Chapter 47: "Assumptions from Miss Vale's Gardens."

February 8, 6:00 PM. Mansion and Estate District of Dreamside, Cocoavilla.
Having driven through the main gates, Alex parks his Tesla in the mansion’s parking lot. He gets out and looks over the grounds. The Aria mansion is essentially gardens, with residential and technical buildings set into them. The gardens are full of tropical plants and minimalist sculptures. Cocoavilla is smaller in territory and population, yet everything here makes it clear that its owner is a successful photographer, singer, and head of a large modeling agency. Unlike the Château, with its “We have Versailles at home,” Cocoavilla is done in a mix of Italian and African style, which makes it unique.
Alex is dressed in a white short-sleeve shirt and lightweight black trousers. In his hands is a gift for Aria—a large light-pink box with a red ribbon bow.
The idea of a sudden visit to Aria came up yesterday, during the conversation with Lila while they were working on the book. It is purely strategic—at least according to Alex. Brian is currently on tour, the media news feed confirms it, and Thursday evening is the most convenient time for such a visit: usually a good part of the Mansion and Estate District is either preparing for the traditional weekend parties or off doing something else.
Alex shifts from foot to foot, listening to the silence. He likes it. No one around, and the gardens sunk in the evening dark, and it relaxes him. After a minute, he walks to the entrance door.
The door is opened by the butler Veronika Holub—a pleasant, tall blonde model who lives in this creative commune and often works as butler. She is dressed in a white deep V-neck backless crop tank top and tight black leggings.
“Good evening, Alex,” Veronika greets him with a smile. “I assume you’re here for Aria.”
“Yeah.” Alex shows the pink box. “Decided to hang out this evening with my girlfriend’s best friend.”
Veronika nods. “Come in, before you multiply the gossip in this town.”
Alex walks inside, rolling his eyes. “Oh, Aria constantly does that herself, you know that.”
Veronika steps aside with a fluid motion, posture immaculate, breasts noticeable, and gestures into the mansion. “She does indeed. But it’s one thing to witness gossip and another to be the subject of it.”
Alex strides past her into the foyer, the light-pink box cradled against his chest. “So, I don’t hear any screams or singing—looks like Aria isn’t busy. Is she upstairs, in the big lounge? Or in the smaller lounge?” He casts a philosophical glance at Veronika’s chest. “By the way, what’s the gossip? I always need new information for new books. Is there something that can be shared with ‘Kate’s weird boyfriend’?”
Veronika chuckles. “Oh, you’re always such a curious writer, Alex.” She gestures toward the grand staircase. “Aria’s in the big lounge upstairs. She was just having a rather heated phone call with someone.”
Alex chuckles. “Got it. Alright, if we need anything, we’ll call for you.”
He goes upstairs.

Aria, in a short black-and-white checkered pleated skirt and a white top that leaves her midriff bare, looks a bit out of sorts. The call, apparently. She shifts from foot to foot in front of Alex, looking him over from head to toe.
“Don’t be surprised,” Alex says, showing the box. “A few days ago, Saturday morning, we had a strange conversation, and we didn’t part well. And yes, sorry about Lila. I wouldn’t have let her pull out your ponytail anyway.”
Aria’s eyes drop to the pink box, then climb back up the white shirt. The tightness at the corner of her mouth eases into something thinner and meaner than a smile. The call is still buzzing in her ear. Some agency idiot who thought Thursday night was a good time to argue with her. Alex standing there with a ribbon and an apology is so perfectly, stupidly timed that she almost laughs. She remembers Saturday well enough: his cock twitching under her hand, the permission falling out of him in a whisper, and then Lila in a thong and a bucket hat, sweet as poison, promising to stuff that ponytail somewhere new. Aria had left before the joke could become a scene. She hadn’t needed a scene. She’d already got what she came for.
“Lila wouldn’t have pulled it,” she says, shifting her weight so the pleated skirt ticks against her thigh. Her voice is still a little rough from the phone. “And you…” Her gaze flicks to the box again, then to his face. “You drove over because Brian’s not here and you still don’t know what you agreed to.”
Alex smirks. “Alright, I was out of it. The moment was just unfortunate. You caught me right in the middle of jerking off and I wanted you to leave faster. So sorry. Here, this is for you.” He holds the box out to her. “There’s probably what you want to find out in there. Consider this the biggest apology from me.”
Aria tilts her head and takes the box with deliberate slowness. She lets it rest against her hip as she moves closer, fingers brushing the ribbon. “You’re right about one thing,” she murmurs. “That was a moment.” She’s standing too close. “But I don’t think you were out of it.” She taps the box with a nail. “I think you just didn’t realize what you were saying.”
Her thumb traces the bow. “And now you’re delivering it with a present.”
Alex smiles slightly. “I just remembered one of our conversations. Almost two years ago. Remember? The 4th of July.”
Aria’s face changes. She looks stunned.
“Um. Alright… I got it.” Her voice isn’t quite her own. Then she pulls herself together. Her fingers curl around the box, grip tightening just enough to crease the ribbon under her nails. Her lips part slightly. Alex sees the shift in her breathing before she covers it with a smirk.
“You really do keep your promises, don’t you?” she murmurs. The box isn’t heavy. Wrong shape for anything electronic, too small for a gun. The way she handles it suggests she already knows what’s inside.
“It’s partly about this whole event you arranged for us,” Alex says. “Cuckolding, open relationships… Me, Kate, you, Brian… But not only that. I partly understand why you arranged all this. I just don’t want to say it out loud.”
He walks forward and sits on one of the two soft yellow couches arranged in a V. He looks out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the evening dark.
“The 4th of July, 2022. That evening we talked a lot about our past. I said things I hadn’t even told Kate. Possibly you did too. Then it was forgotten. Even on my part, and I don’t drink at all. Well… there.”
Aria exhales through her nose, slow and deliberate, and sets the box on the glass coffee table. She doesn’t sit. She stays standing.
“You remember a lot,” she says finally.
Alex sighs. “Of course.” He relaxes and looks at her. “I’m a writer. And a good one. I just decided to concentrate on erotica. Although my understanding goes much deeper.” He is silent for a few seconds. “I just want to say we’re not enemies. And yes, Kate still doesn’t know about that conversation. Probably. At least I haven’t told her.” He looks at her. “You apparently haven’t either.”
Aria’s face stays carefully neutral, though something flickers behind her eyes. She steps closer, then closer still, until she’s inches away.
“Oh, I haven’t,” she says, voice smooth. “But I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually.” She sits down next to him.
“Kate knows a lot about me. Almost everything,” Alex says, looking at her. “’Almost,’ because she knows there are things from my past life before the US that I don’t like to remember. So… this Best Boyfriend contest… It’s quite unusual. But expected.”
Aria shifts on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. She watches him, expression giving nothing away.
“You make it sound like I pulled this out of thin air,” she says, amused. “I didn’t plan it. It was more like catching a train before it pulls away.”
Alex smirks. “Well, the only one pulling away for a few months, toward Cambria, is me. Dana and the board still think publicizing male writers at Sogni Nudi will hurt commercialization.”
Aria stretches her arms above her head, the movement feline and deliberate. Her high dark brown ponytail swings as she leans back. “How deliciously dramatic of them,” she purrs. “Keeping you a ghost in your own industry. But ghosts make the best stories, Alex.”
She rises with a fluid grace. “The contest isn’t about secrets. It’s about presence.” She turns to him, tilting her head so far it looks almost painful. “Who makes her feel more alive? The steady comfort she knows by heart, or the lightning strike she didn’t see coming?”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Oh, let’s not do this. In the last few days everyone has already informed me, one hundred percent, about Brian’s 15-inch black dick. Well, at maximum erection.” He smirks. “The poor guy might have problems with a size like that. If not now, then later.”
Aria throws her head back. A sharp, melodic laugh escapes her. “Oh, darling, don’t be so prudish about physics. Size isn’t everything. Though in Brian’s case, it’s certainly a compelling argument.” She waves a manicured hand. “Besides, the universe doesn’t care about problems. It only cares about spectacle.”
Alex looks at her. She looks as innocently sexy as always: babyface, brown eyes, plump little lips, high dark-brown ponytail, the checkered skirt and the bare midriff. Her height makes her look more like an attractive schoolgirl than a successful 27-year-old model, photographer, singer, and businesswoman. He feels himself starting to get aroused, even after jerking off hard an hour ago, as part of preparing for the conversation.
“Yeah, a sight…” Alex says. “You’re probably the best at this. Our Château still took the lead from your mansion when it comes to parties, though. With the friendship between our houses and how close we are, it’s always easier to split a party between two mansions than one. Especially when not everyone fits in one.”
Aria’s smile widens, and she does a little pirouette. “Oh, I do love the art of hosting,” she says, amused. “Though I must say, you’re deflecting with remarkable skill. You didn’t come here to talk about party logistics.” She walks slowly toward him. “Did you?”
Alex smirks. “Yes. I don’t like parties—everyone knows that. That’s more a topic for Kate and you.” He shifts a little on the couch. “Well… I came to bring you this thing.” He nods toward the pink box with a bow on the coffee table. “As a reminder of that conversation about two years ago, and… and… um… to build bridges regarding the current situation. I think I’ve been paying little attention lately to my girlfriend’s best friend. That’s bad.”
Aria stops, her eyes on the pink box. She doesn’t reach for it. She tilts her head, studying him.
“Building bridges,” she repeats. “How very diplomatic of you, Alex. I didn’t know you had a political streak.”
She steps forward and picks up the box with two fingers, lifting the bow with a flick of her wrist. She opens it. Her expression stays unreadable for a heartbeat, then a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t comment on the contents. She closes the box, sets it aside, and sits next to Alex, crossing her ankles.
“Well, bridge built,” Aria says. “Now we can talk about the real meat of the matter.”
Alex turns to her. “Yes. Let’s talk about the new ‘Brian-Kate’ couple you’ve been actively building since September of last year. It’s not just about altruism toward Kate and Brian, is it?”
Aria exhales through her nose and tilts her head back, amused by the directness. Her ponytail sways. She doesn’t answer right away. She taps her chin with one finger, considering him.
“You’re right,” she admits after a pause. “It’s not altruism. I like seeing people get what they want. Especially when it’s fun.” She smirks, leaning forward just enough that her shoulder brushes his arm. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Alex smirks. “Looks like you yourself don’t know the real answer. Is it really that complicated even for you?”
Aria watches him with a half-smile. “Oh, it’s not complicated at all,” she says, tilting her head so her ponytail bounces. “I just like playing with people’s assumptions. You included.”
Alex smiles. “Rather, in recent months you’ve been playing with your assumptions about other people. Right?”
At this Aria freezes. The awkwardness in her posture is uncharacteristic. Alex catches the flash of discomfort before she recovers.
She shifts, stretching one leg out to cross over the other. Her smile doesn’t waver, but her eyes sharpen.
“Oh, that’s rich,” she purrs, light but careful. “You think I’ve been the only one playing with assumptions?”
Alex leans back a little, smirking. “Yeah, almost everyone in Dreamside plays with assumptions. Plenty of people on this planet love to do that. Oh, if only you heard what assumptions Madi, Amy and Lila put forward about you… as well as about Kate. Oh, and what they say about me…” He rolls his eyes. “Well, everything suits me. I have a writer’s career, money, Kate, a mansion, luxurious medical service from a very attractive genius 26-year-old doctor… And at the same time I have almost zero publicity in this entire near-Hollywood closed neo-hippie scene. Just perfect. But you decided with your games to affect my comfort with Kate… And you know? I basically don’t give a fuck, I’m not that porcelain. It’s just the speed and arrogance with which you started doing it that Saturday morning a few days ago…”
Alex stretches a little. “You know what? I agree about your idea with Brian and Kate. We are similar, after all. We’ve been friends for 4 years, and many of our fantasies revolve around black dicks and one blonde.”
Aria tilts her head. Her smirk widens. She uncrosses her legs slowly, then re-crosses them the other way, mirroring his posture on the couch.
“That’s exactly what I thought,” she says. “You’re not as naive as you pretend to be.”
Alex moves closer, pressing against Aria. He is of average height, not at all as large as Brian, so the miniature Aria doesn’t need to look up so much.
“Oh, no… I’m very naive.” Alex giggles. “I obediently leave for a couple of months to Cambria, escaping the paparazzi from the outside world invited to this stupid event called Erodreamarts by our porn-mayor, and meanwhile my girlfriend will be fucking a huge black guy whose dick is comparable to a horse’s. Nothing foreshadows trouble.”
Aria angles her face just slightly.
“Mmm, I wouldn’t call it a horse’s,” she muses. “More like a… well-trained stallion.”
Alex laughs. “You know if he had a dick like a walrus—then he would have a baculum. I think for you and Kate that would be a challenge.”
Aria’s eyes glint, her face inches from his. “Oh, I think I’d manage,” she murmurs. “Katryn too. She’s always been… enthusiastic.”
Alex speaks theatrically and earnestly, holding back a smile. “You know, they say monogamy deprived men of the penis bone. So the morals of Dreamside and your experiments with polyamory, Ari… Is this your opposition to evolution?”
Aria lets out a soft hum.
“Evolution is such a slow, tedious process, Alex,” she says, unhurried. “Why wait for a bone to grow back when you can just outsource the labor? I prefer the efficiency of a curated experience. Besides,” she adds, her gaze drifting to the ceiling, “the friction of a little chaos is far more stimulating than the stagnant peace of a traditional relationship. It keeps the blood flowing.”
She shifts her weight. The fabric of her checked skirt rides up slightly. She doesn’t seem to notice or care. Her focus returns to Alex.
Alex exhales a quiet laugh, his face still inches from hers. “Oh, I see,” he murmurs. “You’re the booster of my strange fantasies.” He speaks theatrically. “Like the sorceress in the tower, you stir your cauldron and smile while I imagine Kate bouncing on Brian’s cock. You just won’t let me quit watching high-budget interracial porn in my free time.”
Aria’s grin is slow as she watches him, her head tilting slightly.
“Mmm,” she hums. “I prefer to think of myself as the catalyst. I just nudge things along… give people the tools to play with their own fantasies.”
Alex smirks. “What about your fantasies?”
Aria’s smile doesn’t waver, but something shifts. She studies him with the same calculating amusement she usually reserves for others, only this time it feels more personal.
“I have plenty of fantasies,” she says, softer. “Most of them don’t require… external participation.” She angles her face slightly, ponytail swaying. “Though I do enjoy watching people play out their own.”
Alex smirks. “Oh, come on… You’re not just a voyeur. There’s something more to it.”
Aria’s smirk deepens, her brown eyes glinting.
“You’re right,” she admits. “There’s always more to it.”
Alex looks into her eyes. “I suppose this has something to do with me? And this whole story with Kate and Brian is just background?”
Aria’s smirk doesn’t falter, but something flickers in her eyes—a moment of genuine surprise before she recovers.
“I like that you think it’s just background,” she murmurs, tilting her head slightly. “But no, Alex… this isn’t just about them. This is about you. About how much you still fascinate me.”
Alex leans back a little, surveying the lounge. He looks at the pink box he brought, still on the coffee table, at the yellow couch they’re sitting on, at the floor-to-ceiling windows. “So there’s something behind this four-year flirtation, isn’t there? And Brian’s crush on Kate simply opened up an opportunity for you?” He says it while looking over Aria’s outfit—a short pleated skirt in a black-and-white checkered pattern and a white top with a bare midriff. His green eyes meet her brown ones. Silence hangs. After a short pause, Alex adds, “Do you have something to eat or drink? If you don’t mind my company for the evening, while your Brian is on tour and the other lovers are somewhere else.”
Aria watches him with amusement, her ponytail swaying slightly as she shifts against the couch cushions. She doesn’t answer right away, letting the question hang. She studies his face—the slight tension around his eyes, the way he’s trying to keep his tone light even as he presses for answers. She stretches one arm along the back of the couch, fingers tracing idle patterns on the upholstery.
“I always have something to eat,” she says finally, voice soft and smooth. “And I’d love company.”
Alex smirks. “How wonderful. I’m glad the other residents of Cocoavilla didn’t manage to devour everything. And yes—as always, no alcohol.”

A few minutes later one of the maids brings food and drinks, and the conversation loosens, drifting across various topics.
“…Well, something like that. Marissa then hit our poor Chase right in the balls. Right in front of everyone. Honestly, I don’t know why they’re still together—she’s very traditional, and Chase constantly cheats while being married.” Alex laughs, taking a sip of cola. “That was the moment I realized social events in Sogni Nudi can be more than boring gatherings with noisy, self-absorbed big shots from the literary industry.”
Aria’s laughter is light and melodic, a sound that contrasts with the cruel satisfaction in her gaze. She leans forward to pick up a grape from the plate, rolling it between her fingers before popping it into her mouth. The movement is casual yet deliberate, drawing attention to her full lips.
“That’s the beauty of it,” she muses, her ponytail swaying as she tilts her head. “The masks slip eventually. People show their true faces when they’re off-script.” She reaches for her own glass—orange juice with a slice of orange floating on the surface—and sips slowly.
“But Chase’s not worth your sympathy. He’s always been a manipulative little shit.”
Alex giggles, getting up from the couch and walking around the lounge. “But nevertheless, thanks to him I’m here at all. Although considering how things were going for him at that time as a literary agent, one can say he also got lucky with me.” He empties the glass of cola in a few gulps and returns to the couches, plopping down on his stomach on one of them and setting the empty glass on the floor. Then he turns onto his side and looks at Aria sitting opposite him.
“By the way, why are the couches arranged in the shape of the letter V? I’ve been to your place several times and they’ve always stood exactly like that. Is this some local meme of yours in Cocoavilla?” he asks, trying at the same time to see from his position whether her panties are visible under the short skirt.
Aria’s grin widens, her brown eyes twinkling. She stretches her legs out in front of her, deliberately shifting so the hem of her skirt rides up just a little higher. “The V shape?” she muses, tilting her head. “I like the way it makes people face each other. It’s… intimate.”
Alex smirks, arching on the couch like a cat. “Fuck, you’re Captain Obvious. Well… then they would just stand opposite each other at a small distance. Like in hundreds of the same lounges all over Dreamside. Why the letter V?”
Aria chuckles. “Because it forces a choice,” she says deliberately. “To sit at the tip of the V and face each other directly, or to stay at the outer edges and maintain distance.”
She reaches for her orange juice, swirling the liquid before taking a slow sip. “And I like watching people make those choices.”
Alex’s smirk deepens as he shifts, arm pillowing his head while he watches her. “I thought so,” he says. “Looks like genius people really do think alike. Funny idea in general.” He sits up on the couch, leaning back against the rest and stretching his legs out, boots brushing the floor. “It’s like me and Kate with our Sexodrome. Plenty of people wonder why we named that huge couch-bed that way, and they come up with the most banal theories. In reality it was a momentary linguistic slip, back when we were role-playing the Normandy landing. She and I were an American and a British soldier, and the Nazi was a scarecrow of the current president of China, which we then burned. I mean we burned the scarecrow, not the president. It wasn’t our most sophisticated game, but the sex was excellent, as always.”
Aria watches him closely, amusement curling at the corner of her lips. She sips her juice, humming. “And what did you do with the ashes?” she asks, tilting her head.
Alex smirks. “Kate suggested we make an omelet out of them, but I insisted we shouldn’t waste such a precious resource.” He gestures vaguely. “We ground the ashes into a fine powder, dissolved it in some wine, and drank the cocktail.” He pauses, still smirking. “But of course that’s a joke. We just threw it away. It’s ash. And it was a scarecrow of the president of China. We didn’t want to catch communism even from his ash. Even the Chinese version of pseudo-communism. We cast him as the Nazi because communism and Nazism are essentially the same thing, especially with the whole history of Tibet and the Uyghurs.”
Aria chuckles, shaking her head. “You two are something fucking else.” She sets her glass down and crosses one leg over the other, slow and deliberate. “I think I’m starting to understand why Kate keeps you around.” Her brown eyes sparkle as she studies him.
Alex raises his index finger. “Oh! We prepared for that roleplay for a week. Kate’s acting career and connections came in handy. She took the costumes from some Netflix series about the Second World War.” He thinks for a couple of seconds, then exclaims. “Exactly! I remembered the name. Earth Between Us. The one about the homosexual love of a Jew and a member of the Waffen-SS. The series failed spectacularly, but the costumes came in useful. Kate said the costume designer didn’t even ask why she needed them. Kate didn’t even star in that trash. Well, it’s Kate Norwin. How do you refuse Kate Norwin? If only that woman knew what her costumes got used for…”
Aria bursts out laughing. “Oh, my… Fuck me. Fuck me in every hole. You two are absolute something,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s actually genius. I knew you and Kate were into historical reenactments. She once told me about this Roman thing she did with you, where she played a gladiatrix.”
Alex laughs, shifting on the couch and spreading his arms and legs. “Ah, that. Basically, I once found a dumb porn story on some site dedicated to the castration fetish. A girl gladiator beat some guy in the arena and then castrated him. He became her personal eunuch. We cut the hardcore castration stuff and made it more comedic. Basically Kate fucked me in the ass with a strap-on in the gladiatrix costume. There was that too.”
Aria gasps in delight. “Ouch… You are just… I don’t even have words. Kate must have gone absolutely wild in that outfit.” She leans forward slightly, one arm on her knee. “Did she call you her slave?” Her brown eyes glitter. “Did you really remove the castration stuff? I bet you loved being her little gladiator eunuch.”
Alex lets out a short chuckle. “Come on. That’s too fucked-up a fetish even for me. I prefer to keep all my body parts, even in fantasies. Well, what about you? Is there really no one among your boys you’d fool around with like that?”
Aria smirks. “Oh, I’ve done far more interesting things than that.” She shifts on the couch, uncrossing her legs just to cross them the other way, her skirt riding up another inch. “But I wouldn’t exactly call it role-playing. I don’t see the point of pretending to be something you aren’t. If I want to be dominant, I won’t waste time pretending I’m some kind of princess. That would be ridiculous.”
She angles her face, studying him. “You and Kate have the most incredible relationship dynamic. You know that, right?”
Alex smirks. “Perhaps so.” He gets up and moves to the couch Aria is sitting on. He looks at her.
“So, envy. Isn’t that right?” He brings his face closer. “And boredom. Kate and I have tried a lot of things over four years. And your Brian… well, he’s not that creative, right? So when he fell for Kate, you decided it was a way to help them both, tease me, and freshen up your own relationship with Brian.” Alex leans back a little, looking at the ceiling. “You don’t always need to weave intrigues for things that simple. Especially among friends.”
Aria doesn’t back away. She holds his gaze, lips curving into a calculating smile. “Of course I was bored,” she admits, almost musical. “But that’s not the main reason.”
Alex snorts. “And the main reason is that you fell in love. With Kate, or with me?”
Aria freezes and stays silent. Longer than she usually does. Her expression shifts, just a flicker, a tiny tightening at the corners, before she recovers with a smirk. She angles her face slightly, eyes narrowing. “Love?” she echoes, drawing the word out like she’s testing it. “No, Alex. Not love.”
She leans back against the couch, one arm along the backrest. “Love is too… narrow. Too defined.” Her head tilts as she watches him. “I like you. I like Kate. I like watching you two together.” She speaks more quietly. “And I like watching you both… change.”
Alex smirks. “Alright, I got it. No point touching on that.” He shifts on the couch. “So what, are you going to move in with us too? Considering Brian will be living in the Château starting next week? Your guy really set himself up nicely. Two girls and a mansion for free. His Brian’s Crib in Beverly Hills is impressive, of course, like a lot of buildings in Sunset Ridge, but it doesn’t measure up to the mansions in Dreamside.”
Aria tilts her head, the smile staying small. “Two girls and a mansion… Brian’s Crib is cute. Dreamside is prettier. And you already know I like pretty things that move.” She shifts, skirt riding, eyes still on him. “Ask me again when he’s actually sleeping there. I answer better once I’ve seen what the room does to people.”
Alex snorts. “Yeah. Looks like you’re coming back to yourself. General answers again, not a drop of specifics.” He looks toward the corridor. “By the way, about Veronika. I didn’t expect to see her this evening. I never even asked her about the modeling project in Portugal. Did the whole thing actually fly? If it flopped, I don’t want to bring it up with her.”
Aria smiles. “Oh, it flew beautifully,” she says, satisfied. “Veronika’s contract is for the full next month. She was very pleased with her payment arrangement.” She shifts, stretching one leg across the other, hand on her knee. She chuckles. “So pleased she immediately started planning another collaboration. Two months this time, instead of one. She said Portugal is perfect for her right now.”
Alex exclaims theatrically. “Oh nooo… looks like you’ve lost your butler for at least six months. Already casting for a new slave?”
Aria’s eyes gleam. “Oh, she’s not gone forever,” she purrs, rolling her shoulders in a lazy stretch. “Just a working vacation. But I will need someone to take her place, yes.” She shifts again, slow and deliberate. “Maybe I’ll find another unit for that while Veronika’s away.”
Alex raises his eyebrows. “What about Susanna? She’s the main butler, right? Or is she in Europe too? You know, I think you need to hire an actual butler, not a ‘butler.’ It’s easier for us at the Château with Kae. Her OnlyFans career doesn’t require mobility.”
Aria says thoughtfully, “Susanna is here. But she’s been off the clock, focusing on her little coding adventures. The woman has this adorable obsession with C++ and high heels. As for hiring an ‘actual’ butler…” She lets the word hang, a small sharp smile on her lips. She chuckles. “The problem with ‘actual’ butlers, Alex, is that they come with baggage like dignity and retirement plans. Both are terribly boring. I prefer my staff to have… side interests. Like at your and Kate’s mansion. Like your darling Kae and her fun little digital gallery.” She lets out a soft humming laugh, gaze drifting toward the ceiling. “When you strip away the pretense of a ‘professional career,’ you get to the real meat of a person. Your Kae is a masterpiece of efficiency. Professional in the foyer, a real star on OnlyFans, and a business mogul on her phone. That’s the gold standard.”
Alex giggles. “Yeah. You’ve noticed that for a while, I suppose. You’ve been friends for all four years. But she still lives with us, so your attempts to lure her over here have failed. Overall her style fits our Versailles better. Even if her everyday clothes are always just bras and panties. But what kind… Damn, she must have thousands of designs in her wardrobe.” He glances toward the window. “It’s so dark. I think if you put more lights in your gardens, it would be better. Feels like tons of vegetation are about to bury your mansion.”
Aria answers easily. “The garden isn’t meant to be seen. It’s meant to be felt.”
Alex speaks in an exaggeratedly theatrical way, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah… of course…”
Aria looks at him strangely. “It’s like sex in a dark room,” she says. “You don’t need to see it—you feel it.”
Alex goes even more theatrical, and Aria laughs. “But if it’s dark—how can anyone see mine and Kate’s costumes? You think authentic outfits are that easy to get? Even expensive erotic shops sell some kind of parody porn garbage!”
Aria’s laugh comes out rich. She props one elbow on the back of the couch. “Authenticity doesn’t mean you have to see everything clearly,” she says, amused. “The mind fills in the blanks better than any camera ever could.”
Alex leans toward her and whispers, squinting, sultry, parodying some hero from an erotic novel. “But first you should try this, Miss Vale… As a photographer and head of a modeling agency, you should know the value of every frame… When the prelude becomes more important than the main act…”
He leans back and speaks in his normal voice. “You yourself suggested I watch Kate and Brian have sex, but I’m too sensitive for that. A video of the act I can still watch…”
He leans toward her again, sultry. “You should try that with Brian too… the scenario ‘The Invasion of Black Hannibal into Rome…’ Hop—and right with his huge black shaft into your Italian ‘Aria-Pussiana’…”
He barely gets the last words out, holding back laughter.
Aria stares at him for a second, lips parted. Then the laugh hits her wrong and comes out bright and ugly, the kind that used to crack on talk shows when a guest was still pretending not to know the punchline.
“Oh my God. Hannibal. Aria-Pussiana. You did not just—“ She presses the heel of her hand to her mouth, shoulders shaking, ponytail tipping forward. “You’re disgusting, Mr. Gonshorowski. Like, actually. That’s so stupid it’s almost romantic.”
She drops the hand. The smile stays, smaller now, meaner at the corners.
“Ok… Only don’t do the sultry voice. It’s giving community-theater vampire. If you’re gonna pitch me a scenario, pitch it like you mean it. Black Hannibal into Rome. Fine.” Her eyes are bright with amusement.
“I mean it when I tell you to put more effort into your fantasies,” she says, voice lower now, more teasing. “Rome wasn’t burned in a day. Hannibal didn’t just show up with his dick out. There was an invasion. A siege. A… a psychological conquest. Carthaginian fleet landing at the mouth of the Tiber. The slow march inland.”
Alex brings his face closer to hers. “I think we need to hang out more often.”
Aria smirks. “In your version of ‘hang out’ that always means either talking or going shopping with Kate or Lila.”
Alex says, flat. “Yeah, I have this safe movie ‘gay best friend’ mode, and now also a cuckold mode these last few days. Thanks to you, by the way.”
Aria’s smile doesn’t change, but something shifts in her expression. “That’s the point, isn’t it?” she murmurs. “To push you out of your comfort zone. You’ve been safe with Kate for four years. And now…”
She leans closer, a few inches away. Her breath touches his lips as she speaks.
“Now you get to see what happens when you step into the light.”
Alex talks a little faster, excited. “But you forgot about my panic attacks. Which I barely managed to deal with over the last four years thanks to Kate, Lila, and Madi. Maybe partly thanks to you, considering your funny flirting in Kate’s presence. I got used to American life and the customs of this whole neo-hippie town quickly, but it wasn’t easy. And honestly, it stresses me out that I now have to share Kate with some Brian who has a black cock down to his knees. I only agreed to this because I love Kate very much and want to give her pleasure.” His voice drops to a whisper. “But yes—thoughts of how they recently had sex on their first official date in Topanga turn me on a lot. So I hope we stop going in circles, repeating the same thing. And yes, I agree to this Valentine’s Day contest, if you and Kate like the idea so much.”
Aria’s smile shifts. Something odd crosses her face. She doesn’t pull away. She tilts her head slightly. “Oh, you love it,” she says. “And I know how much it stresses you out. You get to watch this process, you get to decide how much you handle… and you get to keep your Goddess safe while she plays with someone new.” She reaches out, fingers grazing the sleeve of Alex’s shirt. A lingering touch. “You’re a writer, Alex. You know how these stories go. This is just another chapter.”