Her silence, His obsession.

Surprisingly, Miss Shante Jarret,infamously dubbed Madam Te,arrived early today. Uncharacteristic, which meant only one thing: she was in a mood. A very specific kind of mood.

She entered the room just as Mackessie exited,her sweet scent filling the room immediately,the silence that followed stretching tight across the air. Everyone who caught sight of her froze. Greta recovered first, blinking out of her shock.

"Te?" she muttered, low but sharp.

The others turned, eyes wide, heads swiveling in disbelief. Not everyone had seen her immediately, but the impact was universal. She commanded attention with the precision of a guillotine,no sound, all steel.

Shante didn't speak. Her expression was unreadable: no smirk, no smile, no anger. Just that icy blankness that made people feel like they were being sized up,and possibly doomed.

Her appearance was sharp enough to draw blood. Silvery ash-blonde hair framed her sculpted face, eyes a haunting shade of white from her signature lenses. Her lips were painted a rich, dark crimson that looked like forbidden fruit,ripe, dangerous, and entirely off-limits.

She wore a black mini-dress made of a sleek, leather-like fabric that clung to her curves with lazy defiance. Slingback heels clicked softly with each step. No lieutenants accompanied her this time,not Maema, not Julian. Then again, she rarely brought them. When she did, it was never both. Always a warning.

Greta, ever the provocateur, hissed beneath her breath, "You heard about the fun and didn't want to miss it, huh, Te?"

She bent again toward Ace, attempting to reclaim his dick with her mouth, but he stopped her. Casually. Effortlessly. He winked at her as he tucked himself back in and walked away without a second glance.

"The fuck, Ace?" Greta snapped, venom in her voice. But Ace didn't respond. His eyes were on one person only.

Shante.

He approached her with slow confidence, lifting a glass of tequila from the nearby table and offering it to her. "Why do you always look hotter with every entrance?" he murmured. "Fire must be jealous,you've outdone it again." He sniffed the air taking in a huge inhale of her sweet scent to calm his throbbing heart.

Shante accepted the drink with a glacial stare, raising it to her lips but not sipping. "You need a new line, Ace. That one's as tired as your last conquest." A small smirk tugged at her lips before she turned to leave.

Ace caught her wrist, dragging her back roughly. "And you need to drop the cold act," he said, voice low. "It's getting old."

She turned slowly, eyes dragging over his grip with clinical distaste. "What is this? A rape fantasy? Thought we were past that."

Ace's jaw flexed. He released her abruptly. "Childish me wanted to break you. Make you bleed. Scream. But the man I am now? I'll wait until you offer yourself willingly,and still make you scream. For more." His voice dropped to a promise, cruel and deliberate, before he walked away.

Shante watched his retreating back and scoffed under her breath.

"Arrogant, I'm sure that's screaming in your mind right now." a voice whispered beside her. Kessie.

Shante didn't flinch. "Guess you're psychic now, Miss Xandros."

Kessie gave a soft laugh. "I envy you, Te."

Shante chewed on a strawberry she picked up from a tray, slow and deliberate. "No, darling. You're the one to be envied." Her gaze flicked toward Kessie with an edge. "You always have a choice." Then she walked away without a second thought.

Kessie stood frozen. That line... she hadn't heard it in years.

Across the room, Ace watched Shante with burning intensity. Hans stood beside him, fresh from a double session with Yael and Susanna, wiping sweat off his brow.

"She's hot. And feisty. Just my type," Ace muttered, eyes fixed.

Hans scoffed. "And way out of your league."

"I'll get her."

"In your dreams."

Ace gritted his teeth. "It'll happen. Right in your face."

Hans rolled his eyes. "You've screwed everyone here. Why fixate on her?"

Ace turned to him, insulted. "That coming from the guy trying to bed her lieutenants?"

"Julian and Maema are different," Hans shrugged. "They're not even subtle. They're meant to be accessible. But Shante?" He shook his head. "Your obsession's pathetic."

"She's not like the others. Her body's a fucking temple. Untouched. Tight. I want to ruin it. Make her scream. Bleed. Beg." Ace's voice was venomous, dark eyes glittering with obsession.

Hans turned sharply. "You're a dick."

Ace glared. "Why?"

"Because that's not seduction, that's fucking revenge, because she hasn't yielded for you. And mind you, she's not yours to punish. You shouldn't even have such thoughts towards a lady." Hans spoke sarcastically.

"She's not a lady," Ace snapped. "She's a cold, manipulative bitch. That's what she is."

Hans stared at him, disappointment thick in his tone. "You're pathetic. And what if she has been fucking someone this whole time? What if she has her own personal gigolo? Then what?"

Ace blinked. "She's not like that."

"You don't know her. None of us do. Velvet Vixens buried their secrets deep. We know nothing."

"Well, I just... I know."

Hans stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Stop pretending you understand her. You sound desperate."

With a growl, Ace grabbed a bottle of vodka and smashed it against the floor. Shards sprayed out like a fractured tantrum, and every eye turned.

The room fell still again.

He was losing control. Losing grip. And Ace knew, in that moment, that he would destroy anyone who tried to stop him from getting what he wanted...

And that is ...

Her.