If you ever want to experience true, unadulterated madness, try going to an ultra-exclusive high-society spa where the water is infused with volcanic minerals, the robes cost more than a Honda Civic, and every woman inside looks like she’s undergoing a silent reboot.
Welcome to The Aetherium Sanctuary on the Upper East Side.
Julian’s security team traced the blackmailer’s encrypted signal back to this exact location.
And apparently, someone on the spa’s high-profile guest list was using the private, unmonitored Wi-Fi network to send those cute little threat texts to my CEO.
So, naturally, the only rational solution was for me to march straight into the lion’s den, In full Lady Sterling drag.
“If a single drop of eight-hundred-dollar charcoal mud gets on this platinum lace-front, Julian,” I hissed under my breath, adjusting my dark Chanel sunglasses as we stepped off the private elevator into the marble lobby, “I am billing you for a full emotional restoration package.” Beside me, Julian was casually scrolling through his encrypted tablet.
He was wearing a dark charcoal turtleneck under his suit jacket, looking like an exceptionally handsome, dangerously lethal international spy.
“The server room is behind the VIP thermal suites,” Julian murmured, his deep voice carrying that smooth, terrifying authority.
“My tech team is tapping the local network right now.
All you have to do is sit in the main lounge, act like yourself, and draw out whoever is monitoring the floor.” “Act like myself?” I rasped out in my thickest, most insufferable Monaco accent.
“Darling, I am an international icon.
I do not ‘act.’ I perform.” Julian slowly turned his head.
The icy, stone-faced CEO mask twitched, replaced by that low, dangerous flicker of pure amusement.
He stepped in close, his long fingers reaching up to adjust the pearl choker at my neck, his knuckles brushing against my bare skin just long enough to send a shiver straight down my spine.
“Just don’t burn the building down, Miss Fox,” he whispered, his head dipping close enough that his warm breath brushed my ear.
“I’d hate to lose my best asset.” Best asset?!
My brain screamed as he let go and vanished down the hallway toward the server rooms.
Right.
Cool.
Keep telling yourself I’m just a best asset while you touch my skin like that, you cold-hearted, ridiculously broad-shouldered sociopath!
I smoothed down my custom silk robe, adjusted my pearl choker, and marched into the main thermal lounge.
The room was filled with soft steam, ambient whale noises, and four high-society women lying on heated loungers with gold-flake eye masks on.
And right in the center sat Victoria Vance.
Jackpot.
“Mon dieu!” I bellowed in a raspy, booming voice that shattered the peaceful whale music into a million pieces.
“Is this a spa or a damp basement?!
Why is the humidity at seventy percent?!
My pearls are sweating!” Every woman in the room sat up so fast they almost snapped their necks.
Victoria Vance yanked her gold eye mask off, her eyes widening in pure horror as she took in my silver hair, dark glasses, and silk robe.
“You?!” Victoria gasped, scrambling backward on her lounger.
“What are you doing in the VIP thermal suite?!” “I am gracing you with my presence, Victoria,” I declared, gliding over and collapsing onto the plush velvet lounger right across from her.
I snapped my fingers at a terrified spa attendant.
“You!
Bring me an iced espresso, a glass of sparkling water, and whatever mask you have that fixes bitter personality traits.
Put it on this woman’s tab.” “I am not paying for your—!” Victoria sputtered, her face turning bright red beneath her mud mask.
“Quiet, dear,” I interrupted smoothly, waving a lace-gloved hand in her face.
“The adults are relaxing.
Tell me, how is Devon?
Has he found a job yet, or is he still living off your allowance and crying over Chloe?” Across the room, two snobbish heiresses covered their mouths to hide their gasps.
Before Victoria could explode, a tall, slick-looking man in a tailored linen suit stepped out from behind the VIP glass doors, holding a sleek iPad.
It was Harrison—Victoria’s personal asset manager and Richard Montgomery’s former chief accountant.
The guy who managed all her off-shore tax filings.
His eyes instantly locked onto me and he didn’t look angry instead he looked nervous.
His fingers flew across his iPad screen, tapping furiously.
Gotcha, you sneaky little rat.
I leaned back on my lounger, tilted my dark sunglasses down to the tip of my nose, and offered him a radiant, terrifying smile.
“Lovely iPad, darling.
Are you checking the stock market, or are you just texting photos of young girls to billionaire CEOs?” Harrison froze.
The color completely drained from his face.
He didn’t even try to play it cool.
He turned on his heel and literally sprinted toward the rear exit doors.
“Security!” Victoria shrieked, completely lost.
I didn’t even have to move.
The heavy glass rear exit doors suddenly swung open, and Julian Sterling stepped into the frame like an absolute brick wall.
Harrison ran full-speed straight into Julian’s huge chest, bouncing off him like a rubber ball and landing flat on his back on the wet marble floor.
His iPad went flying, sliding across the wet tiles right to the edge of my lounger.
Julian didn’t even flinch.
He casually stepped over the groaning accountant, picked up the iPad, and glanced down at the screen.
“Encrypted messaging app,” Julian said softly, his voice dropping into that terrifying, icy range that made the room temperature plunge below zero.
He looked up, his dark eyes fixing onto Harrison with lethal focus.
“And three draft emails addressed to the tabloid press containing Miss Fox’s background file.” Victoria gasped, scrambling off her lounger.
“Harrison?!
What is the meaning of this?!” “He was working for Montgomery, Victoria,” Julian replied smoothly, stepping closer to Harrison, who was scrambling backward on his hands and knees.
“Using your private access to monitor my family.
Effective, but sloppy.” “Julian, darling,” I rasped out, picking up my iced espresso and taking a dainty sip, “please tell me we are having this man arrested.
He ruined my peaceful steam session.” Julian turned to look at me.
The ruthless, terrifying predator look in his eyes softened just a fraction, a slow, breathtaking smirk spreading across his sharp jawline.
“He’s going away for a very long time, Lady Sterling,” Julian murmured, signaling his security guards, who immediately hauled the pale accountant off the floor.
Five minutes later, the spa lounge was cleared out, security had wrapped up the mess, and Victoria Vance had fled the building in tears.
I leaned back on my velvet lounger, taking off my dark sunglasses and tossing them onto the marble side table.
“Well.
That was satisfying.
We caught our bitch.” Julian walked over, standing right beside my lounger.
The towering CEO looked completely out of place in a serene, white-marbled spa, but he didn’t seem to care.
He reached down, his long fingers wrapping around my wrist, pulling me up until I was standing directly in front of his massive frame.
“You did remarkably well, Roxie,” he whispered, his deep voice vibrating through my chest.
“I told you,” I stammered, my heart instantly betraying me by doing a chaotic tap-dance against my ribs.
“I’m a natural.” Julian stepped closer, his chest practically touching mine, his dark eyes locking onto my lips.
“You’re a menace to high society, Miss Fox,” he murmured, his thumb resting against the rapid beat of my pulse.
“And you just won me a very important war.” Before I could process the sudden, electric heat suffocating the air between us, a loud HISSSSSS echoed through the room…
A thick cloud of white steam erupted from the floor vents as the automated system reset, completely engulfing us in a warm, misty haze.
I blinked through the thick steam, looking down at my drenched silk robe and completely ruined platinum wig.
“Julian?” I squeaked.
“Yes, Roxie?” “I think the steam room just exploded.” Julian’s low, dark laugh echoed through the mist, his hand slipping down to wrap securely around my waist in the dark.
“Consider it a victory shower, Lady Sterling.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Bel_Rose Roxie asking for a mask that “fixes bitter personality traits” to put on Victoria Vance’s tab?!
She is completely unstoppable!
(^..^) With Harrison caught red-handed and the blackmailer officially behind bars, Julian and Roxie are left completely alone in an exploding cloud of steam…
What happens when the mask literally comes off in Chapter 12?