Trisha's heart was still racing when she pushed through the service corridor and hurried back toward the bar where she was supposed to be stationed.
Her hands were trembling.
Her breathing was uneven.
The sounds of the party still echoed in her head—music pounding like a heartbeat, laughter mixed with something darker, the sight of blood glistening under crimson lights.
Fangs.
Teeth sinking into flesh.
Humans smiling while they were bitten.
She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself.
This can't be real.
But she had seen it.
So much blood.
Everywhere she looked there had been vampires.
Feeding.
Dancing.
Laughing.
And the worst part—
The humans had let them.
They were clearly tortured or forced into this.
Or trapped.
Her stomach twisted.
She reached the bar counter and grabbed the edge of it, grounding herself.
But before she could calm down, a sharp voice snapped through the quiet.
"Miss Hart."
Trisha looked up.
Her manager stood a few feet away.
His arms were crossed, his face tight with irritation.
"Where were you?"
Her pulse jumped again.
"I—"
"You were not at your post," he interrupted sharply. "I've been looking for you for the past twenty minutes."
His voice lowered, but the anger in it was unmistakable.
"This hotel pays you to work, not wander around. You should be here , at your post."
Trisha forced herself to stay calm.
"I'm sorry, sir. I just—"
"You just what?"
He stepped closer, clearly losing patience.
"You think because this is a luxury hotel, you got the job because of the CEO, the rules don't apply to you? We run on discipline here, Miss Hart. If every staff member decided to disappear whenever they felt like it, this place would fall apart."
Her chest tightened.
"I went to the restroom," she said quietly.
The lie tasted bitter.
The manager scoffed.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I'm sorry, sir."
"That's not good enough."
His voice rose slightly.
"You've been careless lately. Distracted. And tonight of all nights you choose to vanish during an important private event?"
Trisha clenched her hands together behind the counter.
She was already shaken.
Already overwhelmed.
The last thing she needed was this.
"I said I'm sorry," she repeated softly.
But the manager didn't seem satisfied.
"Well, sorry doesn't fix—"
A calm voice cut through the tension.
"What seems to be the problem?"
Both of them turned.
Rowan stood a few steps away.
He had appeared so quietly neither of them had noticed him approach.
He was dressed in grey tonight—an impeccably tailored suit, the crisp white collar of his shirt open slightly at the throat. The dim golden lights of the bar reflected faintly in his dark eyes.
There was something composed about him.
Controlled.
But beneath it was a presence that filled the room.
The manager straightened instantly.
"Mr. D'Arcy ."
Rowan's gaze moved between them.
"I asked a question."
The manager cleared his throat.
"Miss Hart was not at her post," he said quickly. "She's been neglecting her responsibilities tonight."
Rowan's eyes shifted to Trisha.
She felt the weight of his gaze immediately.
Sharp.
Searching.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Rowan looked back at the manager.
"Be grateful she works here."
His voice was calm.
Almost conversational.
But the words that followed carried a quiet edge.
"It keeps me civilized."
The room fell silent.
The manager's expression changed immediately.
He lowered his eyes.
"Yes… of course, sir."
Trisha noticed the shift instantly.
Only seconds ago the man had been furious.
Now he looked almost nervous.
Rowan stepped closer to the counter.
"Never speak to her like that again."
The manager nodded quickly.
"Yes, Mr. D'Arcy ."
"At the very least," Rowan continued calmly, "you should listen before accusing."
"I understand."
Rowan turned slightly toward Trisha.
"She's coming with me."
The manager blinked.
"But sir—"
Rowan's gaze lifted again.
"Do you have a problem with that?"
The question was quiet.
But something in it made the air feel colder.
The manager shook his head immediately.
"No, sir."
"Good."
Rowan looked back at Trisha.
"Come with me."
His tone wasn't harsh.
It wasn't even demanding.
But there was an expectation in it.
Trisha hesitated only a second before stepping out from behind the bar.
She didn't argue.
Didn't protest.
She simply followed him.
******
Rowan's office was quiet compared to the chaos upstairs.
The door closed softly behind them.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Trisha stood near the desk, her arms folded tightly across her chest.
She was trying to calm herself.
But the images from the party kept flooding back.
Blood.
Fangs.
Humans offering their necks.
And Rowan standing above it all.
Finally he spoke.
"You don't know anything."
His voice was low.
Controlled.
Something in her snapped.
"I know enough."
Rowan's eyes lifted to hers.
"No."
"You think I don't understand what I saw?"
Her voice rose before she could stop herself.
"I saw your kind feeding on people!"
Her breathing quickened.
"You organized that. You invited those vampires. You brought humans there so they could be used like livestock."
Rowan didn't interrupt.
Didn't move.
He simply watched her.
"You run these luxurious hotels," she continued angrily, "and behind closed doors you're killing innocent people for blood."
Her voice shook.
"That was your harem up there."
Rowan's eyes darkened slightly.
"And what exactly do you think happens in that 'harem'?"
Trisha's jaw tightened.
"I think you surround yourself and other vampires with women and men who are desperate enough to offer themselves to monsters."
The word hung in the air.
Monster.
"This is the harem that Seraphine mentioned that day. You wanted me to be a part of that.
I would never , ever let that happen.
I would never be a part of that harem."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Rowan stepped forward.
Trisha stiffened instinctively.
But instead of grabbing her or shouting, Rowan simply raised a finger and pressed it gently against her lips.
The gesture was quiet.
Unexpected.
"Enough."
His voice was calm.
But something in it carried authority.
Trisha froze.
"No one," he said softly, "will ever touch you."
Her breath caught.
"No one will bite you."
His gaze held hers.
"No vampire will even dream of coming near you."
"You were never meant to be a part of that."
"I would never let anyone, human or vampire or anyone hurt you."
The words were not dramatic.
They were certain.
"You're safe."
Trisha slowly pulled away from his hand.
"You expect me to believe that?"
Rowan studied her for a moment.
Then something in his expression shifted.
"You're looking at me like I'm a monster."
She didn't answer.
That silence was answer enough.
Rowan exhaled slowly.
And calmly said.
"You misunderstood everything you saw tonight."
"Oh really?"
"Yes."
He turned toward the door.
"Come with me."
Trisha frowned.
"Where?"
"Back to the party."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"I'm not going back there."
"You will," Rowan said calmly.
He opened the door.
"Because you're going to see it properly this time."
After a moment, she followed.
*****
They didn't return to the ballroom floor.
Instead Rowan led her to a private staircase that curved upward above the main hall.
When they reached the top level, he opened a small hidden door.
The space behind it overlooked the entire ballroom below.
But the shadows here were thick.
No one downstairs could see them.
Trisha stepped forward slowly.
From this height the party looked different.
Elegant.
Controlled.
The music pulsed softly through the air.
Guests danced.
Waiters carried drinks.
And yes—
Vampires fed.
But now that she watched more carefully, she noticed something she hadn't seen before.
The humans weren't struggling.
They were smiling, dancing and even seducing the vampires.
Leaning closer.
Encouraging it.
Rowan stood beside her.
"You're very innocent."
She glanced at him.
"Too innocent for this world," he added quietly.
Her eyes returned to the scene below.
"Those people…"
"They're here willingly."
She shook her head.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Yes."
Rowan folded his arms.
"No one here is killed."
Her gaze flickered toward him.
"All participants sign contracts."
"What?"
"Medical supervision is mandatory."
He gestured toward the far corner where a small group of staff in white coats stood discreetly.
"Blood intake is monitored."
Trisha frowned.
"And they just… allow this?"
"They're paid very well."
Her mind struggled to process it.
"Why would anyone agree to something like that?"
Rowan's voice remained calm.
"Because some humans enjoy it. They want it."
She stared at him.
"They want the experience," he continued. "Power. Pleasure. Danger."
Below them a woman laughed breathlessly as a vampire kissed her neck.
"Some humans," Rowan said quietly, "want to have sex with vampires."
Trisha felt heat rise in her face.
"And some vampires enjoy that as well."
He glanced at her.
"But nothing here is forced. No one is trapped."
Trisha watched the scene below again.
It still felt wrong.
But now she could see it clearly.
The humans weren't victims.
They were participants.
Everything was deliberate.
Consented.
Her voice was softer when she spoke again.
"And those women around you earlier?"
Rowan didn't answer immediately.
"They seemed very… eager."
His gaze remained on the crowd below.
"I don't mix business with pleasure."
Trisha turned toward him.
"So you never feed like that?"
"No."
She hesitated.
Then asked quietly,
"But you fed from me."
For the first time that night, Rowan looked directly at her.
The silence between them stretched.
"I don't feed from the parties," he said calmly.
"But you fed from me. You bit me."
He stepped closer.
Very slowly.
The distance between them disappeared.
His voice dropped lower.
"I didn't feed."
Trisha's pulse quickened.
"What do you mean?"
Rowan's eyes held hers.
"I marked."
"I claimed you."
Her breath caught.
"You were mine the moment I tasted you.
The words settled heavily in the air between them.
Trisha stared at him.
Her heart was pounding again.
But for a completely different reason now.
After a long silence, she whispered,
"I never agreed to that."
Rowan's expression didn't change.
"You didn't have to."