Chapter 2
The lights in the bar dimmed, signaling the final call, but the heat between us was only intensifying. I was a mess of tangled hair and hazel-flecked eyes, still clutching his expensive silk tie as if it were a lifeline.
"You're too far gone, Arya," Julian rumbled, his voice a low vibration against my ear. He didn't pull away; instead, his hand tightened on my waist, steadying my swaying frame. "And you're definitely not in any condition to be 'buying' anyone tonight."
I let out a dizzy laugh, the scent of his cedarwood cologne mixing with the lingering metallic tang of my trance. "I have the money. My mission... I need the body. Are you... are you coming or not?"
Julian's jaw tightened. He wasn't a warlock, but he had the predatory instincts of a man who owned half the city. He looked at me—not as a boss, but as a man seeing a beautiful, dangerous puzzle he intended to solve. He didn't correct my "escort" delusion. If I thought he was for hire, I might tell him exactly what kind of trouble I was running from.
"I'm coming," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "But we're doing this my way."
He led me out of the speakeasyand into the crisp night air. A sleek, black towncar pulled to the curb—the kind of vehicle a high-end escort might use to ferry clients, or a billionaire to move through the shadows.
"Where do you live, Arya?" he asked as he slid into the leather seat beside me, the space suddenly feeling far too small.
I leaned my head back against the headrest, my eyes fluttering shut as the Soul Pull hummed in my veins. "Away," I whispered. "Somewhere the Belthazaars can't see the stars."
Julian froze. The name hit him like a physical strike. To him, the Belthazaar Group was the rival firm trying to bankrupt his legacy. He looked at me, his dark eyes narrowing in the passing streetlights.
"What do you know about the Belthazaars?"
I didn't answer. I had drifted into a half-conscious state, my hand searching for his in the dark. When our skin met, the spark was so violent I gasped. I wasn't just a "new hire" anymore. I was his most dangerous liability—and his most intoxicating obsession.
The sun didn't just rise; it stabbed through the thin curtains of my apartment like a celestial blade. I groaned, my head thumping with the rhythm of that phantom "hullabaloo," though this time it was just a regular, earthly hangover.
Then the memories hit me.
The heat. The smell of cedar and expensive scotch. The feeling of a hand—strong, calloused, and terrifyingly human—tightening around my waist. My heart did a slow, painful roll in my chest. It had been so vivid. The way our skin sparked, the way I had practically begged him to be my sacrifice... it felt like a dream. No, a wet dream.
I flushed deep crimson, pulling the duvet over my head. That was a human weakness, a biological glitch for the "mere mortals" I was supposed to be studying, not a celestial being with a mission from Argathar.
"Oh, look who's finally back from the dead," a voice chirped from the doorway.
I peeked out to see Tessa leaning against the frame, holding two mugs of steaming coffee. We had been "sisters" since we were little girls, raised together by the earthly parents the angels had chosen. She was the only one who knew my true identity, yet she was the most human person I knew.
"You were a total disaster last night, Arya," Tessa laughed, crossing the room to set a mug on my nightstand. "I don't know who that guy in the black sedan was—he looked like he walked off a Forbes cover—but he was remarkably careful with you. He carried you to the door like you were made of glass."
I froze, the coffee forgotten. "He... he dropped me off? He didn't come in?"
"He waited until I unlocked the door and took you from his arms," Tessa said, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "He didn't say a word, just stared at you with this look like he'd just found a lost treasure. Then he handed me his card and told me to make sure you weren't late for the Marketing meeting on Monday."
My stomach dropped. It hadn't been a dream. The "male escort" I had tried to buy was Julian Vance. My CEO. And I had told him about the Belthazaars.
"Tessa," I whispered, my hazel eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp fear. "I think I just handed my soul to the one man who can't afford to keep it."
…..
Monday came with the weight of a celestial eclipse. I dressed in the most boring, "earthly" charcoal blazer I owned, pulling my hair back into a tight bun to hide the way my skin still hummed from the weekend's trance. I had to be a ghost. I had to be the reliable, invisible marketing assistant who didn't try to buy her boss at a bar.
I walked into the Vanguard Holdingsheadquarters, my heart hammering a rhythm that felt suspiciously like a warning.
"Arya, Mr. Vance wants the analytics reports in the boardroom. Now," my supervisor barked.
I froze. My legs felt like lead as I walked toward the glass-walled office at the end of the hall. Julian was standing by the window, his back to me. He looked every bit the Aloof CEO—cold, untouchable, and dangerously powerful.
"The reports, sir," I whispered, keeping my eyes firmly on the polished mahogany desk.
Julian didn't turn around. "You're three minutes late, Miss...?" He paused, the silence stretching until it felt like the air was being sucked out of the room. "What was it again? I seem to have forgotten your name over the weekend."
My face burned with the memory of his woodsmoke cologne and the wet dream that had haunted my sleep. He was playing a game. He knew exactly who I was, but he was treating me like a total stranger—a disorganized, incompetent one.
"Arya, sir. Arya... from Marketing."
He finally turned, his dark eyes sweeping over me with a clinical coldness that made the Soul Pullscream in protest. There was no trace of the man who had carried me to my door. There was only the predator.
"Well, Arya from Marketing," he rumbled, his voice as sharp as a razor. "Since you clearly have a habit of 'buying' more than you can afford, let's see if you can actually manage these numbers. If not, I'll find someone who can. You're on thin ice."
I clutched my tablet, my hazel eyes flashing for a split second before I suppressed the spark. He was being intentionally cruel, pushing me to see if I'd slip. He wasn't just a boss; he was a wall of iceblocking my path to the sacrifice.