Velvet chose the meeting place herself. A rooftop bar overlooking the city, where the skyline glittered like a crown of glass and steel. The music was soft, the lighting dim, the kind of place where whispered confessions and veiled threats blended seamlessly.
She arrived precisely on time, dressed in black satin that shimmered under the low lights. Her mask was gone—there was no need for disguises tonight. If Sebastian Kane wanted to see her unguarded, she would let him. But she would not let him win.
He was already there, of course. Sebastian never arrived late to anything he planned. He sat at a corner table, back to the view, so that the city framed her as she approached. His tailored suit was midnight dark, his glass of whiskey untouched.
"Velvet," he greeted, his voice smooth, carrying the weight of authority. "Or do you prefer another name tonight?"
She slid into the seat opposite him, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Velvet will do. After all, it's the name you can't stop whispering."
Sebastian's eyes flickered, the faintest glint of amusement—or perhaps hunger. "You put on quite the show. The reveal, the promises. You have them all convinced you're untouchable."
"And yet here you are," she replied lightly, crossing her legs. "Trying to touch."
His laugh was low, dangerous. "You mistake me, darling. I'm not like them. I don't worship idols. I break them."
Velvet leaned forward, her gaze steady, unflinching. "Then perhaps you've chosen the wrong goddess."
The words hung between them, charged. Sebastian tilted his glass, swirling the amber liquid without drinking. "Do you know why I'm here?"
"To intimidate me." She spoke before he could. "To remind me of your reach, your power, your ability to pull strings behind the curtain. You want me to know that every rumor, every whisper, has your fingerprints on it."
"And does it scare you?" he asked softly, studying her as though she were a specimen.
Her smile widened, sharper now. "It excites me."
For the first time, Sebastian's composure cracked, if only slightly. His fingers stilled against the glass. She had taken his threat and turned it into invitation, shifting the balance.
"You play a dangerous game," he murmured.
"And you," she countered, "think you're the only one allowed to play."
Silence stretched, filled only by the hum of the city below. They were two predators circling the same prey, except the prey was each other.
Sebastian finally raised his glass, sipping slowly. "What is it you want, Velvet?"
She tilted her head, feigning thought. "To be remembered. To be obeyed. To be irresistible."
"And what happens when the crowd moves on? When their obsession fades?"
She leaned closer, her voice a whisper sharp enough to cut. "Then I'll find new ways to bind them. Desire doesn't fade—it transforms. And I've mastered the art of transformation."
Sebastian's gaze darkened. "You sound like me."
"Perhaps we're mirrors," Velvet said softly. "You reflect power through fear. I reflect it through desire. But the result is the same. Control."
The admission startled even herself, but she did not flinch. It was the truth, and truth, when wielded, was sharper than lies.
Sebastian leaned back, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, he simply studied her, as though weighing whether to crush her now or let her rise higher before he struck.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. "Very well. If this is a game, then let's play. But remember, Velvet—" He set his glass down with a deliberate click. "—I never lose."
Velvet stood, her satin gown catching the light like spilled ink. She leaned down just enough so her lips nearly brushed his ear. "Then you've never played against me."
Without waiting for his reply, she walked away, her heels echoing against the polished floor.
Sebastian watched her go, the faintest smile lingering at his lips. For the first time in years, he had met an opponent who didn't merely resist him—she challenged him.
And Sebastian Kane loved nothing more than a challenge.
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