Behind The Close Doors

Ella’s POV

“This place is a circus,” Ling muttered, her voice slicing through the hum of crystal and subdued laughter. Her sharp eyes swept the crowd, dissecting it without subtlety.

I tilted my head slightly, letting a small smile curve my lips.

“A profitable one.” My words were soft, almost to myself, but I knew Ling heard them.

She always did.

I smoothed my dress—a sleek black number that clung to me like a secret—and stepped into the grand hall. Conversations faltered, and whispers prickled at the edges of my hearing. Some gazes lingered, hungry; others darted away as if caught in a silent trespass.

The Van Burren estate glittered with opulence—crystal chandeliers, golden filigree, and ice sculptures glowing under soft light. The centerpiece, an enormous phoenix with outstretched wings, caught the flickering glow—a reflection of me: beautiful, admired, and entirely frozen, as though life’s warmth had abandoned me long ago.

This wasn’t my first charity gala, and it wouldn’t be my last. For the men, it was a chance to flaunt their wealth under the guise of altruism. For me, it was business—demanding sharp instincts, perfect control, and a practiced smile to hide my unease.

Tonight, that unease came from Bob, my manager. A last-minute change of plans: my original client was replaced by Mason, at three times my usual rate. Money like that came with strings, but I no longer asked questions.

The hum of conversation quieted, replaced by the sharp clink of a glass. I turned to the stage, where Martha Benjamin stood, commanding the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, her voice warm and authoritative, “It’s an honor to welcome Mr. Maximus Ward, a true visionary in technology and innovation.”

I followed her gaze to the man stepping into the light, and the air around me seemed to shift.

Maximus Ward.

He stood tall, his dark suit perfectly tailored to his broad frame, but it wasn’t the suit that made him striking. It was his eyes. Vivid green, intense, and haunted—held a sorrow, an emptiness that I recognized all too well.

Just then, our eyes met for a brief second, and there was a spark, a recognition. A strange pull between us that neither of us could ignore. It startled me in a way I wasn’t ready to admit.

“Who’s he?” I asked Ling, keeping my voice low. I couldn’t help the curiosity creeping into my tone.

“That’s Maximus Ward,” she replied, her eyes darkening slightly.

“Tech billionaire. Heir to Ward Technologies. Brilliant, but…” She paused, her tone softening. “Broken. His fiancée died in a car accident two years ago. He’s never been the same.”

My gaze lingered on him, studying the tension in his jaw, and the way his hands stayed firmly in his pockets.

“Does he ever—”

“No,” Ling cut me off with a knowing smirk. “Not our world. But I hear he hires girls like us. Quietly.”

I let the words sink in, my lips curving into a faint smile. There was something about him that didn’t quite add up—something that made me want to look twice.

Before I could say anything more, Martha was already moving toward him, her tone soft but insistent.

“Maximus, my dear,” I heard her say, her voice low enough to sound almost maternal.

“You’ve become a prisoner of your loneliness.”

His response was quieter, but I caught the gist of it. He brushed her off, insisting he was fine. Content. But his eyes told a different story.

And then, out of nowhere, he collided with me.

The impact wasn’t much—just a light bump—but it felt like everything stopped.

My breath hitched as our eyes locked. His gaze, sharp and searching, bore into mine, and for a moment, I forgot where I was.

“Watch where you’re going,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. There wasn’t any real bite to the words, though.

“No harm done,” I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the jolt of energy his presence left behind. His eyes lingered on me for a heartbeat longer before he stepped back, blending into the crowd.

Ling’s elbow nudged me, pulling me back to the present.

“Don’t get distracted,” she said, her tone low but firm.

“I never do,” I replied, my voice smooth and steady. My gaze swept the room, cataloging faces and filing away details.

“What was that?” Ling asked, her voice cutting through the strange haze he’d left behind.

“Nothing,” I said quickly.

But my cheeks felt warm, and I hated how obvious it probably was. I glanced over my shoulder, and there he was—watching me.

His eyes locked with mine again, and this time, it felt like we were having a silent conversation neither of us fully understood.

Ling nudged me sharply. “Mr. Mason’s here. He’s been asking for you.”

I snapped out of it, my gaze shifting to the man standing near the entrance.

Older, sharp-eyed, and exuding a quiet menace that made my stomach tighten. I forced a polite smile, smoothing out the edges of my expression as I approached.

“A drink with me?” Mason said, a playful glint in his eyes. “I guarantee you won’t find better company tonight.”

I hesitated for the briefest of moments. Something about him made my instincts flare, but I buried it.

“Of course,” I said, my tone light.

As Mason led me away, I couldn’t help but steal one last glance at Maximus. He was still watching me, and for a moment, I felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. A strange pull I couldn’t explain tugged at me, but I forced myself to look away.

Behind me, I heard a shift in the crowd, and I caught the low murmur of a conversation. Ling’s voice, sharp as always, was now tinged with something like caution.

“The woman you were with,” a deep voice asked, sounding more urgent than I expected.

“Ella. How do I... reach her?”

I couldn’t hear Ling’s response, but the way she paused made something cold slither down my spine. Maximus’s question echoed in my mind, the intensity of his voice still lingering in the air between us.

I turned my attention back to Mason, but my thoughts kept drifting back to that gaze—the one that never left me even as we walked out of the room.

I stepped into the suite at the top of the Grand Avalon Hotel, my heels clicking softly on the polished floor. Luxury oozed from every corner—rich oak furniture gleamed under the soft glow of the chandelier, and a bottle of champagne chilled on a silver tray, waiting.

The floor-to-ceiling windows framed a panoramic view of the city, the lights shimmering like distant stars, but none of it could settle the tight knot of unease in my stomach.

Mason closed the door with a soft click, the sound echoing in the heavy silence. He turned the lock, and a shiver ran down my spine. I stood by the window, my reflection blending with the city lights, trying to steady my racing thoughts.

“You know,” Mason’s voice sliced through the quiet, smooth but with an undercurrent that made my skin prickle, “I’ve been looking forward to this all evening.”

I turned to face him, quickly slipping back into my professional mask, the one I’d worn countless times before.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I replied, my tone light and playful, the practiced dance of allure and distance in my voice, keeping him intrigued but never too close.

His smile stretched across his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He closed the distance between us, his presence suddenly heavier, more imposing, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon.

“Take off your top,” he said, his voice low, thick with intent.

I hesitated for just a moment, the weight of his command sinking in, but I didn’t let it show.

My smile stayed in place, a mask I was determined to keep intact. I took a step closer, my voice teasing, trying to steer the moment into something manageable.

“We’ve got all night,” I said lightly, brushing off the tension.

“How about a drink first? A little time to relax?”

His gaze sharpened, his expression turning intense.

“I didn’t bring you here for drinks,” he replied, his tone shifting into something darker, something that made my pulse quicken.

“Now, be a good girl and do as I say.”

“Take it off now,” Mason repeated, his voice thick with lust, his eyes locking onto mine with a hungry gleam.

My stomach flipped, but I stood my ground, refusing to let him see how much it unsettled me.

“I need to see your bosom.”