Vow of Hell by Clara Elroy
Ariadne
“Are your friends expecting me too?” I asked, fixing my green skirt over my legs as I got out of Harry’s Lexus.
I regretted wearing my ivory booties, seeing as the roads were all muddy and filled with puddles. September was not a good month for Astropolis, a far cry from the warm weather still harboring Italy.
I shut the car door behind me, meeting Harry outside.
“They’re not exactly my friends. They’re my boss’s friends. He invited me to go out with them since I managed to sell a commercial property above the asking price.”
“That’s awesome. Look at you, climbing up the corporate ladder.” I tried to muster up some enthusiasm for my response, alas I didn’t quite make the cut when the black in his eyes overpowered the blue.
When I texted him earlier today saying I had gotten back from Italy, I didn’t realize he’d make good on his deal a few hours after my plane landed. I barely had time to water my plants before Harry rushed to my apartment, insisting he’d missed me and I should go out with him tonight.
“Come on, babe, we’ll stay for a bit, and then we can head back to my place, huh?” He didn’t give me a chance to reply.
Harry’s fingers clamped around my wrist, and I forced my legs to work, following him to Siren’s Grill. The restaurant was tucked right next to an MC club, judging by the alarming number of Harleys parked upfront. I couldn’t help feeling like a child, dragged around by her boyfriend, so I put some more pep in my step. I didn’t want Harry’s boss thinking I didn’t like them.
“You don’t have to yank my arm like that. I can walk fine on my own,” I hissed once we made our way inside.
Siren's Grill was buzzing with energy.
Waitresses with tubes for tops glided over the wooden floors as they served over-fried chicken wings and plates teeming with nachos and melted cheese. Crowds were gathered around the red pool tables on the back, eager to see who’d win in the most boring sport ever, in my opinion. And the bar was full as men and women alike downed beer like it was a healing agent.
I guessed in a way it was. I definitely needed some alcohol in me if I was to get any socializing done in my state. Whenever I was tired, I tended to clamp down on the world with clipped answers.
Harry’s grip tightened, and I winced as his fingernails dug crescents into my skin when he pressed a kiss into my cheek.
“Be good,” he cautioned through a smile, leaving a slither of annoyance to foster in my mind. My teeth clashed when he wrapped his arm around my waist, creasing my lilac blouse.
Deep breaths.
Don’t snap.
Deep breaths.
Today is his day. His pushy behavior can be chalked up to nerves. Being invited out by your boss is a big deal no matter who you are.
I repeated that mantra in my head as we rounded up to a group of five people that were on the far left of the dark wood bar, right next to one of the pool tables.
First thing I noticed? How freaking tall everyone was. I was like a midget amongst giants. Even the girls, a blonde bombshell and a brunette with hooded eyes, had to be at least over five feet eight. Two towering stoic figures stood next to them. There was another man. His back was turned as he racked a pool table, but I barely glanced at him once we gained the attention of Harry’s boss.
“Harry, you made it!” A man with mussed brown hair broke off from the lot, abandoning a nacho chip in a guacamole bowl and meeting us halfway, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “I thought you couldn’t come tonight!”
“My appointment at the dentist got postponed last minute,” Harry said, nodding at me. “My girlfriend also wanted to go out tonight, so I thought I’d bring her along too.”
I swung my head to his boss to avoid strangling him for forcing me to participate in his lie. A bright hazel gaze was waiting for me when I did so, taking me in with unabashed interest that had my cheeks flaming.
“Hi, Ariadne Fleur,” I greeted with a tired smile.
“Ares Alsford.” He gripped my palm but didn’t shake it. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss on the back of it, prompting me to giggle at the chivalrous move. Ares’s blinding teeth were on full display as he glanced up at me, ignoring the way my boyfriend stiffened. “Lovely name, Ariadne, does it mean anything?”
He was dripping with charm and slowly gaining the attention of the rest of the gang as they came closer to greet us.
“I’m not sure, but I know there was a Greek princess named Ariadne.”
“Well, you certainly look like one.”
“Simmer down, Casanova,” a deep voice drawled, and I had to take a step back to look all the way up at the newcomer. “Her boyfriend is right there.”
My arteries pumped blood faster as I took him in.
He came back to me like pieces of stained glass. Every feature, leaving its own impact, and all together stealing my breath away. His golden eyes were the first to pop out behind the haze, wicked and hungry like a lion’s. His sharp cheekbones and plush lips tainted berry red as if he’d drunk too many glasses of wine were next, before his nose broke off some of the perfect symmetry of his face. Straight with a slight bump on the middle, that only made him seem a bit roguish. Tainted the appearance of the perfect-looking saint.
Except when you looked beneath the surface, there was something sinister about him. From the mocking curl of his lips to the way his suit hugged his body tight as if he liked downsizing because everyone’s gaze was immediately drawn to his taut muscles. Saint was huge. One of the biggest men I’d ever seen and just as intimidating. I hadn’t come across him ever since the start of summer at my graduation outing, and I wanted to keep it that way.
He couldn’t remember. He was wiped out drunk.
“Ari.” My name on his lips set my heart beating faster.
Okay, so he must’ve overheard it. Or maybe he remembered my face because we used to see each other a lot when we were younger.
“Or was it Brigette? Which name do you like to go by these days?”
My slick palm fell from Ares’s grip and slammed against my side like dead weight. The background blended into muted colors as I focused on playing it cool.
“You remember.”
Way to go. Very cool.
“I do.” His voice was bone-dry, and I could see the dislike running deep in his eyes. He studied me like I was another species he got to ridicule for the night.
“Remember what?”
My peripheral vision sharpened once more, and the world came rushing back one word, laugh, note of music at a time. The familiarity between Saint and I had enraptured everyone’s attention, especially my boyfriend’s as if we were a bad reality TV show. Harry had dropped his hold on me, now standing a whole foot away, and I hadn’t even noticed.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Larry.” Saint laughed, the sound deep and husky before answering his question. “I’ve known little Aria here since she was young. We had the pleasure of bumping into each other at every fashion event there was.”
So, he remembered that too.
“My name is Harry,” my boyfriend reminded, sizing Saint up, not quite biting into his story.
“My apologies,” Saint said, swirling the wine in his glass, not sorry at all.
“Alrighty then,” a female voice called out from behind Ares, and I noticed it was the blonde girl I’d seen before, smiling warmly at me, one hand curled around her swollen belly. “I’m Eliana, this is my husband, Leo, and that’s Sonia, Ares’s girlfriend.”
She pointed to everyone individually, and I could’ve kissed her for breaking up a disagreement that could’ve led down a slippery slope. Together with her husband, they made for a breath-taking couple, and a memory rattled in the corner of my mind as I caught Leo’s unruly light brown curls, and green eyes. They were the couple that was dancing/on the verge of fucking on the dance floor at Bella’s.
I kept that knowledge to myself as I introduced myself back.
They welcomed us to their place on the bar, and Ares convinced me to order one of the beers he insisted they brewed themselves. Harry and Ares both slipped into a natural conversation as the girls gushed over my outfit, helping dilute my nerves whose source of existence was standing just a few feet away, casting a daunting shadow over my head.
“Green and purple, I’m impressed. Never thought those two colors would mesh well together, but you’re rocking it girl,” Eliana said, knocking back her orange juice as if it was a shot.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her there was a difference between lilac and purple. You didn’t correct a pregnant lady; I’d learned that the hard way when Irena was still in mom’s belly.
“Right?” Sonia shared her sentiment, “You gotta tell me where you got them! I’m totally ripping your outfit off. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I actually make my own clothes,” I said with an apologetic smile. “But I could totally suggest some dupes if you’d like. Quite a few of my friends from college have their own shops—”
“Yo, dude are we gonna play, or are you going to keep sucking on your wife’s neck?”
I blinked.
Saint Astor cut me off.
My nostrils flared, and I drew circles on the base of my thumb to avoid using my hands in ways that were not friendly by any means. Like, say flipping him off real good.
“You feeling extra bitter today, Astor?” Leo knocked back, keeping his ass still firmly planted on his stool and Eliana between his legs, his arms reaching around her stomach.
I shifted in my seat to glare up at him, but Saint ignored me as if I wasn’t even there.
He shrugged, taking a sip of his wine before answering. “Extra disgusted is more like it. You’d think you two would’ve calmed down after popping out Bella and now expecting your second kid.” Saint’s eyes sparkled when Eliana turned beetroot red, but she gave back as good as she got.
“As if you don’t do worse on a daily basis, manwhore.”
A wave of laughter floated from a few bikers some tables over, contradicting the dread that took over in my stomach. What was it about this man that duped my body into thinking it was free-falling? Why did I care what he did or who he did it with?
I tightened my palm around my cold beer, appreciating the coolness. It must’ve been a sense of responsibility, a bullshit link that formed the day my grandma broke the news about her impending plans for us.
Nothing more.
“I’m starting to think we should have a room on call for you,” Saint joked, choosing to go down the selective hearing route.
“Stop teasing my wife, fucker.” Leo tugged Eliana back to him by her belt loop and dropped a kiss behind her ear when she drifted a few steps away self-consciously. “Only I’m allowed to do that.”
Eliana threw him a half-hearted glare, but she settled deeper into his arms, half-sitting on his lap as she turned back around to face us. “To answer your question, Sainty. No, he won’t play. I like him where he is.”
“Bummer, I was looking forward to whopping his ass. Your husband is all talk and no action, Narcissus.”
NarcissusandSainty.
They had nicknames for each other.
My path used to cross with Saint every other month when we were younger. He always eclipsed everyone else with his light. He had a sarcastic sense of humor that was perceived as a charming and attractive personality trait when he grew older. I saw the shift in the room once he’d turned eighteen. Suddenly every woman eyed him like hungry sharks in an aquarium, and the men left green trails in their wake.
I’d never managed to gain his attention, and maybe that was what led me to utter my next words. Remnants of some weird infatuation ever since I was young with the most sought-after man in all of Astropolis.
“I’ll play.”
The smile on Saint’s face froze when I spoke, and it took a dip as he turned his body my way, his long legs almost clashing with mine. “You know how to play pool, Brigette?”
I held back a wince at the name, and Sonia popped in on my behalf. “Why do you call her that?”
“Inside joke,” I murmured so he didn’t have a chance to spill the truth. Ignoring Saint’s raised brows, I plowed forward with my newfound braveness. “And yes, I do know how to play.”
I had no idea how to play.
Drumming his fingers along the surface of his wine glass, he nodded once, running his gaze from the tips of my toes to the crown of my head. The nape of my neck heated in response as if someone stroke a match up my spine in line with the speed of Saint’s nod.
There was something seriously wrong with me.
I was craving his attention when I should be running away.
“Let’s go then, Spitfire. Outshining a Fleur comes easy to Astors. Let’s see how long you last.” He used our decades-old rivalry to fuel the fight between us. Our families were the crème de la crème of our community and were pitted against each other at least once a week.
“Challenging me while at the same time calling me a Spitfire? Now you’re just begging to lose.”
“A fierce temper can also lead to a quick burn-out,” he commented flatly, taking the lead and the last word as he headed for one of the pool tables. “Come on.”
I bit my bottom lip in frustration, glancing at the place where Ares and Harry had been a few minutes ago and found nothing but vacant space. I kept losing track of my boyfriend.
“They slipped to the owner’s office,” Sonia clarified, noticing my mystified expression. “Something about a sale.”
I ignored the guilt that slithered into my conscience like a snake and thanked her, hopping off my stool and following Saint. Harry was the one that made me tug along, only to abandon me and go talk shop with his boss.
“So,” Saint started as he bound up to the cue sticks on the wall, and took two out. He turned around and held one in my direction, giving instructions at the same time. “This is a cue stick, and what you want to do is hit the balls with it.”
“And the goal is that they slip inside…” I countered, leaving my sentence hanging for a bit until his eyes narrowed. “The pockets?”
He brushed closer, and I strained my neck to look up at him. Saffron and vanilla tickled my nose, his scent wrapping around me like a python. I sucked my bottom lip in my mouth, an insane corner of my mind wanting to know what it tasted like. What he tasted like.
Saint’s eyes dropped, and he got closer, his stick—cue stick—touching the tips of my pointed booties. “Or slip outside, whatever tickles your fancy.”
“Now you’re just trying to misinform me.”
“I thought you knew how to play, Spitfire.” He arched a brow.
Annoyance slammed home at the nickname. It wasn’t inherently mean, but the way he said it made it sound so. All condescending and scornful. “Stop calling me that.”
“But you’re so quick to come alive, like an angry fire. In a condensed form.” His hand came down to ruffle my hair, and embarrassment wrapped around me like a vice. He was treating me like a child, reminding me of the nine-year age gap between us.
I knocked his hand off with a glare, ignoring the way my skin tingled, and he chuckled, giving me space. “Go ahead. Ladies first.”
Right.
I faced the red pool table, eyeing the faint scratches on the brown edges that showed the wear of time on it. All I had to do was bend down and kick the white ball, so all the others spread.
Seemed easy enough.
“Need some help?” Saint called out behind me, sensing my inner struggle.
“No.” I leaned forward until I had a fish-eye view of the table.
I did know how to do it. I’d watched plenty of movies with pool scenes. You set your thumb underneath the stick, you pushed it back and forth a couple of times, and when you were confident enough, you shot.
I squeaked and stumbled back when the white ball not only shot all the other colored balls but also shot off the table. As in, I literally made an inanimate object fly. A few laughs floated in the air from the people next to us, and I side-eyed them until they looked away.
“Well, that was plain sad.” My live commenter couldn’t help but pop in as he retrieved the ball I’d blasted off.
“Shut up,” I bit back.
Saint set the ball back on the table and came to stand behind me. I snapped my head in his direction, but he forced me to look straight by placing his hands on my shoulders. “Come on, at least give yourself a fighting chance, sweetheart.”
“What are you doing?”
“Feet apart.” He knocked some space between my legs with his foot, and I complied numbly, hyper-aware of his hard body pressed against mine. “You need to distribute your weight evenly between both legs. And then when you bend over, keep your back straight, don’t arch it.”
He fucking bent me over and leaned down on top of me.
My lungs let out air as we both went down. Saint Astor, blanketing me, his arms stretching over mine as he took control of my movements.
I could feel him.
I could feel him every-fucking-where.
His body heat seeped into my back, like a living thing, urging me to comply and lay motionless while he took what he pleased.
“Saint,” I warned, but he hushed me.
“Now, when you hit the ball, there’s no need for excessive force. Sometimes slow and steady does it.” His hot breath rained fire on my cheek, his lips a hair’s breadth away. “Go on, shoot your shot, Spitfire.”
A blind person would’ve shot a better shot than me in my state. I couldn’t concentrate for shit, so I took a deep breath and the leap to tell him what’s been on my mind since the last time I saw him.
“Saint, I’m sorry about that da—”
“No need to apologize for saying what was on your mind.” He cut me off again, his voice losing its previous warmth. I was shivering beneath him, and I didn’t know whether it was because I was cold, or way too turned on when I shouldn’t be.
It was wrong.
So, fucking wrong.
“I was drunk and mean without reason—” I started only to get shut down a third time.
“I was having sex in a public bathroom, sweetheart. You technically did have a reason.” He paused for a brief second, and his nose nudged the side of my face. “I want to know something though.”
I knew I shouldn’t ask, but I did. “What?”
The pulse on my temple throbbed when he feathered his lips over my skin, lowering his head so he could speak directly into my ear. “Was it just the fact that I was breaking the law that riled you up, or was it something more?”
“Why would you say that?” My brain apparently hadn’t gotten the memo that I was at a disadvantage and should shut up.
“You’re not the most straight-laced person I’ve met.”
“You barely know me,” I said matter-of-factly.
“I know enough.” Saint trapped me down harder, still swinging the stick back and forth, a veil of deceit for the public’s eyes. “I know most girls that are in a committed, loving relationship wouldn’t let me do what I’m doing to you right now, Spitfire.”
Jesus Christ, they wouldn’t.
My boyfriend was a few rooms away.
A coppery tang filled my mouth as my teeth ravaged my bottom lip, my nerves getting the best of me. Was I really this starved for attention? I should’ve done the right thing and push him away, but I didn’t want to. My whole body was buzzing with excitement, rendering my brain useless.
“Do you want an oral depiction of our current position in case your mind is too hazy to comprehend it?” he continued, pressing me down harder. The tips of my breasts were flush against the top of the table, my shame burning as red as the scarlet surface.
“You’re bent over the pool table. Barely visible because my body is covering almost all of you, and your ass is rubbing all over my crotch while you’re straining your neck, probably—” Saint’s tongue teased the tip of my ear, and I shuddered in response. “No. Definitely aching for me to grab your hair while you let me take the reins like a good girl. A sight to behold for your little boyfriend, ain’t that right, Spitfire?”
I was a fucking fool for allowing this. The way saliva pooled in my mouth was borderline unfaithful. Five more minutes of his rough palms on my skin, his mouth on my ear, and the imminent heat between my legs, and I’d be drooling all over the counter. I’d be an exhibition for everyone to behold, titled: The effect Saint Astor has on people. Deadly with his words, lethal with his body.
“Saint!” Leo’s warning call slipped through us like a hot-wire.
I thought I heard a groan, either his or mine, as Saint reluctantly detached his front from my back. Goosebumps were left in his wake, my skin raised as if it wanted to keep him there. His heat was deceiving, creating a false sense of protection that all but fled out the window when I twisted and saw Harry emerging from a corridor with Ares.
Saint’s golden gaze was there too, ready to marvel over his work of art. My flaming cheeks, bloody lip, and wild hair. He’d made a mess out of me, and I hadn’t talked back. I laid there and took it.
I gasped when some of the lust-infused smog cleared from my head.
What did I do? What did I let him do?
In damage control mode, I moved a step to the left, using his body as a shield while I smoothed down my hair and shirt that had pooled dangerously low in the front. Saint watched me with an inquisitive gaze and a smirk I craved to wipe out.
“You have more to say?” I hissed.
He shrugged, and I was surprised that he stayed put as I fixed myself up, shielding me. “Your name means most holy, by the way. But guess you’re as much of a sinner as the rest of us.”
I paused as his words sunk in, hooking deep into my soul.
I’d wanted to apologize, make things right because no matter what our families demanded, Saint didn’t owe me anything. What he wanted was to humiliate me and put my character into question. And he succeeded, I’d fallen into his trap like a willing prey, blindfolded and hands tied behind my back.
Dull entertainment filled his face when he caught the doubts swimming in my eyes. The predator was in full display as he gave me his back, prowling back to his friends who witnessed my derailment like I was a mere bump on his road.
Harry’s laughter rang in the air like a wind chime, and they both joined the group at the same time as I wilted on the wooden flooring, gathering myself.
My family’s wish and my defiance.