My car leaves the bustling city behind, ascending a mountain road that offers a breathtaking panorama of the urban sprawl below. It finally comes to a halt before an unmarked gate, guarded by stern-faced military personnel.

  Magenta, my driver, lowers all the windows. A soldier approaches, and upon recognizing me, snaps a crisp military salute. Another soldier, familiar with the license plate, raises the barrier arm, granting us passage.

  Beyond the gate, a winding driveway, flanked by impeccably sculpted hedges and vibrant flowerbeds, leads to a cluster of imposing mansions, each a testament to architectural grandeur.

  The car pulls up beneath one of the mansions. A young woman, dressed in a nurse's uniform, quickly descends the steps.

  The Red Party provides hundreds of high-level officials with the comprehensive package the United States offers its president: housing, securities, cooks, nurses, gardeners—all the comforts of home. The nurses are specially trained from a young age for medical knowledge as well as submissiveness. Xuefang is one of them.

  Her white nurse top flounces around her upper thighs. It practically begs someone to bend her over their knee, flip it up, and spank her.

  "Lyra." She dips into a charming little curtsy. "You're here late."

  "You know how it is, darling. Business waits for no one."

  She flashes an impish smile. "Should I be hurt that you don't want to play with me tonight?"

  "I always want to play with you." I tap her playfully under the chin. "But tonight we have business to discuss."

  She arches a brow. "And here I thought it was because Madame Gu warned you off."

  That draws a surprised laugh from me. There was a time when this girl wouldn't have dared to mouth off like this. She's not entirely wrong, though.

  I lightly trail my nails down her neck, enjoying the shiver that ripples through her. "Another time, I promise.”

  "Promise?" She's breathy just from this touch. God, I don't know what game Kaili is playing with this girl, but she should get off her ass and do stop wasting time.

  Xuefang is a gift of a submissive and Kaili’s too smart to let something so precious slip from her grasp.

  "Promise." I squeeze her shoulder gently. "But not tonight."

  Xuefang pouts playfully, though it's mostly for show. She leads me through the hallway to the door of the playroom. The escort is purely ceremonial. I know this portion of the mansion like the back of my hand.

  She opens the door and steps aside. "Master is awaiting. Enjoy."

  "I always do." I enter the room and close the door softly behind me.

  The rug is thick enough to swallow the sound of my steps. It yields under my heels as I take in the room—this careful imitation of a penthouse bedroom, luxury staged like a lie everyone agrees to believe. Muted walls. A dresser with a mirror positioned to catch the bed at just the right angle. Two nightstands like obedient sentries. The fireplace murmurs, heat and light licking along the edges of everything.

  At the center of it all kneels Xialai Bo.

  Head bowed. Hands behind his back. Obedience made flesh.

  I take my time walking toward him, allowing the anticipation to build. We've played this game before, countless times. He's clad in nothing but a pair of slacks, his muscles tense as I move to his back.

  Another day, I’d draw this out until he trembled with the need to look up, to be touched. I don’t have the patience for it right now. Tonight’s operation keeps circling my thoughts like a blade.

  I prepared it carefully. Not specifically for Evangeline—no. I’ve simply made a habit of stacking the deck whenever I can. Leverage becomes money. Money becomes power. At this level, risk is not an exception.

  It is the cost of entry.

  I thread my fingers through his dark hair and give a gentle tug, lifting his head until our eyes meet.

  Like many of his colleagues, Xialai bears the scars of the Cultural Revolution, a decade when sons were forced to betray their fathers, mothers to report their sons, and the threat of purge loomed constantly.

  To prove his loyalty to the 'great leader,' he had to kick his own father in the chest, with such force that it broke his father's ribs. The trauma and guilt had always been locked away inside him, until he met me. I found a way to unlock it, and let it flow.

  I give his hair another light tug. "Tell me your safe word."

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  "Protocol." His voice drops to a low rumble. The word fits him—an instinct honed over decades, the switch he’s learned to flip when survival matters.

  "Good boy." I release him and move back to sit on the edge of the mattress. Xialai watches me warily, a hunger smoldering in his dark brown eyes.

  I often wonder how others in the Red Party miss that hunger. Perhaps they mistake it for lust—an easy mistake to make when he's smiling and playing the role of loyal subordinate. That's how this started, after all. A mutually beneficial arrangement where we both got our needs met. Sexually, yes. But once we realized we shared a craving for dominant power, a peculiar kind of friendship blossomed.

  Behind this man’s wicked charm and eager submission lies undeniable ambition. I even find myself drawn to it—a danger I’ve never been able to resist.

  I crook my finger and lean back, bracing my hands on the mattress behind me. Xialai crawls across the floor toward me, and the sight thrills me as much as the knowledge of how close I am to my revenge. Little by little, I’m reeling him in, just as I’m going to do to Evangeline.

  Xialai stops just short of touching me and brushes his fingers against the hem of my dress. "May I?"

  "Do you think you deserve it?" I challenge, a playful lilt in my voice.

  He gives me a quicksilver grin, one that radiates confidence. "I know I do."

  “Mmm.” I spread my legs just a bit, all the invitation he needs to start sliding his hands up my legs, bringing my dress with them. He takes his time, and it’s a long, silky journey up.

  I wait until he reaches my panties before speaking. "I should thank you in advance."

  "Oh?" His question is distracted, his gaze still on his hands as he hikes my dress higher and strokes me between my shapely, taut thighs. "Are you thanking me in advance for the orgasms?"

  “Darling, you know those orgasms are mine by right. It’s your reward to give them to me.”

  He flashes another grin. "I better get started then."

  "You'll want to hear this first."

  He hesitates, but finally rests his palms on my thighs and gives my face his full attention. "Okay, I'm listening."

  “I just came back from the Elysian Collection,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. “Jianhua and I are throwing our weight behind you. You’ll have the votes. You’ll make the next Politburo Standing Committee.”

  That, right there, is why I can never fully trust him. The stillness. The calm. Anyone else would erupt—gratitude, ambition, hunger. Yet, he merely listens calmly, as if I were discussing the purchase of a pair of shoes. Just a slight loss of focus in his eyes betrays him, a telltale sign only I can detect, revealing the frantic calculations whirring in his mind.

  The Ruby Five are selected by the votes of all living members, past and present, of the Politburo Standing Committee. It's the only power a retired Party leader retains, and it can only be exercised every five years. Yet, this power acts as a safeguard, protecting at least some of their gains and their safety after they leave office.

  Punishment does not apply to Ruby Five. This unspoken protocol is understood and even expected by every citizen in the Ruby Republic.

  Xialai's father, one of the old revolutionary generals, claimed his seat among the Ruby Five twenty-five years ago. Though still alive and well at ninety-two, his advanced age means the window of opportunity for Xialai is closing fast.

  Meanwhile, Jianhua and I manage fortunes for both retired and current Ruby Five. I open anonymous offshore accounts, veil their assets in foreign trusts. Jianhua handles the domestic empire—stocks, bonds, real estate, influence. Together, we are the vault and the key.

  Our endorsement is currency. With Bo Senior's maneuvering, Xialai has a chance to rise all the way to General Secretary.

  "What does Jianhua want?" Xialai cuts directly to the point.

  "You haven't asked what I want yet." I tilt his chin up, feigning displeasure.

  "My queen, you know I would humbly accept all your commands and... punishments." Xialai’s eyes drift between my thighs as he speaks.

  "Jianhua wants shares of Antz Financial before it goes public, at the Series D price, of course." I tilt his head up, locking eyes with him, compelling his focus.

  "How much?" Xialai's expression shifts into his bargaining face. For all his talk of obedience, he's an expert at separating business and pleasure.

  "How much can you get? And don't bullshit me."

  "No more than five percent," Xialai says reluctantly.

  Xialai is the chairman of FRC, the regulatory body overseeing banking, insurance, securities and futures markets, but he operates in Qiuhan Wang's shadows. This was Wang's old job and remains his territory.

  "What if I give you evidence of their violations?" I lean down slightly, showing him the view beneath my wrap dress. Xialai laughs, soft and wicked. "Every financial firm violates regulations. That's how they fund off-the-book money to give to people like us."

  “Unless it becomes a PR crisis.” I pull his head gently to my chest. “Ask for something outrageous. Let them beg Wang for help.”

  He shivers. Just slightly. The thought of confronting a Ruby Five rattles him, but the hesitation is fleeting.

  It's a silent confirmation. He chooses to play this game. He chooses to trust me.

  Some days, I can hardly believe he'd do this. I don't truly trust him, but it's difficult to remember to keep him at arm's length when he looks at me like he does now. Like I'm a goddess he'd gladly spend his life worshipping.

  If I were a different woman, I might have let down my guard. But I can't.

  I've built my walls too high and too strong to protect myself, and it never occurred to me that I might want a door or window to let someone in.

  The ringing of my phone shakes me from my reverie. I've set it so that only a select few can break through the silence.

  I pick up, and Magenta's low, gravelly voice fills my ear.

  "The rabbit is out of its lair."

  "Zero hour?"

  "Five o'clock."

  That's a little over five hours from now. I need to hurry up.

  "Lyra." Xialai’s voice is laced with concern.

  "Hmm?"

  "Are you going somewhere later? You look exhausted."

  I'm a different breed, but I still get tired. Most days, I wear my armor like a second skin, barely noticing its weight. But there are moments like this—moments when I can't shake the longing to lean. To trust. To let Xialai be more than a weapon I wield. He'd let me. I know he would. But I can't give him that power.

  Instead of answering, I beckon him with a crooked finger. "Give me a kiss, love." Xialai hesitates for the briefest moment, and I almost imagine I see a flicker of hurt in those lustful eyes.

  Then he surges forward, capturing my mouth before I can be certain. He kisses me like he wants to forget everything that's brought him to this point, everything he'll do to climb even higher.

  I savor this moment with him. It comes in every scene, when he drops the charming facade and reveals his true self. In this moment, he's mine and mine alone.

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