✍️ Chapter 6: A Game of Masks
The Ryuu family estate in North Ashten was less a retreat and more a fortress built for power.
Hidden in the fog-lined hills above the city, the estate stretched across seven hundred acres of forest and stone. The main house was an old-world mansion carved into the mountainside, with terraced gardens and private courtyards designed for deals whispered over tea and wine—not affection.
Aria had seen it in magazines before. But now, standing at the base of the private drive as the car doors opened, it felt like stepping onto a stage she hadn't rehearsed for.
"You'll behave," Kade murmured beside her as they walked toward the grand entrance. "This is not your usual audience."
She didn't look at him. "Don't worry. I know how to wear a leash when the collar matches the dress."
He stopped walking.
"Aria—"
"Don't," she said quietly. "Not today."
She kept walking.
The event was officially called The Ashten Summit—an annual retreat where titans of industry, old money heirs, and select government advisors gathered to drink, scheme, and casually decide the country's next five years over charcuterie boards.
There were no press. No cameras. Just secrets dressed in silk and armor made of charm.
Kade moved through the room like a shadow with gravity—every conversation bending toward him, every rival offering a tight smile with hidden teeth.
Aria followed at a calculated distance.
Not too close to look submissive.
Not too far to look defiant.
Perfect positioning.
The first true test came during a garden mixer on the estate's western veranda—champagne flutes, string quartet, conversational daggers wrapped in silk.
Aria sipped water.
The hostess—some sharp-cheeked widow with stocks in biotech and a diamond the size of a child's eye—stepped beside her with a practiced grin.
"So," she purred. "You're the one with the contract."
Aria didn't flinch. "Sorry?"
"Let's not pretend. Everyone here knows the marriage isn't real. We're just wondering how long it'll take you to become a liability."
Aria smiled. Perfectly.
"Depends," she said, swirling her drink. "How long until he figures out I'm the only asset in this marriage not trying to liquidate him."
The woman blinked.
Then laughed—sharply. "Oh, I do like you."
"You shouldn't," Aria replied, still smiling. "I'm dangerous when underestimated."
From across the garden, Kade watched her.
He'd expected silence. Deference. Polite appearances.
He hadn't expected her to hold court.
To disarm snakes with her eyes. To pivot insults into applause. To flirt with the board without ever lowering her standards.
He saw something else now.
She didn't just belong here.
She could own this world.
And that terrified him.
Then came the real shock.
As Kade turned from one circle of power to another, a familiar voice cut through the music.
"Still polishing ghosts, Ryuu?"
Kade's body stiffened.
Aria noticed.
The man who approached was tall, lean, slightly older, and had the kind of face that belonged in politics or crime—depending on which side of the room you were on.
He held out his hand with an amused smirk.
"Didn't think I'd be invited this year. And yet…"
"Gideon," Kade said stiffly.
Aria moved closer.
Gideon turned to her. "And this must be the infamous Aria Linh. You're prettier than they said."
Kade's hand closed around Aria's wrist—subtle, protective.
Aria tilted her head. "They say a lot of things. Usually to hide their own fear."
Gideon's smirk widened.
"Oh, she's clever too," he said. "Careful, Kade. You might actually lose this one."