The morning after Tease opened, the city felt like it had collectively woken from a velvet-laced fever dream.
The tabloids had a field day.
"Kingsley's Sin Palace: The Club That Broke Manhattan."
"Private Rooms, Champagne Showers & Body Paint: Tease Is a Revolution."
"New York very own Las vegas"
Arabella sipped her green juice while scrolling the news on her iPad, every headline somehow more ridiculous and provocative than the last. Yet none of it felt exaggerated.
The club had entered the city like a whispered dare and no one was walking away untouched.
Ava had already sent her five different TikToks of anonymous dancers and masked "VIP clients" in dim, moody rooms rumored to be beneath the main floor. Each clip more suggestive than the last. She'd even messaged Arabella:
đź’¬ Rumor has it that there's a hidden sex club, I want to go before it gets mainstream.
Dorothy followed up with:
đź’¬ Apparently you need a keycard or an invite. Ashton's personal guests only. Figures.
Arabella didn't respond. She couldn't.
Because ever since last night, her mind had been stuck on two things:
The fact that everyone had gone to Tease, and came back with a sparkle in their eyes like they'd seen something forbidden.
Preston still hadn't asked about it. Or felt the need to check up on her.
Not a single text asking why she wasn't there. There mention of her brothers and her friends being at his half-brother's club. Surely, he should have been cutious if she was there.
All she got was just a dry, mechanical good-morning text at 11:07 a.m.
đź’¬ Hope you slept well. Crazy day ahead. Talk later.
Not even a heart emoji.
Later that evening, Arabella arrived at Preston's penthouse in Tribeca, dressed in a powder-blue silk blouse and white tailored pants. Clean. Polished. Like the version of herself she didn't like but he seemed to really love.
She hated that version.
Preston answered the door in slacks and a wine-colored tee, barefoot and distracted.
"Hey," he said, kissing her cheek as he stepped aside. "You look nice."
She stepped in, glancing around the sleek, minimalist apartment. Not a sign of her anywhere. No framed photo, no scarf left behind, no welcome.
"Did you go out last night?" she asked lightly.
He blinked at her. "What?"
"Out. With friends. To Ashton's new club Tease?"
Preston snorted. "Please. I'm not interested in Ashton's circus."
"You didn't go?" she asked, tilting her head.
"No," he said too quickly. "Why would I? I'm not here for the attention grab."
Arabella's brow rose. "Everyone was there. Even my brothers."
"Exactly," he muttered, grabbing a bottle of wine from the kitchen. "Grant's practically glued to Ashton now. It's pathetic."
" Hey, don't talk about my brother like that and in that tone, she responded immediately.
Sorry baby, i was just annoyed.
Yeah, i know you never talk about Ashton unless you're annoyed," she said softly.
"Because he's annoying," Preston replied, pouring two glasses but not offering one to her.
Arabella stared at the countertop. "Your dad seems to think otherwise."
Preston's jaw twitched. "Of course he does."
"He thinks Ashton's new tech start up is the most successful Kingsley-backed venture in years."Preston set the wine bottle down a little too hard. "My father just likes shiny things."
"And your mother?" Arabella asked.
Preston laughed coldly. "Thinks Tease is a brothel. Called it 'distasteful,' then asked if I was still seeing you."
Arabella froze. "What does that even mean?"
"She said you were... modern." He looked at her. "Not her word. You know how she is." She really does like you, she always talks about how perfect you are for me and how we compliment each other and she was happy you didn't associate yourself with going to Tease.
Arabella set down her bag, slow and deliberate. "I'm not going to keep performing for your mother." And how are you so sure I didn't go to Tease last night, my friends were there?
"Because I know you love me Bells and you wouldn't betray me like that " And about my mom you don't have to do anything to impress her, your perfect the way you are. And I would never ask you to change for her or anyone else.
"You know lately for someone who loves me, you have been neglectful," she said, folding her arms. "You cancel plans. You avoid hard conversations. You barely speak unless I bring things up."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" Her voice was low, but sharp. "Preston… are you cheating on me?"
He stiffened, like a man caught mid-step on ice. "What?"
"I'm asking," she said. "Because lately, I feel like a placeholder. Like you're somewhere else when we're together."
"You're being paranoid," he said flatly.
She stepped closer. "Tell me the truth."
"I'm not having this conversation right now."
She felt the slap of dismissal, clean and cold.
"Then when?" she whispered. "When it's too late?"
Preston turned away, glass in hand, staring out at the city like it owed him something.
"You know what I think?" Arabella said, voice shaking. "I think you're so busy competing with Ashton, you don't even realize you're pushing me away."
He didn't turn around. Didn't deny it.
Didn't say he loved her.
That night, Arabella didn't sleep.
She lay in her high-thread-count sheets, staring at the ceiling, her mind spinning through every unanswered text, every clipped conversation, every fake smile at his mother's table.
She was not a girl who begged for affection. She never had been.
And yet here she was waiting.
She opened her phone.
Scrolled past messages from Ava, Dorothy, Emily.
Stopped on a tagged video.
@TeaseNYC again.
A quick flash of Ashton in his club leaning back in a leather chair, suit jacket off, white dress shirt rolled at the sleeves. Laughing with someone off-camera. A glass of dark liquor in hand.
He looked... real. Effortless. It was the first time she saw he smile.
He was a man who didn't need to try to be powerful.
Unlike Preston, who seemed to always be chasing it.
Arabella exhaled.
From their few interactions and Kingsley's household, he always seemed cold, unapproachable, like he was watching everything, every movement, every statement, even her. She wouldn't lie. being around him made her self conscious and nervous. And she never felt that way anywhere in her entire life.
She was going to lie, the first time she saw him, he looked surreal.
She decided not to dwell on it, she had no business thinking about him.
The only thought he had before she fell asleep was if it was time to finally call it quit with Preston. What was the point of prolonging a falling relationship that he wasn't ready to work on.