I need to get ready for tonight. Lucius is waiting. I won't lie—he's stunning, commanding. It's impossible not to feel attracted to him, I know that. But the real magic of today is that, for the first time in forever, I actually felt good. Gardening with Manuel was fun, and in a few hours I'll be giving dance lessons to the eldest Longfield brother… the same one who called me attractive.
Of course Ursula couldn't resist spreading her poison. She sent me a long message that basically said, be careful what you do with Mr. Lucius or you'll burn in hell. I played dumb and replied, I thought Mr. Longfield approved it. Who am I to question him? She didn't bother me after that. So I took a bath, ate something light, and at the exact time, I headed to the grand hall…
He hasn't arrived yet, but my mouth is hanging open. This place is magnificent—a massive room filled with luxurious chandeliers, expensive furniture, a colossal antique mirror, and a huge dance floor. I greeted two cleaning ladies who looked shy around me, almost scared, and they left right away.
If you want to know what I wore, bestie, just wait. I'll tell you, I promise.
And right as I was checking myself in the mirror… he walked in.
Impeccable suit, as always. His cologne… exquisite.
—Good evening, Carmilla —he said from across the room, then immediately ordered—. Now listen carefully. The President's daughter and I will dance a Johann Strauss waltz, followed straight into a contemporary orchestrated ballad—she chose it. I brought the music so we can start right away. I have two hours before I need to meet with my father.
—Alright —I answered—. Let's see what we're working with. We'll practice the waltz without music first, counting the steps.
He took me in his arms with surprising elegance. I complimented him on it, but I couldn't get a smile out of him. I'm wearing heels. Lucius is so tall I don't want him hunching over, but damn, I look good in them… still, he refuses to really look at me.
He just followed my instructions in silence, correcting himself like an excellent student every time I pointed out a mistake. We spent almost half an hour with our hands joined until I realized Killian had lied—Lucius is actually a pretty decent dancer. But the second I thought that, he tripped into me, making me stumble. When he tried to steady me, a button on my pink blouse popped off.
He didn't apologize. He just glanced at his watch, annoyed by the delay.
I told him:
—Now with music. We'll run it twice.
He turned on the speakers through his phone and the waltz began. The first time had almost no mistakes. The second time he danced it with a natural flow that clearly pleased him… even if he didn't say it.
After the waltz, the audio switched to the orchestrated ballad. Music does something strange to me. I know it happens to other people too, but it transports me, connects me to something almost sacred. With the right song, I slip into a trance. All it takes is the perfect trigger—like the wine with Killian yesterday, and like right now, with our bodies pressed close and me catching him staring at my cleavage… everything sped up. He moves well. There's no doubt we're in sync.
I realize the missing button is showing way too much. Small breasts and button-up shirts have never been great at hiding things, and from his height I know for a fact he's looking—my nipples are right there for him. While I'm lost in the melody, his body, his scent, and that exploring gaze… I ask myself: what the hell is happening to me? Is this my real nature? The one buried by childhood trauma? The question is valid: yesterday I refused to take my blouse off for Killian, and just hours later I'm letting Lucius stare at my breasts without any resistance, all under the excuse that we're just dancing…
The music ended and I snapped out of the trance. I was smiling, genuinely happy.
—We did it. You're ready for tomorrow.
He clenched his jaw, looked at me with a stern gaze, and said:
—It's time for me to go, but I think you're mistaken and need to remember your place in this mansion. First, I decide if I'm ready or not. Second, don't think I didn't notice what you were trying to do…
Then he ordered:
—Turn around, little girl.
I swear, bestie, I had no idea what he meant. I thought maybe there was a loose thread on my blouse or a bug on my skirt. But the moment I obeyed, he stepped behind me, leaned into my ear, and whispered:
—I have to punish you for trying to make me lose my mind over you. You know it's forbidden.
With his hand on my waist, he pressed his fingers in one firm motion, making me arch my back and push my hips out. He held me there for a second—ass up, like I was waiting for a spanking that never came.
He said:
—Next time I will punish you. Consider yourself warned.
He started to leave while I stood there completely lost. It was obvious I'd enjoyed letting him see my breasts through the open blouse, perfect excuse or not. That thought had settled deep inside me—the idea that I deserved to be punished for it. I stayed frozen, convinced he was genuinely angry, that I had done something wrong. Submissive and dazed, I kept the position he left me in and watched him walk away. But right before he reached the door, he shook his head, turned back around with that same serious expression, and fixed those icy blue eyes on me.
—You deserve it now —he said.
He gave me a firm, open-handed smack on my ass, then leaned in close from behind, like he wanted to hear my reaction.
And you know what my reaction was? You're not going to believe it, because I still can't believe it either. It wasn't from pain—it didn't really hurt. But that strong, masculine, virile push made my legs shake. On pure instinct, something primitive and unstoppable, my mouth fell open and a soft, high-pitched moan slipped out. Then, breathing hard, I moaned again…
Satisfied, he whispered in my ear:
—Next time you'll behave.
He added:
—Tomorrow, after breakfast, I want you back here. We're doing one last practice before the ball.
He stayed there, waiting for my answer… Still breathing heavily, I managed a shy little:
—Okay.
And he left.
I turned around, looked at myself in the grand hall mirror, and for the first time in my life, I thought I looked beautiful. What the hell just happened to me?
I went back to my room in a daze. I felt weird, guilty, dirty… and completely his. I didn't even know what to think about myself. What kind of strange world have I fallen into? In what universe did what Lucius just did to me feel better than the whole romantic night I spent with Killian? I didn't see myself as cheap or used. Quite the opposite—I felt full. I confirmed it again in the mirror in my room. What did that man do to me?
The answer came with a smile. I told my reflection:
—You got dominated, you played the game, and he won. You lost, Carmilla. And like any female animal with an alpha… you showed him you were willing.
My phone buzzed. A message from Killian.
He sent a photo of himself next to the helicopter with the text:
Change of plans. I won't be back until after the ball. Warning: Ursula's going to be extra vicious tomorrow. These last-minute preparations drive her crazy. Stay as far away from her as possible. Best thing is to stick close to Lucius. I already talked to him, told him I'm interested in you. He agreed to protect you. Sleep well. Remember, tomorrow: avoid Ursula and stay near my brother.
I dropped back onto the bed.
Another message came in… this time from Lucius. Short and shameless:
7 a.m. Wear a white blouse this time.
And believe it or not, here I am, checking which of the three white blouses in my size has… the most fragile buttons.
Lucius, Lucius, Lucius Longfield… What kind of witchcraft did you use on me?