CHAPTER 4: WHAT HE FAILED TO SEE

~CLARA'S POV~

“Watch how low you are, little bird.”

His voice came low and cold against my ear, the kind of tone that slipped beneath my skin and stayed there.

My reflection stared back at me in the dim light—flushed cheeks, trembling lips, tangled hair spilling over my shoulders. I barely recognized the woman trapped in the glass. She looked small standing beside him. Fragile.

Ares’s fingers curled tighter into the collar of my tailored blazer.

For one suspended second, neither of us moved.

Then, with a brutal, commanding tug, he ripped the heavy charcoal jacket off my shoulders, sending it flying across the floor. His hands immediately found the buttons of my blouse, tearing through the silk of my camisole underneath with an impatient fury. Cool air rushed over my exposed skin, making a violent shiver crawl through me. Heat and humiliation burned together in my chest as he pressed my bare back tighter against him, the cold surface of the mirror biting against my skin.

I gasped softly, my palms flattening instinctively against the glass.

Behind me, Ares towered like something carved from shadow and winter.

"Ares..." I murmured, the defiance I had shown him in the hallway dissolving into a breathless question as a sudden, mechanical hum filled the quiet space between us.

"Obey," he said coldly, his voice vibrating against my neck.

The device made a low buzzing sound as he pressed it in a slow, torturous motion against my already wet and throbbing center. My legs trembled instantly, toes curling against the floor while heat coiled tighter in my stomach. Every movement sent another unbearable pulse through me, sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs.

I hated how quickly my body betrayed me. I hated that I was chasing a release—a violent, desperate one—from the very man who ruined me.

"Fuck..." I moaned, a soft, strangled cry tearing out of me. It was a word of unadulterated need.

The moment he noticed I was on the absolute brink of an orgasm, he pulled it away entirely, intentionally leaving me stranded at the edge.

"Ares…” I whispered, a desperate plea for completion tearing from my throat.

“Quiet.”

The single word cut through me like ice. With a sudden, dismissive shove, he let go of my wrist, letting the lack of support send me tumbling down to the cold floor.

The coldness of the polished floor hit my bare skin like a physical slap, shocking my nervous system and scattering the hazy pleasure.

I lay there for a second, my cheek pressed against the dark marble, my chest heaving as the raw, unfulfilled ache between my thighs throbbed in protest. The violent contrast of the blistering heat he had just built up inside me against the absolutely freezing temperature of the floor made me shiver uncontrollably. Tears of frustration and deep humiliation pricked the corners of my eyes, but I forced myself to swallow the sob rising in my throat.

Above me, the slow, methodical click of his lighter cut through the heavy silence of the bedroom.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my tangled hair falling over my shoulders as I looked up. Ares stood towering over my sprawled form, completely unbothered by the chaos he had just unleashed in my body. He ignited a dark, expensive cigarette, the tiny orange flame throwing the harsh lines of his jaw into sharp relief before he exhaled a thin stream of gray smoke toward the ceiling. His eyes looked down at me with an icy detachment, as if I were nothing more than a broken piece of machinery he had finished testing for the night.

"You forget yourself so easily, Clara," Ares murmured, his deep voice dripping with an unsettling, calm authority. He took a slow drag, his gaze tracking the visible tremble in my limbs. "You aren't here to be satisfied. You are here to serve a purpose. The moment you start chasing your own release, you cease to be useful."

He walked over to the edge of the bed, stepping right past my hand as if I were invisible, and picked up the heavy silver chain attached to my collar. With a casual, almost careless flick of his wrist, he tossed the metal links down onto the floor next to my face. The sharp, metallic clatter echoed loudly off the walls, a definitive reminder of the fifty-million-dollar price tag currently hanging around my neck.

"Clean yourself up," Ares commanded, turning his back on me as he walked toward the heavy oak doors of the bedroom. He paused at the threshold, his broad shoulders framing the dim light of the corridor outside. "Your administrative shift begins at exactly seven tomorrow morning. I expect the preliminary logistics breakdown for the Vance Shipping infrastructure on my desk before the first board member arrives. Don't be late, little bird."

The door clicked shut behind him, the lock engaging with a final snap that plunged the room back into a suffocating twilight.

I stayed on the floor for a long moment, the burning rage in my soul finally overtaking the desperate heat in my veins. I reached out, my fingers wrapping tightly around the cold silver chain, the metal biting into my palm until it bruised. He wanted to break me. He wanted to use my body and my family's ruin to turn me into a mindless, submissive shadow.

But as I pulled myself up into a sitting position, my eyes catching the dark, encrypted file folder of Project Acer sitting undisturbed across the room in my briefcase, a cold, sharp blade of survival crystallized through my anger.

Ares Volkov thought he had bought a helpless captive to dismantle.

Do to me all you want, Ares, I thought, staring at my reflection until my trembling lips flattened into a hard, uncompromising line. Every time you look down at me, you'll miss the knife I'm sharpening right in front of you.