and a faint trail of footprints disappeared into the maze just beyond the perimeter.
Aurelius stood frozen, his knuckles white around his coat. Callista watched him, something quiet settling into her chest. He wasn't acting. This wasn't a show. He genuinely cared.
"Who's Aurora to you?" she asked softly.
He didn't look at her. "Family."
She wanted to press further, but his voice was cold steel again. "Stay here with Lucien."
"Excuse me?" She stepped forward. "I'm not sitting on the sidelines."
He glared at her—but not in anger. In something that looked dangerously close to fear. "This isn't a game."
"No, it's not," she said firmly. "So stop treating me like a fragile ornament. I've trained harder than your guards, I can run faster in bare feet than most people can in boots, and I've handled worse than a flower maze in the dark."
He blinked.
Then—finally—nodded.
"Fine. But if something happens to you—"
"You'll cry?" she offered, smirking.
"—I'll send your father the bill for the trauma therapy," he finished flatly.
They shared a look.
Then, without another word, both of them ran into the hedge maze, following the trail of crushed petals and snapped twigs.
The deeper they went, the quieter it became. The laughter, the banter, even the constant tension between them began to slip into something else—cooperation. Silent understanding. As if they were… a team.
And as they rounded a turn, just past the third curve of the maze, they froze.
A stuffed rabbit lay in the grass. Aurora's.
But no girl.
Only a note—elegant, handwritten.
"Nice fiancé you've chosen, Valemont. Let's see what happens when the mouse tries to steal from the lion."
Callista stared at the note, the chill crawling up her spine like ice. Aurelius stepped closer, reading it over her shoulder.
His voice was low.
"This isn't about money. It's about you."
She turned to him, heart pounding. "Me?"
He looked at her, something unreadable in his eyes. "Someone knows who you are. What you're trying to do. And they just involved a child to get to you."
The weight of it hit her like a stone.
This wasn't just a marriage of convenience anymore.
It was a war—and someone had just declared it.
Callista swallowed hard, the earlier chaos of flirting, bickering, and smug one-upmanship crashing into something real and heavy.
"This is…" she whispered, eyes wide.
Aurelius nodded. "Yeah."
"…so cringe," she muttered.
And he—despite everything—laughed.
Chapter 5: Cringe — End.