Chapter 2 The Masked Devil's Rules

The morning after the summons, Aria felt like a different person.

She stared at her reflection in the antique mirror, barely recognizing the girl with tangled hair and haunted eyes. The girl who had been tricked.

Bought. Owned.

No. Not owned. Never owned. A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Evie peeked in, holding a steaming mug. "Brought you coffee. Blackthorn-style. It might burn a hole through your soul."

Aria took it, managing a weak smile. "Thanks."

Evie sat cross-legged on the bed. "So... you saw him?"

"Lucien Vale?" Aria said bitterly. "Yeah. He's as arrogant and twisted as they say."

Evie blinked. "He actually talked to you?" "He said I belong to him. Because of the scholarship contract."

Evie went quiet.

"Do you know about this?" Aria asked. "Tell me the truth." Evie hesitated. "Only the rumors.

That some scholarships are part of an elite selection. That those students... become part of something bigger. Something secret."

"Like a club?" Evie shook her head.

"More like a cage."

Later that morning, Aria found a small black envelope in her locker. Inside was a typed card:

Miss Winters,

Report to the library tower at noon. Wear black. Do not be late. – L.V.

Her hands shook.

She looked around.

Students walked past like nothing was wrong.

As if this was normal. As if she wasn't slowly being dragged into something she didn't understand.

At exactly 11:59 AM, Aria stepped into the North Tower Library. It was empty, silent, and smelled of dust and old secrets. Stained-glass windows filtered red and blue light across the marble floor.

Lucien Vale stood near the window, his back turned to her. He wore a sharp black coat, and his silver mask caught the sunlight like a blade.

"You followed the rules," he said, not looking at her.

"I didn't come for you," she snapped. "I came for answers."

He turned, slow and deliberate.

"You want answers?" he said, stepping closer. "Fine."

He placed a thick leather-bound book on the table between them. Its cover was marked with a gold emblem-a crown, a mask, and a bleeding rose.

"This is your first assignment."

She blinked. "A book?"

"Read it. Memorize every symbol. Every name. This book is older than this university. It holds the truth about the Elite Circle."

"The what?"

Lucien leaned closer, his voice dropping. "The society that runs Blackthorn. The one your contract just pulled you into."

Her mouth went dry. "You're telling me... this school is run by a secret society?"

"No. I'm telling you the world is."

Her knees almost gave out.

He smirked. "You'll learn," he said.

"Or you'll burn."

The next few days blurred into a strange new rhythm.

Classes in the morning. Coded notes in her locker. Midnight meetings in shadowed corners of the campus. And Lucien-always watching. Always near.

He didn't touch her. He didn't even raise his voice. But his presence... it wrapped around her like a chain she couldn't see, only feel.

And then came the rules. Delivered by envelope. Sealed with wax.

RULES OF THE CONTRACT

1. You do not speak about the Elite Circle.

2. You do not deny a direct order from your assigned handler.

3. You do not form romantic attachments outside the Circle.

4. You do not break curfew.

5. You do not disobey Lucien Vale. Ever.

Aria crumpled the paper. "This is sick," she muttered. Evie tried to smile. "It's survival." "I'm not just going to obey him like I'm his pet." Evie shrugged. "Then you better run. Fast." Aria stared at the sky from the dorm window. She didn't run. And part of her... didn't want to.

Friday Night – The First Masquerade

Aria stood frozen in front of her mirror, wearing the dress that had been mysteriously laid out on her bed: black velvet, off-the-shoulder, with silver threads that shimmered under the lights.

A note had been pinned to the bodice.

You'll wear this.

You'll wear the mask.

And you'll dance with me. – L.V.

Evie squealed when she saw her.

"Damn, girl. If I didn't know you were doomed, I'd say you look hot."

Aria rolled her eyes. "You think this is a joke?"

"I think Lucien Vale doesn't ask. He commands. And right now, you're his favorite obsession."

The ballroom was hidden beneath the east wing of Vale Manor, behind a carved bookshelf that slid open when Aria pushed on the crown symbol.

Inside, candlelight glowed over white marble and crimson curtains. Masks gleamed. Music played low and seductive. Dozens of elite students danced, laughed, whispered.

Aria stepped in, heart racing.

A hundred masks turned toward her.

Whispers followed. "She's the new one."

"That's the girl Lucien claimed." "She won't last a week."

Then he appeared. From the shadows.

Lucien Vale.

His mask covered only half his face again, the other half lit by gold and flame.

He walked up to her without a word. Took her hand. And pulled her into the dance. Their bodies moved like they had done this a hundred times.

She hated how easily her body followed his lead. How the music seemed to slow when he looked at her.

He leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. "You're doing well," he murmured. "I'm not yours," she hissed back. He smirked. "You signed the line." "You tricked me." "You still signed it."

She shoved his hand away and stepped back. But the music stopped. And everyone else stopped dancing.

Lucien didn't blink.

"Walk away, and you'll regret it."

Aria lifted her chin. "I'm already regretting everything." She turned. And walked out of the ballroom. That night, she found a note under her pillow.

You were brave. Reckless. Dangerous. I like that. But next time you walk away... I'll make sure there's no door to run through.

– L.V.