Chapter 4 4.

The day had transitioned into a velvety evening, as the radiant sun bid farewell, surrendering its reign to the luminous moon. Its ethereal glow cascaded upon the land, imparting a serene ambiance to the souls and kindling the hearts of ardent admirers.

Amidst this enchanted world, a woman found herself standing in front of a colossal structure that surpassed the definition of a mere house. It was a mansion-a grandeur that emanated power and opulence. The driver had dropped her off five minutes ago, ensuring the correct address was conveyed twice, yet the area seemed deserted, a desolation that oddly resonated with her preferences. Not a soul of ordinary mortals lingered nearby, sparking a flicker of doubt within her. However, doubt could not be attributed to this situation, for it was everything but an error. The gate bore a conspicuous plaque that read in bold, imposing letters: Vincent Romano.

Curiosity gripped her mind. "Why is no one here if there is an event scheduled for this evening? Has the party been canceled?" She pondered aloud, her voice interrupted by the sudden intrusion of a female voice.

Emerging from the main door, a robust woman with a tablet in her right hand and an earpiece rushed towards her, sporting a small smile on her face.

"Good evening, Ms. Ferrari. I am Maria Denzi, Mr. Romano's assistant. I hope you encountered no difficulties on your way here," she greeted, her voice brimming with genuine concern.

Returning the gesture, Celia nodded and replied, "Good evening, Ms. Denzi. The journey was smooth. I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

Celia's worry began to surface as she expressed her concerns to Maria. "Is the party canceled or over? It seems there are no signs of human presence, except for the guards and their dogs."

Maria's smile persisted as she reassured her. "No, that is not the case. You are here to perform exclusively for Mr. Romano tonight. It is not just a party. You should feel privileged, and we are compensating you accordingly." With confident strides, Maria led the way toward the mansion.

Caught off guard, Celia halted in her tracks. "Wait, what?" she exclaimed, shock coursing through her veins.

Maria's response dripped with arrogance as she confronted Celia's surprise. "Do you have a problem with that? It is your profession, and you shouldn't be startled if someone desires a private performance. Moreover, you should be grateful, considering you will be performing for him. We are paying you the requested amount," Maria retorted, her features reflecting her self-assured demeanor.

As they stepped into the elevator, Maria pressed the button for the third floor. The door closed with a gentle ding, and the elevator began its ascent. The interior was adorned with red carpets, while the walls boasted a combination of white and gold tones. Ancient statues guarded each corner, and an array of paintings and photo frames adorned the walls. Celia's gaze fixed upon a photograph of a couple-a man in his early forties standing beside a woman of the same age, both with radiant faces and delightful smiles.

"They are his parents," Maria informed Celia, breaking her trance. "Please try to focus. We are already ten minutes late, and he won't be pleased. Follow me." Maria swung open a door at the far end of the hall, the creaking sound resonating through the space. The room appeared shrouded in darkness, with only the flickering candles and wisps of smoke indicating its occupancy. Suddenly, a spotlight in the center of the room illuminated the surroundings, providing ample visibility. To Celia's right, a table displayed an assortment of soft drinks, water, and cookies. Doubts began to creep into her mind, amplifying the eerie ambiance of the mansion. She couldn't help but question the absence of anyone besides herself, Maria, and Mr. Romano, alongside the intimidating guards and their loyal canines.

"Once the music starts, you will commence your performance without delay. Understood?" Maria instructed, her voice a mix of information and inquiry.

Celia frowned, her curiosity piqued. "What about him?" she asked, referring to the mysterious Mr. Romano.

"Ms. Ferrari, your audience is already present. You needn't worry about that. Just focus on your work, and afterward, he will personally meet you. Goodbye, and best of luck," Maria bid her farewell, her words laced with gritted teeth.

Celia nodded in acknowledgment and watched as Maria exited the room. Removing her coat and placing her purse on the table, she took a deep breath and strode toward the spotlight, standing beneath its radiant glow. She closed her eyes, centering herself and preparing to offer a captivating performance. Clad in a black, thigh-length frock with bell sleeves, her dark brown tresses cascading down to her waist, she exuded an aura of grace and elegance. Her face adorned with minimal makeup and her lips painted a bold shade of red, she embodied an enchantress ready to captivate the world. As the soft tunes of the music reached her ears, she allowed her body to sway with its rhythm, moving back and forth in a mesmerizing dance.

Lost in her thoughts and movements, she failed to notice a presence emerging before her-a man, entranced by her performance, his gaze fixated upon her. He dared not blink, fearing that any slight movement might cause her to cease or vanish. He yearned to witness her dance forever, embracing every action and reveling in her magnetic charm-an enchantress casting an irrevocable spell.

The soft tunes abruptly ceased, snapping both humans out of their trance. Celia's heavy breaths bore witness to the intensity of her performance, while his racing heartbeat betrayed the depth of his feelings. Startling her, he stepped forward, his gaze locked with hers-dark blue intertwining with black orbs.

"Even the angels would like to go to hell if they witness such an enchantress there," Romano spoke, adding to the chorus of compliments she had received over time. Many had praised her beauty and the rhythmic grace of her movements.

"So, tell me, Mr. Romano, are you one of those angels? Would you venture into hell to witness this enchantress?" Celia inquired, her signature smile adorning her face as she folded her hands beneath her chest. Making her way to the table, she reached for a bottle of water to quench her thirst.

"I am already a sinner of hell, and would occupy the front row of that show. Even if I were to be an angel, I wouldn't mind descending into hell for you, Ms. Ferrari," he replied, standing just behind her, his hands resting on the table on either side, effectively enclosing her within his presence.

Turning around to face him, she tried to create some distance, pressing her body against the table. However, he closed the remaining gap, his right hand sliding around her waist, drawing her closer to him. With his thumb brushing against her lower lip, he gently tilted her chin, ensuring her gaze met his piercing, dark blue eyes. His commanding presence, coupled with his intoxicating cologne, overwhelmed her senses. The proximity became suffocating, setting her ablaze from within. She despised such intimate touches, particularly from men like him.

"Are you behind it all?" she accused him, her words laden with knowledge and reproach.

"What are you talking about, Ms. Ferrari? Pray, enlighten me about the accusation you have levied against me," Vincent feigned innocence.

Attempting to free her hand, she struggled against his grip. "Don't pretend you're oblivious to my words," she seethed.

"Ah, you are truly clever, aren't you? Beauty with a brain-a rare combination," Mister Romano remarked with a toothy grin and a wink. "I will pay you desirely if you spend this night with me."

His words pierced her pride, and instinctively, her hand moved to slap him. But to her dismay, he caught it mid-air. "You are impossible, Mr. Romano. I am not a prostitute. I am done here. Have a good night," she declared, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. With that, she swiftly put on her coat, slung her purse over her shoulder, and fought back tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Meanwhile, Romano gazed at her unwaveringly, absorbing her every movement.

Heading toward the door, she opened it, casting one final glance in his direction before making her way to the elevator. She pressed the button for the ground floor, and as the elevator descended, she called for a cab using her phone. The estimated arrival time displayed on the screen: approximately ten minutes. Payment had already been taken care of by Maria during their call.

"Ms. Ferrari, are you available tomorrow?" Romano's voice echoed irritatingly in the background.

"No," she replied curtly, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I am quite certain that you already have an idea of what I am capable of. So why make things difficult for yourself? Just say yes!" he urged, his patience beginning to wane.

"If you don't stop now, I will file a complaint against you, Mr. Romano," she warned, her voice laced with determination.

"You may do so, if it helps you," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Go to hell," she retorted.

"Oh, darling, I am already there," Vincent replied with a wink, his hands comfortably placed in his trousers.

"You are impossible and utterly ridiculous," she scoffed.

"Not to you, darling," a sly smile played across his face, further irritating her.

"Listen, Mr. Romano. I am merely a visual entertainer, not someone for dating or engaging in physical encounters. Forget about today's incident and find someone else to satisfy your needs. I am not one of them. I do not date or engage in casual affairs. Your reputation demands some shame for your stalking behavior-it doesn't befit someone like you," she justified, hoping to bring an end to the conversation.

Closing the distance between them with long strides, he approached her, his voice laced with menace. "I am an impatient man, Ms. Ferrari. Believe me, if I desire something, I obtain it by any means necessary. I am giving you a choice: say 'yes' now, and everything will proceed smoothly. Say 'no,' and eventually, I will have you, willingly or unwillingly. But you will be the one to face the consequences. Tomorrow at 7, my driver will pick you up. Be ready," he threatened, his anger simmering beneath his words.

"I am merely a performer. I am not a whore or an object to satisfy your desires," tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke.

"I don't care," he retorted callously.

"Fuck you," she spat, her voice trembling with anger and defiance.

"That was precisely my intention, Ms. Ferrari," he smirked, his eyes filled with an unholy desire.

With that, she walked away, refusing to allow him another moment of satisfaction. She hailed the cab, climbed in, and gave her address to the driver, with a blank look covering her features suddenly and the dry eyes removing all the evidence of the moisture which was there just a second back. She looked at him from the rear view mirror.

He saw the car disappear, going to its chosen destination. She will be only one time thing, nothing more and just to satisfy his ego he will have her for once.