Their love was a canvas. Their betrayal, a masterpiece of ruin. Celene Mareaux painted with her heart and bled through her art-until Adrian Holt touched her world with fire and left only ashes behind. He was the storm she welcomed, the silence that stayed after thunder. And when he walked away, he took more than her trust. He took her voice. Now, fate pulls them back into the same orbit, where old scars ache like fresh wounds and the air between them is thick with unsaid things. He speaks of love in half-whispers. She answers with guarded glances and unfinished sketches. But between them still lives the memory of something too wild to name-and too tender to forget. In a world of gallery lights and whispered apologies, of broken promises and stolen nights, Celene must decide: Is love worth the second sin? Or is healing found only when the past is left untouched? How many sins can one heart endure before it stops beating for the one who keeps breaking it?
The bass throbbed low-slow, like a lover's breath just before the kiss. Velvet smoke curled in the air of Valerio Noir, the exclusive, members-only club where secrets wore silk and sins came dressed in stilettos.
Celene Rivera adjusted the black mask over her eyes as she stepped behind the red velvet curtain, heart hammering like a warning. She could feel it-hundreds of eyes waiting beyond that veil of light, but one pair in particular burned hotter than the rest. He hadn't spoken to her. Not once. But he came every Thursday.
He always sat in the second-floor booth. Alone. Watching.
Tonight, she was dancing for him.
The curtain pulled back, and she walked out barefoot, wearing nothing but a silver-strapped bodysuit that clung like skin and shimmered under the spotlight. The room hushed. The music dropped to a low hum, like danger approaching in the dark.
She moved-slow, feline. Each sway of her hips was deliberate, each glance over her shoulder intentional. But her gaze never reached the shadows where he sat. She didn't need to. His presence was a pull on her spine, magnetic and cold.
She could feel him.
He always wore black. Never smiled. Never drank. He simply sat-legs spread wide, elbow on the armrest, fingers on his jaw, as if calculating which part of her soul he wanted to bite first.
She twirled, dropped low, arched her back. The air shifted. That same chill. He was watching.
By the time the music faded, her breath was shallow, thighs trembling-not from exertion, but from something she couldn't name. Not fear. *Not yet.* But it clung to her skin like heat.
As the lights dimmed, she turned toward the exit.
❦
"Don't move."
The voice was velvet and fire-low, masculine, and close.
She froze. Every cell in her body stiffened. She knew that voice. Not from the stage. Not from whispers in the locker room. But from her nightmares.
"You danced like you were searching for something," he said behind her. "Or someone."
She swallowed. "Do all men speak in riddles or just the wealthy creeps who buy silence?"
He chuckled-a dark, broken sound. "Silence doesn't tempt me."
"What does?" she asked, trying not to tremble.
His fingers brushed her waist from behind, barely a touch-but it traveled like lightning across her spine.
*Don't react. Don't flinch.* But her breath betrayed her.
"You do," he said simply.
She turned, eyes searching his. The mask did nothing to hide the sharp cut of his jaw, the darkness in his irises.
"You don't even know me," she whispered.
"I don't need to," he replied, stepping close enough that she could smell danger clinging to his skin like cologne. "I can smell the lie in your perfume."
*He knows.*
She shoved his hand off. "I'm not here for men like you."
"Then why are you here at all?"
She hesitated. Truth tangled in her throat like a secret too ugly to swallow.
"To disappear," she said, lying.
He stared, then stepped back, but not before sliding something into her palm-a black card with silver ink.
Adrian Valerio.
Below his name: *You danced like you belonged to someone. Next time, belong to me.*
Her fingers clenched the card.
*Adrian.*
So that was his name.
And somehow, she already hated how it felt in her mouth.
But it wouldn't be the last time she said it.
Not even close.
Chapter 1 The First Dance
13/06/2025
Chapter 2 The Black Card
13/06/2025
Chapter 3 Velvet Trap
13/06/2025
Chapter 4 The Contract of Shadows
13/06/2025
Chapter 5 Velvet Cages
13/06/2025
Chapter 6 The Rules We Break
13/06/2025
Chapter 7 Something in the Air
13/06/2025
Chapter 8 Kiss Me Like a Lie
13/06/2025
Chapter 9 The Scent of Control
13/06/2025
Chapter 10 Damage in Designer Shoes
13/06/2025
Chapter 11 Silk Sheets and Sharp Tongues
13/06/2025
Chapter 12 The Morning After the Storm
13/06/2025
Chapter 13 Tea, Daggers, and Mrs. Cross
14/06/2025
Chapter 14 Close Quarters and Closer Secrets
14/06/2025
Chapter 15 Echoes in the Quiet
14/06/2025
Chapter 16 Bruises Beneath Silk
14/06/2025
Chapter 17 Every Touch a Confession
14/06/2025
Chapter 18 The Morning After Lies
14/06/2025
Chapter 19 Paper Trails and Ghosts
14/06/2025
Chapter 20 Old Wounds, Fresh Blood
14/06/2025