A Hurt So Sweet Volume Four - Isabella Starling Page 0,47

still there. But it feels as if I might be able to think of something else, if only for one night.

"What's happening?" Pandora whispers as I lead her down the hallway. Dim lighting follows our path. "I'm scared, Dex."

"Don't worry." I knock on a door and a woman with a wide smile opens. I hand Pandora over to her. "They'll take care of you, get you ready."

"Dex?" Her bottom lip is trembling and I feel sick pleasure at the sight of fear on her pretty face.

"You'll be okay." I smirk. "Whatever you think will happen won't, at least not in there."

That won't come until later, I add in my mind, fighting the self-satisfied smile off my face as she nods with relief. The woman leads her into the salon while I take the stairs to the main hall.

Before the entrance, a man with a gold masquerade mask hands me one to use myself. It's one I've picked especially for this - a beautiful, hand-painted Venetian mask in shades of blue, white and gold. I put it on, ensuring nobody will recognize me in the room before walking into the hall.

It looks like it used to in the good old times, when Mom and Dad were still here. They'd host lavish parties for the town's richest inhabitants, and I was allowed to attend with the other kids. Memories of Lily Anna usually sting in this place, but tonight, I'm not thinking about her.

My mind is focused solely on Pandora. The girl I once thought I hated has firmly cemented herself in the front of my mind.

I'm always thinking of her. Can't help but.

I pass through the banquet hall like an unseen shadow. It's easy to get lost amidst the droves of people we've invited. People from Prep, their older siblings. Everyone's here. And everyone's going to see Pandora turned into a toy tonight.

Of course, it's a gentlemen's event. No women allowed. Not for what we want to do to her.

I can't fucking wait for it.

Time passes too slowly, but then the lights finally give me the signal I've been waiting for. They dim even further. Whispers take over the guests, gossip passes around from one ear to the next.

And then the spotlight goes to the entrance, and there she is.

My beautiful toy, the only guest without a mask, shimmering in a dress of liquid gold that brings out the amber flecks in Pandora's eyes. She glows brighter than ever, and I need no further confirmation - I know then and there I love her, without shame.

That's why I have to hurt her.

My hands form fists as she stares at the crowd gathered in her honor. I don't know whether she'll recognize me. Whether I'm foolish hoping she'll be able to do so in such a big crowd. But fuck, I want her to. I want to know her body craves mine, too. I'll work on convincing her mind later. One way or another, though, she'll be mine.

I watch her descend the stairs. Half a dozen hands extended, offering to accompany inside the room. She glances warily between their masked faces. All of the guests are men, of course, and she seems to realize this just as she comes to the conclusion we're all wearing black tuxes. There's no telling who's who.

She looks at the three masked figures before her and I see her swallow before taking one of their hands.

The song rings out in the room, classical, beautiful, fast. The figure swirls Pandora across the dancefloor, and I step aside along with the rest of our guests to give them room.

As the classical song echoes through the luxurious room, Pandora's eyes dance over us, trying to pick me out in a sea of people she doesn't recognize. She's passed on to another dancer, and then another one. She allows them to carry her around the dancefloor as if she's a mannequin. She lets them do anything, everything, and my frown transforms into a smirk as she starts to realize this is the night she's feared for a week now.

The night of her taming. The night she admits she's my toy before all of these people.

Her dancing partners pass her between them, and soon enough, it's my turn. I take her hand, her gaze focused on the audience as I twirl her on the dance floor. I grip her waist, too tightly. Her eyes scan over my mask. An inkling of recognition sparks in her eyes, but before she can figure it