Chapter four

Ash Night Style

Heat. Danger. Lust. A touch of chaos.

—

The music had slowed but the tension hadn’t. Lights dimmed to a sultry hue, shadows danced across the walls like gossip in motion. The air inside The House had thickened, humid with desire and secrets. Mayla had just

finished her set—red dress clinging like sin, skin dewy, eyes sharp. The room was still

reeling. She’d left them breathless, and she knew it.

But she didn’t stay to bask. She moved.

Straight to the bar.

A trail of stares followed her, but she moved like she didn’t feel a damn thing. Like nothing in the room could touch her. And maybe

nothing could… except the man already

waiting.

Liem Kade leaned against the bar, watching her from beneath half-lidded eyes. Not smiling. Not speaking.

A storm in a tailored suit.

“You’re bold,” she murmured, sliding beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. “Still here?”

“I’m not done watching,” he said, voice low, rough like a cut to the throat.

She turned to him, crossing her arms, chin

tilted. “You watched the show. Now what? Planning to critique my moves?”

His gaze flicked to her lips. “No. Just

wondering how something so lethal could move like that.”

“Flattery?” she scoffed, smirking. “Feels cheap.”

“Who said I’m flattering you?”

He stepped in—closer. Too close. “You look like the kind of woman who breaks things just to hear them shatter.”

“I do,” she whispered. “Men, mostly.”

He laughed under his breath. “Try me.”

Before she could respond, the glass in her hand cracked. Her fingers had tightened

without realizing, her nails digging into the stem. A sharp edge kissed her skin, a thin line of blood forming—ruby against pale.

Liem didn’t flinch.

He took her hand.

Her pulse leapt.

He raised it to his mouth, slow and unblinking. And then—God help her—he kissed the cut. Soft. Deliberate. Dangerous.

Mayla’s eyes flared, fury and hunger battling in her chest.

“You have no idea what you’re playing with,” she hissed.

“And you have no idea what I’ve survived,” he said, still holding her hand.

Then, chaos.

A loud crash. A man in a black shirt stumbled through the crowd, yelling Mayla’s name. One of her old flings—jealous, drunk, and

desperate. Liem’s hand dropped, his entire body shifting like a loaded weapon.

“You ignoring me now, huh? Dancing for them and pretending I don’t exist?” the man barked, approaching fast, eyes wild.

Mayla turned slowly, calm like ice about to crack. “You need to back off.”

“Or what? You’ll have your new boyfriend

handle me?”

Liem stepped in, movements precise and

terrifyingly smooth. “That would be the smart option.”

The man lunged.

Liem dodged like water flowing around a blade. In one clean movement, he slammed the man’s face into the edge of the bar. Blood sprayed. People screamed. The music stopped.

Mayla stood perfectly still, watching with a raised brow. “That was… dramatic.”

Liem turned to her, barely winded. “Was that one of your exes?”

“Hardly. Just a ghost that doesn’t know it’s dead.”

“Now he does.”

Security rushed in, dragging the bleeding man out like trash.

The room settled again—nervous laughter bubbling. But no one came near the bar now. No one dared.

Just Mayla and Liem.

Fire and ice. A perfect storm.

She picked up a napkin, wiped the blood from her palm, and tossed it onto the counter.

Then, she leaned into him again, lips close to his ear. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

Her breath hitched.

“Dangerous choice,” she whispered.

“I only make those,” he murmured back.

They stayed like that for a moment, hovering on the edge of something violent and inevitable.

Then she turned away, her fingers trailing down his chest as she passed.

“See you around, Mr. Kade.”

And just like that, she disappeared into the velvet dark.

Liem sat back down, heart thudding.

He didn’t know what that woman would do to him.

But he wanted all of it.

Even if it killed him.

...****************...

THE DEAL

The bar still pulsed with low lights and slower songs, but Mayla had already slipped from the gravity of Liem Kade’s stare. She left him there, his glass half-full, his lips still tinged with the ghost of her touch, and his eyes locked on her retreating silhouette.

She didn’t look back. She never did.

Past the velvet ropes and the haze of smoke, Mayla moved through the hallways of The House like she was born inside its bones. Every curve of the building knew her. Every wall had heard her voice. But this time, she wasn’t heading to a dressing room or the back exit. This time, it was the long, winding climb to the top floor.

To her.

Miss Ramona.

The woman behind everything that happened in The House. The whisper behind every

contract, every body sold, every secret kept. She was the empire and the empress, all in one.

Mayla entered without knocking. The air in the office was different—heavier.

The lighting low and gold. A massive screen blinked silently behind a dark wooden desk, still showing footage from the bar.

And there she was.

Miss Ramona. Reclined in her velvet chair, pen tapping against a thick stack of papers, glasses perched low on her nose, gray curls pinned back like an aging queen. Her face didn’t even twitch when Mayla stepped in.

She looked up slowly, her eyes sharp,

calculating, tired of pretending. “I guess you’re doing what you’re best at,” she said dryly. “Causing problems wherever you go.”

Mayla gave her a sly smile, teeth showing just slightly—like a fox just caught in the henhouse. “Oh, Miss Ramona… I would never.

Not in our establishment.” Her tone was silk, her gaze unapologetic.

There was mischief in her, always. A trace of chaos she never bothered to hide.

Miss Ramona leaned back in her chair,

unimpressed but not surprised. “You never stop, do you?” She dropped the paperwork onto the desk with a sigh. “But at least you caught the most important person in the

building tonight.”

Mayla raised an eyebrow, half-laughing. “Wait—who? You mean Mr. Liem?” She rolled her eyes playfully. “Please. He isn’t even a

challenge.”

Ramona tilted her head, studying her. That look she gave when she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or strike. “Well, if you say so. But I trust you’ll make sure he keeps coming back.”

Mayla stepped forward, slowly, like a lioness circling. “And if I do?” she asked. “What’s in it for me?”

Ramona folded her hands, her voice low, firm. “Get the job done… and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Mayla froze for a breath. Something in her chest tightened—hope, disbelief, a fragile whisper of possibility.

“Anything?” she asked.

Ramona didn’t blink. “Anything.”

The words settled in the room like smoke.

Mayla stared, the glint in her eye dimming for just a moment. She hadn’t dared imagine

freedom in years. The thought of it was a wound, half-healed, never touched. She had been sold to Miss Ramona like furniture—bought with blood and IOUs. Raised in the dark. Taught to seduce, manipulate, survive. Every step she’d taken had been on glass.

And now… one man. One strange, powerful man… could be her ticket out.

She smiled, slow and sure. “Deal,” she said. “I’ll make sure to not disappoint.”

Miss Ramona nodded once, her face

unreadable.

But as Mayla turned to leave, the older woman leaned back in her chair with a small, twisted smile curving her lips.

She knew something Mayla didn’t.

Something about Liem Kade.

Something no one in this city could control.

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