The moment she walked in, the room changed.
Celeste felt it first. A shift in the air. A heat that didn’t come from fire or lust—but from power. It rippled through the Playground’s main hall like a current. Conversations stopped. Eyes turned. Even Damian paused.
She wore black silk that clung to every curve, with a slit up her thigh that promised sin without showing it. Her heels clicked softly across the marble. Her mouth, painted deep crimson, was curved in a smile that wasn’t warm. It was hungry.
Celeste didn’t know her name yet.
But the way Damian stood straighter, the way his jaw clenched, told her this woman wasn’t new here.
She was returning.
And she was dangerous.
She approached the edge of the stage, where Aurora knelt in presentation—naked, collared, her leash held gently
