Ariella's POV
The penthouse I enter is a masterpiece---- very modern and luxurious, all glass walls and polished marble, cold steel and warm wood.
The inner architect is so detailed that it feels like I'm walking into a museum but it doesn't surprise me so much---- as an only daughter I saw and experienced the wealth that many could only dream of.
They say the rich stay in penthouses because it gives them a sense of freedom and power, but right despite the fact of how high I this penthouse is, I can't leave off the feeling that I'm in a cage.
... And you know why.
The seven of them are waiting when I step inside and suddenly the huge room feels too small and the air feels too thin to breathe in
The first person I notice is Rafael who's leaning against the in- built bar with a half empty glass of something amber in his hand.
He smiles at me lazily, "Welcome home, Mrs. Sinclair-Director."
"Don't call me that," I say, bristling at the title but he only smirks.
"You signed the contract, darling. Titles come with the territory."
I cross my arms and try to hide the tremble in my hands. "This is insane."
Damon's voice cuts in, "You're here because your father made it so. Our job is to ensure you understand that."
I meet his cold, gray eyes, feeling my stomach twist at how... robotic and unfeeling his sentence just sounded.
"Understand what?" I ask.
"That you're not in charge here," he says in a flat tone. "We are."
Before I can retort, Carter steps forward and again I catch a glimpse of his tattoos that are visible just under the cuff of his white shirt.
"Easy, Damon," he drawls, "Let's not scare the poor girl on her first night."
He stops just in front of me, and I can feel the heat of his body, just as his voice drops to rough and dangerous edge.
"We've all waited a long time for this, princess."
His words make me step back instinctively, but he follows, grinning darkly at me.
"Are you afraid?"
"No," I lie, though my pulse hammers in my throat.
"Good," he says and leans down into me, his breath hot brushing against my ear.
"Because fear makes things… interesting."
Just then, a noise by the window draws my gaze and when I turn, Luca is lounging there with his legs crossed and his dark hair tousled perfectly.
He watches me like a cat watches a bird, and smiles.
"Don't mind them, darling," he says in a lazy purr.
"They're just eager to see what you're made of."
Jace stands near the fireplace with his arms folded, looking so detached.
"We need to establish a schedule," he says in that calm tone people say he's known for.
"Ariella's time must be managed efficiently."
"A schedule?" I repeat in disbelief.
Elias sighs dramatically at this, "Really, Jace, must you be so boring? Let the girl catch her breath."
Tristan leans against the wall with a playful grin on his lips.
"I say we let her decide. Who do you want to spend your first night with, Ariella?"
The question literally hangs in the air once it leaves his tongue and my mouth goes dry.
"That's enough," Damon snaps suddenly, "We're not children fighting over a toy."
But Carter chuckles. "Speak for yourself."
The tension in the room suddenly feels like a living thing, crawling over my skin and my head spins.
Just when I feel like I'm about to suffocate, Rafael's voice cuts in, "Come with me, Ariella."
He gestures toward a hallway that leads deeper into the penthouse, away from the others and before I can think, I follow him, eager to get away from the many intense eyes watching me.
His suite is dark and I immediately wonder if it's darker than the others.
There's moody lighting, black furniture, and floor- to- ceiling windows that make the view of the city outside look like a living painting.
He closes the door behind us, and suddenly the air feels too thick to breathe in.
"What are you doing?," I say, my voice trembling.
"This obviously isn't my room."
He takes a step closer, locking his eyes on mine. "Nothing much," he murmurs.
My heart races as he reaches for my hand and brushes his fingers against my skin lightly.
"Tell me, Ariella," he says softly. "Are you afraid of me?"
"Yes," I admit.
"That's good."
He steps even closer to and slides his fingers slide up my arm, leaving goosebumps. "But you're also curious, aren't you?"
I swallow hard, feeling my breath catch. "Maybe."
He laughs lowly— a sound that only makes my stomach tighten.
"I like that," he says and lifts his other hand lifts to my cheek, brushing my lip with his thumb.
"You have no idea how many secrets this place holds," he murmurs.
"Secrets about your father, about us and you."
"Then tell me," I ask boldly although my voice is shaking.
"Not tonight."
I open my mouth to protest, but his lips are suddenly inches from mine.
His breath is warm, and his scent, a heady mix of cologne and suddenly danger, washes over me.
"Rafael—"
"Shh," he breathes, bringing his lips so close that I can feel the ghost of a kiss.
"Don't fight it."
My heart pounds so hard that I think it might burst and his hand slides to the back of my neck, curling his fingers in my hair.
I tilt my head up, my lips parting and every nerve on my body on fire as he draws near,
But just before our lips meet, there's a noise from outside---- doors opening and voices raising.
Rafael stiffens, moving his eyes to the hallway. "Damn it," he mutters, tightening his grip on me for a heartbeat before he pulls away.
"Get some sleep, Ariella," he says, "You'll need it."
Then he turns and leaves me there with my heart racing and my lips trembling.
Turns out this is my room.