Lesson Number One

The Harlow estate was always defined by a suffocating, almost sterile order, meticulously maintained by the iron grip of Sebastian and Amara Harlow. But on the nights when the massive mahogany front doors clicked shut behind them, the luxurious villa shed its aristocratic decorum, transforming into an exclusive, pulse-pounding underground club. Heavy bass line vibrations rattled the crystal chandeliers, and the air in the high-ceilinged living room grew thick with the scents of expensive cologne, cigarette smoke, and top-shelf liquor.

Jack was entirely in his element. Holding a crystal tumbler of aged scotch in one hand, he laughed loudly with a group of friends near the bar, exuding the effortless charisma of a privileged heir. Across the room, sprawled on a plush velvet sofa, his best friend redefined the concept of casual arrogance. Zachary sat with his legs spread wide, a loose strand of dark hair falling over his forehead. A girl was perched comfortably on each of his thighs, and Zach leaned back, soaking in their undivided attention with a lazy, razor-sharp smirk.

By four in the morning, the party was winding down. The remaining guests were either passed out on the leather sectionals or stumbling out toward ordered Ubers.

Zach stepped out of the upstairs bathroom, casually rebuttoning the top two buttons of his dark dress shirt. Behind him followed a heavily tattooed brunette in a sheer top, adjusting her bangs in the hallway mirror. Before he could reach the top of the grand staircase, a dull thud—a heavy impact followed by the sharp clinking of rolling glass—echoed from the far end of the corridor.

He stopped in his tracks, the brunette bumping softly into his back. Zach narrowed his eyes at the white paneled door at the end of the hall: Aria’s room. With a quick gesture over his shoulder, he signaled for the girl to head downstairs without him. He wanted to make sure no stray, drunk college kid had stumbled into Jack’s younger sister’s room.

Without knocking, Zach turned the brass handle and pushed the door open. The sight inside caught him completely off guard.

Aria was sprawled on the dark hardwood floor beside her bed, her silk dress slightly rucked up her thighs, a nearly empty bottle of gin rolling lazily across the rug beside her hand. Her long, dark blonde waves fell over her face, flushing red from the sheer amount of alcohol in her system.

“Aria?” he huffed, amusement lacing his voice, though his long stride immediately carried him into the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Ah, fantastic… are you done fucking her?” she rasped, her green eyes unfocused as her words slurred together.

It was instantly clear to Zach that little Harlow had blown right past her limit tonight. Smirking, he dropped to one knee beside her, his large hands gripping her arms with firm gentleness to pull her up so she could lean back against her bedframe.

“What are you doing to yourself, sweetheart?” he asked, the pet name dropping from his full lips with a playful, almost taunting warmth.

“I was sitting here listening to you help that girl hit high notes through the wall,” she muttered, glaring at him with heavy eyelids. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Ouch… somebody grew up and learned how to bite, huh?” Zach chuckled softly, shifting his weight to sit cross-legged on the floor directly in front of her.

He studied her for a few quiet seconds. Her green eyes, wide and painfully transparent, held a raw, genuine frustration that wasn’t just drunken rambling. His teasing smile faltered for a fraction of a second, replaced by a sharper, more focused gaze.

“Woah, hold on,” he said, his tone dipping lower, testing the waters. “What’s with the attitude? Are you jealous or something?”

“I’m not jealous!” she snapped, her voice cracking slightly. “I’m just sick of hearing the exact same thing every single time you come over. Can’t you at least make them be quiet?”

“As if you wouldn’t be just as loud,” he huffed with an arrogant scoff.

The effect was instantaneous. Aria froze. The color drained from her face for a second before a deep, scorching blush rushed up her neck, painting her cheeks and chest a bright, burning red. She dropped her gaze to her lap, suddenly intensely overwhelmed with embarrassment.

Zach stilled, his dark eyes tracking every detail of her reaction. An absurd, unbelievable thought crossed his mind, making his brows furrow in genuine shock.

“Wait a second…” Zach breathed out, leaning in slightly. “Are you still a virgin?”

“Yes! Obviously!” she retorted defensively, her jaw clenching as she tried to pull her knees to her chest. “My parents made it very clear that virginity isn’t just something you give away. It’s sacred. There has to be love for there to be actual attraction, otherwise it’s just dirty.”

Zach let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head as a dark, intoxicating smirk slowly re-emerged on his face.

“Oh, princess… you have been lied to so badly.” He tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You don’t need to love someone for your body to catch on fire.”

“Really? You think I’m actually buying that crap?” she huffed, attempting a defiant glare that failed under the weight of her intoxication.

“You don’t believe me?” Zach’s voice dropped into a smooth, velvet register. He leaned forward until the scent of his cologne—sandalwood, rain, and a trace of smoke—completely enveloped her. “What if I prove it to you?”

“Go ahead then! Prove it!” she challenged, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“Not like this, little Harlow,” Zach stopped her, lifting a hand to gently brush a stray blonde wave away from her flushed cheek, his thumb lingering just a second too long against her jaw. “You’re dead drunk, and I have zero interest in listening to you cry tomorrow morning about how I took advantage of you. But… I can teach you. Step by step. Starting tomorrow. What do you say? If I prove you wrong?”

Aria stared at him through the hazy fog of the alcohol, her breath hitching as her eyes dropped to his lips—lips that had spent the night whispered into someone else’s ear, but were now offering her a dangerous way out of her own cage.

“Then… I guess I’ll end up in your bed,” she whispered, a reckless wave of bravery washing over her. “But at least it’ll be with someone I actually trust.”

Zach’s smirk deepened into something wicked, a quiet chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. He stood up in one fluid, towering motion, looking down at her as she leaned weakly against the bed.

“Get some sleep, Aria. Tomorrow, lesson number one begins.”

He turned and walked toward the door, stopping with his hand on the brass knob. He cast one last glance over his shoulder, his dark eyes scanning her small, curved frame resting on the floor before slipping out into the quiet hallway.

Left alone in the dim bedroom, Aria buried her face in her hands, her heart wildly hammering against her ribs. The drunken fog was still heavy, but one thought burned through it with terrifying clarity: she had just made a deal with the absolute worst person possible—her brother’s best friend—and there was no turning back now.