Elara

The elevator in my Chinatown apartment building smelled like sesame oil and industrial cleaner, a stark difference from the lilies and expensive perfume of the Pierre hotel.

I leaned my head against the scratched metal wall, watching the numbers crawl toward the twelfth floor.

I looked like a disaster.

My midnight-blue gown was wadded up in a plastic trash bag I'd begged off a kitchen worker, and I was currently wearing a pair of oversized, "I Heart Boston" grey sweatpants and a stained hoodie I'd bought from a tourist shop for twenty dollars.

When the door to 12B groaned open, the smell of burnt Palo Santo and cheap tequila hit me.

"Elara?! Did you get mugged? Or did Caspian finally try to sacrifice you to the gods of old money?"

Sofia was sprawled on our velvet thrift-store sofa, her feet propped up on a coffee table cluttered with half-empty makeup palettes and empty takeout containers.

She was still in her "work" uniform, a red bandage dress that hugged every curve of her Afro-Latina frame. Her dark curls were pinned up in a messy pile, and she was currently nursing a glass of wine while scrolling through her phone.

She froze mid-sip, her eyes widening as she took in my frizzy hair and the smudge of dirt I'd missed on my jawline.

"I didn't get mugged..." I sighed, tossing the bag with my ruined dress onto the floor. "I went digging for gold. Literally."

Sofia stood up, her heels clicking on the hardwood as she rushed over. She'd been my best friend for four years, the only person who knew exactly how much interest my mother's "business partners" were charging this month.

We'd met at a casting call for a high-end agency, two girls trying to survive a city that wanted to eat us alive. We'd been each other's security ever since.

"The dress, Elara! That was the vintage Chanel! Tell me you didn't ruin the Chanel for a Beaumont."

My face scrunched in disgust. "The Beaumont is a pig." I said, collapsing into the armchair. "I ditched him. I found something better. Arthur Sterling."

Her jaw actually dropped.

She didn't sit back down, she hovered. "Arthur Sterling? The guy who looks like he's made of ice and surgical steel? Elara, that man is a ghost.

"I've been on three jobs for his board members, and I've never even seen him smile. How did you get close enough to him to get... whatever this is on your face?"

"His son." I said, closing my eyes and seeing Julian's wide, curious face. "He ran off into the garden. I followed him. We found a worm."

"A worm." Sofia stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "You're telling me you're trying to land the biggest whale in the biomedical industry by playing in the dirt?"

"He seems to have a sprinkle of spectrum, Sof. I could see it". I smirked, like I just figured out what exactly, Arthur needed.

"The noise, the lights, the way people were crowding him... the kid is just like him". A small emotion tugged at my heart.

I shrugged. "Arthur doesn't need a trophy on his arm. He needs someone who can gently be with him."

Sofia's expression softened from shock to a grim, calculating interest. She sat on the edge of the sofa, leaning toward me. "And the debt? Did the sharks call again today?"

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the Boston night air. "Yeah. They sent a picture of my mother at the grocery store. No message. Just the photo."

Sofia cursed under her breath in Spanish, her hand reaching out to squeeze my knee. "Two million, Elara. We're good at what we do, but we're not 'that' good. Unless you get a contract."

"That's the plan." I said, my voice hardening. "I'm not going to be an escort for him. I'm going to be a necessity."

My plan was already running through my head. "He's a widower, his board is breathing down his neck for stability, and he's losing nannies faster than he can hire them."

Sofia sends me a look, like she knew what I was hinting at.

"If I can convince him that I'm the only person who can keep his son happy and his reputation intact, he'll pay whatever I ask." I left out the other part where I thought he looked drop dead sexy to pass by.

"But he saw you like this." Sofia pointed at my sweatpants. "He likes everything proper. To him, you're just a messy escort who was with a Beaumont."

"Which is why the next time he sees me, I'm going to be his dream come true." I said with determination.

The next forty-eight hours were a blur of caffeine and deep-web digging. While Sofia handled her regular clients, keeping our rent paid, I spent every second on my laptop.

I didn't just need to know Arthur's schedule, I needed to know his life.

I learned that he took the same route through the Public Garden every Sunday morning at 8:30 AM. He didn't go to the parts of the park where the tourists flocked to the Swan Boats.

He went to the quietest corner, near the statues, where the trees were thickest.

I learned that Sterling Bioworks was facing a 'character' crisis. The Russian merger with L'vov Medical was stalling because the L'vov family were staunch traditionalists.

They didn't trust a man who lived like a hermit. They wanted to see a family man.

I also found the most important piece of the puzzle. It was a blog post from a former nanny. She'd complained that Arthur was "impossible" because he demanded a strict sensory environment. No perfumes, no loud jewelry, no bright, primary colors. He needed a house that ran like a Swiss watch.

I scoffed into the empty room as the sun began to rise on Sunday morning. "He's impossible..."

I stood in front of the full-length mirror in our tiny bathroom. Sofia was still asleep, snoring lightly from her late Saturday night gig.

I dressed with purpose, wearing a tailored, cream-colored wool coat over a simple charcoal turtleneck and trousers. No perfume. My curls were gelled back into a low, neat bun. My makeup was "no-makeup", just enough to make my skin look clean.

I looked soft, capable, and infinitely calm.

"Looking good, Elara..." Sofia's sleepy voice came from the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, rubbing her eyes. "You look like a woman who's never seen a loan shark in her life."

She chuckled.

I snorted a laugh. "That's the goal." I said, checking my bag.

Inside was a small, vintage pair of reading glasses and a book on New England soil life. "I don't want him to want me. I want him to need me."

"Be careful, though..." Sofia warned, her voice losing its playful edge.

"Men like Arthur Sterling... they don't just own companies. They own people. If you get into a contract with him, make sure you have an exit."

"The two million is my exit." I sing song, kissing her cheek. "Wish me luck."

The Boston Public Garden was draped in a thin layer of morning mist. The air was crisp, smelling of damp earth and the coming winter. I found a bench near the statue and waited.

I didn't look at my phone, didn't fidget. I knew Arthur would notice movement.

At 8:32 AM, I saw them.

Arthur was walking with long strides, the same attractive walk that seemed to immerse the few people in the garden. He was wearing a dark navy overcoat, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He looked exhausted.

Striking eyes were scanning the perimeter as if he were looking for threats, but I knew he was just looking for a way to manage the space.

Julian was lagging behind, his little boots dragging in the fallen leaves. He looked miserable in a stiff, itchy-looking wool coat.

I waited until they were twenty feet away. I didn't look at Arthur. I didn't even acknowledge he existed.

Instead, I leaned forward, looking at the base of a nearby oak tree. I pulled the reading glasses from my bag and peered at the bark.

"You know-" I started, my voice projected just loud enough to carry in the quiet morning air. "If you look closely at the north side of the trunk, you can see where the moss is starting to prepare for the frost. It's like a tiny green blanket."

Julian stopped dead. He looked at me, then at the tree.

Arthur stopped, too. His entire body went still, his eyes snapping to me. I could feel the heat of his gaze, the recognition clicking in his brain. He remembered the "messy" escort.

He remembered the worm.

"You." he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

My heart raced, anxiety trying to claw its way up, but my years of experience wouldn't let it. Finally, I looked up, letting a slow, surprised smile spread across my face.

Action.

Elara

I acted like I was exactly where I belonged.

"Mr. Sterling?" I said, my voice calm and steady. "-And Julian. Fancy meeting you somewhere so... quiet."

Julian didn't wait for his father's permission. He trotted over to me, dark curls brushing over his wide blue eyes that were locked on my reading glasses.

"The blanket?" he asked softly

I smiled. "Right here." Handing him the glasses. "Take a look. It's a whole city down there."

Arthur stepped forward, his presence looming over us like a shadow. He looked down at me, his blue eyes searching my outfit, a stark difference from the escort look I had on at the gala.

"What are you doing here, Miss Vance?" he asked. He didn't sound friendly.

He remembered my name...

"Taking the air." I said, standing up gracefully.

I didn't offer my hand this time. I knew better. "The gala was a bit... loud for my taste. I prefer the company of trees... And your son."

That was a truthful statement.

Arthur looked at Julian, who was currently mesmerized by the moss, calmly observing it in awe.

"I don't believe in coincidences." Arthur said, his eyes narrowing as he took a step into my personal space. He was so tall I had to tilt my head back, my pulse spiked but I didn't flinch.

"Neither do I." I replied, my voice a soft challenge. "I believe in results. And right now, Julian is smiling. When was the last time that happened in public?"

The hit landed. I saw the slight clench his jaw. He was a man of logic, and the logic was undeniable, his son liked me.

The silence between us was heavy, with only the distant sound of a jogger's footsteps on the gravel path. Arthur was towering over me, his presence a physical weight.

He didn't just look down at me, he looked through me, searching for a crack. "You're a professional, I saw you with Caspian Beaumont. You're an escort." He said bluntly.

A sly smile cracked on my lips, though my pulse was screaming. "I'm a woman who knows how to play a role, Mr. Sterling." I said, stepping closer.

My nostrils were invaded by the crisp scent of his laundry detergent and the underneath musk of his cologne. Not too harsh, not too soft either. It was a scent that made my lower belly clench with desire.

"But more importantly." I continued, my voice low and steady, "I'm someone who sees what others miss. Like the fact that you look like you haven't slept in forty-eight hours because you're trying to calculate how to survive a merger."

Arthur's jaw tightened. "You know too much about things that don't concern you."

"I make it my business to be concerned." I spoke softly.

"You've tried the best nannies money can buy. You've tried the high-end agencies. They all give you 'perfection' by the book, but they don't understand that your world, and Julian's."

My speech took me by surprise, I had such a way with words...

I took a half-step back, giving him his space and waited, letting everything I just said, settle.

His brows furrowed in thought before his eyes snapped to mine. "I'm not looking for another employee, Miss Vance."

Arthur didn't just reject the idea, he dismantled it. He looked at Julian, who was still crouched by the moss, then back at me with a look of profound distrust.

"Employees are liabilities. They talk. They break. And I certainly don't hire 'solutions' from the arms of men like Caspian Beaumont."

He reached down and gripped Julian's hand. Not roughly, but with a suddenness that shattered the boy's concentration.

Julian shrieked, his voice hitting a high frequency. He tried to pull back toward the tree, his small face twisting in frantic distress. "I wasn't done! miss Elara said-"

"Julian, enough. We're leaving." Arthur commanded.

His face was pale, his jaw clenching as he tried to manage the boy's escalating screams. The 'proper' tycoon was resurfacing, and he looked humiliated by the scene.

"No! No! No!" Julian began to kick at the air, a full-blown meltdown in the middle of the quiet park.

I took a step forward, my hand instinctively reaching out. "Arthur, he just needs a second to-"

"Do not." Arthur snapped, his eyes flashing with a warning so sharp it felt like a physical blow. "Do not use his name. And stay away from my son."

He hauled a sobbing, thrashing Julian into his arms.

The boy was wailing now, reaching his small hands back toward me, but Arthur didn't look back. He marched toward his waiting black SUV with the purpose of ending the humiliation.

I stood there in silence, feeling the sting of the morning mist and defeat.

The next four days were brutal...

My 'expert' plan had blown up in my face. I had miscalculated Arthur Sterling's pride. He didn't just want order, he wanted total, isolated control. By showing him that I saw his weakness, I hadn't made myself a solution, I'd made myself a threat.

"He's not biting, Sof..." I groaned, dropping my head onto the kitchen table.

Sofia walked by, tossing a stack of mail in front of me. On top was a plain white envelope. No return address. I knew what it was before opening with trembling fingers.

It was a photo of my mother sitting at a bus stop, a red circle drawn around her head in permanent marker.

"The loan sharks are getting bored, Elara."

She leaned against the counter, her curls wild from sleep. "-And bored men start breaking things. You need a win tonight, at least to send them some money to stall..."

My mind was a mess. "I can't get to him. He blocked my number from the agency list. I'm also blacklisted from the Sterling tower."

"Then stop trying to be a nanny and start being the one thing you know how to be." Sofia said, her eyes glinting.

"There's a soft opening tonight. The Gilded Cage. It's a new high-end club in the Seaport. The owner is a friend of a friend. The guest list is... heavy. All the big fish."

"I don't have the energy to hunt tonight, Sof."

Truthfully, I was tired of the same old routine of dressing sexy for the male gaze, only to stroke their ego or their small cocks, just to earn whatever they're willing to give.

"You don't have a choice." she countered, sliding a shimmering, skin-tight silver dress across the table. "Get up. We're going to let loose, get a drink, and find you a client with a large pocket."

The Gilded Cage was exactly what the name implied.

It was a masterpiece of gold-leafed bars, velvet booths, where a single bottle of champagne cost more than my monthly rent.

I was on my third drink, leaning against the bar while Sofia worked a group of tech investors across the room. I felt numb, every man who looked at me felt like a shadow compared to the cold, sharp image of Arthur Sterling in my head.

"Hey, El." Sofia whispered, appearing at my elbow, her face flushed with excitement. "Look at the VIP lounge. The owner's table."

I followed her gaze to the elevated platform overlooking the dance floor. It was barricaded by thick gold ropes and guarded by two massive security guards.

My heart stopped, breath seizing.

There, in the center of a semi-circle of boisterous, laughing businessmen, sat Arthur Sterling.

He was dressed in a dark suit, his tie removed and his top button undone, peeking what seemed to be a chest tattoo. My brows raised in surprise, interest piquing.

As usual, he was as rigid as ever. He wasn't drinking nor talking. He sat with his hands folded across his chest, eyes fixed on the condensation of a glass of water in front of him.

"What is he doing here?" I breathed.

Sofia smirked. "The owner, Leo Marcovicci seems to be Arthur's only friend." She shrugged. "He probably came here to celebrate with his friend for opening a new club."

Bullshit.

It was like I was being pulled to him.

"Elara, don't." Sofia warned as I started to move. "He told you to stay away."

"Wrong. he told the 'nanny' to stay away." I said, smoothing down the silver fabric of my dress, which left very little to the imagination.

And with a new spark of determination, I marched forward.

Elara

I walked toward the VIP stairs, my heels clicking with steady rhythm. I didn't look at the guards. I looked at the owner, a man I'd met once at a charity poker game.

"Leo." I purred as I reached the rope. "Tell me you have room for one more at this boring table."

Leo looked at me, then at the miserable Arthur in the center of his booth. He grinned, sensing a way to liven up the atmosphere. "For you, Elara? Always."

He unclipped the rope.

I stepped onto the platform, weaving through the crowd until I was standing directly in front of Arthur. The air around him felt different, colder, tenser.

He didn't look up until I sat down in the empty space right next to him. Our thighs didn't touch, but the heat of his body radiated towards me.

Arthur's head snapped toward me. When he realized who it was, his nostrils flared, and his blue eyes striking daggers into me.

"You." he rasped, his voice barely audible over the thumping music.

I didn't even get to reply, before he cut me off.

"-Leo, get her out of here." Arthur snapped.

Leo had on a shit-eating grin as leaned forward, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Relax, Artie." Leo laughed, throwing an arm over the back of the velvet booth.

He looked at me, taking in the silver dress and the way I wasn't flinching under Arthur's glare, something was stirring at the back of his head. "I'm the one who invited her over. You've been sitting here like a gargoyle for two hours."

He scratched his stubble beard, lazily. "I brought you out here to get laid, or at least remember what a woman looks like, not to calculate the ROI on my speaker system."

Arthur's gaze snapped to Leo's, shooting daggers at him. "I am leaving." he announced, starting to stand.

"You can't." Leo chuckled.

"The press is still at the front door waiting for the 'Biomedical ice King' to give his statement." He leaned forward, whispering just enough for him to hear.

"You walk out now with that shitty look on your face, and the merger headlines tomorrow are going to be 'Sterling Cracks Under Pressure.' Just sit. Breathe. Talk to the pretty lady."

Arthur sank back in defeat, eyes avoiding mine like I was medusa.

I leaned in, my nostrils wafting his intoxicating scent of crisp cologne, but this time, it had a hint of musk. His sweat. And, that just made his scent more addictive.

"Leo is right about the press." I whispered into his ear.

His jaws tightened, before he snapped his head to look at me, our faces just inches away. "I believe I made myself clear, Miss Vance." He seethed.

My heart raced from our proximity. I don't know what it was, but I loved seeing him lose this perfect control he always held. I wandered how much control he'll lose, while fucking.

"You did." I purred, leaning in close so my lips were inches from his ear.

My thighs clenched at the thought, I wasn't thinking straight after three shots. "But you look like you're about to have a panic attack, Arthur. Are you sure you don't need my help?"

His breathing was unsteady, but he glared at me.

Leo seemed to notice our situation, because he grinned and signaled for the body guard, handing him a key card. "Count yourself a lucky man Arthur, there just happens to be a private exit."

The heavy bass music of the club became muffled as we moved through the service corridor. Leo's bodyguard moved with silent efficiency, swiping the key card through a steel door.

Arthur didn't look back.

He moved with a frantic, his long legs eating up the distance that I had to practically jog to keep up, the sharp click-click-click of my silver stilettos echoing off the concrete walls.

My head was spinning, half from the three shots of tequila, half from the sheer audacity of what I was doing.

We burst out into the private parking garage. The air was bitingly cold, smelling of damp concrete and expensive tires. The silence out here was sudden and deafening.

Arthur stopped at a sleek grey Rolls Royce. Before I could even draw a breath to speak, he spun around.

The movement was so fast I didn't have time to react. He grabbed my upper arms with a firm grip and shoved me back. My back hit a concrete pillar with a dull thud, the cold seeping through the thin silver fabric of my dress.

He didn't let go.

He leaned in, caging me between the pillar and his massive frame. At 5'8, he made me feel small, but it wasn't a feeling of weakness, it was a feeling of being consumed.

"Stay the fuck away from me." he rasped.

My breath hitched.

The 'Proper Tycoon' was gone. Hearing him curse was like hearing a statue scream, it was a total breakdown of his carefully constructed personality and it lit a fire inside me.

All my nerves were tingling from the sheer sight of witnessing his control slip away.

"You think this is a game?" he seethed, his chest heaving against mine. "You think you can just show up in my park, show up at my friend's club, and play with my son to get what you want?"

My heart was hammering against my ribs, but it wasn't out of fear. It was the thrill. The expert in me knew I had him cornered, even if he was the one pinning me to a wall. He was reacting. He was feeling.

"I'm not playing, Arthur." I whispered, my voice thick. I leaned my head back against the pillar, exposing the line of my throat. "I'm offering you a good service."

His gaze dropped to my lips before snapping back to my eyes. His grip on my arms tightened just a fraction. "I want you to disappear back into whatever gutter Caspian Beaumont found you in."

The tequila fueled me with reckless bravery.

I looked him dead in the eye, my lips pulling into a slow, defiant smirk. I shifted my hips forward, feeling the heat radiating off his thighs.

"And if I don't?" I challenged.

He claimed my lips hard, taking me by surprise.

My body was vibrating with desire. This was the most turned on I've ever felt and it was for none other than the ice king tycoon.

I kissed him back harder, tongues tangling together in a sexy tango. He pressed forward, the globes of my breasts squashed between us from the tight proximity.

The kiss was not gentle.

It was wild and passionate like we'd been holding back from tearing each other's clothes off. My hands travelled to his perfectly styled hair, running my fingers through the dark curls.

A moan escaped his lips as his hands travelled down to the full globes of my ass, which was currently, partly covered by my dress.

I ground onto his hardness, wanting more. "Ngh! Oh...fuck...."

He parted from my lips, dragging his hot tongue down my exposed neck, like I was his favorite piece of candy before stopping right at the swell of my breast, nibbling on the swollen skin.

Goosebumps littered my skin. The once, stoic Arthur had turned into a beast, ready to devour me and I wasn't complaining.

"More..." I pleaded, arching my back to feel more.

His large hands squeezed my ass, slipping past the silver hem of my dress to grab my bare ass. I shivered, not caring that my bare ass was exposed to the open air.

"Ugh...Arthur..." I moaned.

Arthur sucked hard on my skin, dragging the flesh between his teeth before soothing it with his hot tongue. I was going insane, my mind could not process what was happening.

A wet patch was forming at the center of my lacy thong. I clench my thighs together, hoping to ease the throbbing.

Just as I was about to beg him for more, a loud clang of an empty can echoed through the empty parking lot. Arthur tensed immediately and pulled away as fast as possible, like had just come in contact with a toxin.

A cat meowed, its tiny feet pattering behind the rows of private cars.

Arthur's pupils were blown wide, dark curls disheveled and lips, red and swollen from the hot kiss.

We stared at each other, taking in what exactly just happened and I could see the instant shock on his face.

His chest was heaving. "M-miss Vance, I-"

I swallowed, feeling utterly ravaged as I pulled down my tiny dress that had ridden up to cover my ass. Arthur cursed low, his hands clenching into a fist at his side before he made a move to turn.

"Forget that this ever happened. It was a mistake." Before storming into his car and drifting off with screeching tires.

I leaned against the pillar, inhaling deeply because as much as I detested to admit it. That was the best makeout I've ever had in my life.

And it was from Arthur freaking Sterling.