Chapter 407: Ass Plugged, Doubt Unplugged

The door closed, and suddenly the silence inside the car took over. It was like all the stress they had carried for hours had stayed stuck outside.

Dahlia was the first to let go.

She let out a long, shaky sigh, like a balloon deflating all at once. She collapsed into her seat, arms hanging loose over her knees, completely drained.

"I think," she said, her voice trembling a little, "I just aged ten years in one night."

Victoria, on the other hand, was in another world.

She couldn’t sit still. She was almost bouncing on her seat, hands clenched against her chest. Her smile was so huge it had to hurt her cheeks. She looked like a kid who had just hit the jackpot and didn’t know what to do with all that excitement.

"Did you see his face?" she asked, talking a little into the air, hands moving. "Did you REALLY see his face when Hector landed on the table?"

"I think we all saw it, ma’am," Dahlia said, a little stunned by the sudden enthusiasm.

Victoria turned to Nash.

Her eyes were shining. She looked almost shocked, like she still needed to check that it had actually happened.

"You threw him," she said, with a small laugh. "On MY own table."

"It was a nice table," Nash admitted, smiling. He was clearly enjoying the show.

"A nice table completely destroyed," Victoria corrected, bursting out laughing.

Dahlia sat there watching them with a strange look, sliding from pure exhaustion into outright astonishment. She knew Victoria. Cold. Calculated. Scary in a negotiation. But every time Nash was around her... wow.

"Ma’am," she said, mouth slightly open, "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that."

Victoria wasn’t even listening anymore.

She had already turned back to Nash and put her hand on his arm, squeezing lightly.

"Thank you," she said, her voice suddenly soft and sincere. "Really. And I’m sorry I stopped you when you went after Flash."

Nash raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Stopped me from what?"

"You would have killed him," Victoria said, with a guilty little smile. "Like, literally killed him. And in that moment, the only thing that mattered to me was that bastard not putting his dirty hands on you. I didn’t give a damn about saving his skin."

"He’ll get his dose," Nash said. "Just a little later than planned."

Victoria sank back into the seat.

The excitement dropped, leaving room for thought. She looked out the window, quiet for a second.

"I still can’t believe Lorenzo actually wants me to inherit Apex," she said, lower. "It smells like a trap."

"I didn’t see anything shady," Nash said honestly.

He had checked Lorenzo’s system. There was no concrete mention of a hidden intention. Until further notice, Lorenzo had really offered Apex to Victoria.

"Honestly," Nash went on, "it looks solid. He wants an heir who can actually hold it. You’re the only option he has left."

"But..." Victoria added, sensing there was more.

"But there’s a little more than that. Look, I realized that..." He started, then stopped.

He glanced toward the driver. The guy was silent, focused on the road, but he was there. And he could hear everything.

Victoria followed his eyes and understood immediately. She nodded.

"No plans in front of a witness," she said, remembering their rule. "We’ll talk later."

She turned back to him.

Her expression changed. The nervous excitement from before became something slower. More deliberate. She leaned closer. Her hand slid from Nash’s arm to his thigh, nails tracing a thin line through the fabric of his pants.

"In the meantime," she murmured, "I think you deserve a little reward. For what you did tonight."

"Um... ma’am," Dahlia cut in, raising a hand, "I’m still here."

Victoria ignored her completely.

Her eyes stayed on Nash. Her hand kept exploring.

Nash smiled. He was clearly into it. Then an idea crossed his mind. Something lit up in his eyes.

"So I can really ask for anything I want?" he said, almost too innocent.

Victoria blinked, feeling the trap close without knowing what it was yet.

"...Yes?"

Much later, far from the Spires, Nash walked out of the shop first.

He had a small pouch in his hand and a satisfied smile on his face.

"Seriously," he was saying, "did you see the creativity in a place like that? There are engineers behind that stuff. Real designers."

He walked ahead, easy. The pouch tapped lightly against his thigh.

"Like the guy who invented a vibrator with two motors and a remote thin enough to fit in a pocket. Or the one who decided a plug needed exactly that curve. That’s not luck. That’s art."

He kept talking.

Then he noticed Victoria wasn’t keeping up.

He turned around.

She was coming after him the hard way. A wide black veil covered her head. Huge sunglasses hid half her face, even though it was late. Her steps were stiff and short, like she was walking on eggshells.

And Nash knew exactly why.

The shop was a sex shop. And Nash had decided to use Victoria’s "reward" to have a little fun and keep an old promise.

She had a rabbit vibrator buried to the hilt in her pussy, the ears pressing her clit with every step. Behind that, a deep, heavy plug filled her ass.

Her panties were nothing but a soaked rag. A warm line was already running down her thighs, sliding under her dress. It was too visible for her to pretend.

She groaned.

"Walk a little faster," Nash said, smiling way too pleased with himself.

She answered with a muffled sound. Somewhere between a word and a complaint.

"Shut up," she finally managed, voice tight, measuring every step. "You little asshole."

"You’re the one who said I deserved a reward," he reminded her, speeding up on purpose.

"I take it back." She squeezed her thighs together. Another thin line escaped. "Completely. I should have let the guy mess up your dirty... nhh..."

The vibrator changed rhythm in Nash’s pocket. Or maybe in hers. Victoria almost missed a step.

Nash smiled.

He slowed down to get closer. His eyes dropped. The dress clung too low. It was wet. Under the streetlights, a shiny line ran down the inside of her thigh.

His smile widened.

"Careful," he said, light. "The more you get mad, the more your muscles tighten. And the more you squeeze, the more you feel it. Try it like me. In... out..."

"Shut up," she hissed, without much conviction, a visible shiver running through her. "I swear I’m going to kill you. The second we get home, you’re dead."

He slid an arm around her waist.

Partly to help her. Mostly because he loved watching her fight every step while pressed against him. Her hip was burning. Nash felt the tiny tremor in her lower belly every time the rabbit hit just right.

"You’re so wet," he murmured against the veil. "It’s running. That good?"

"Because you put both in, idiot." Her voice was annoyed and soft at the same time. She held him tighter. "The plug and that damn toy. My panties are ruined. And you’re talking to me about engineering."

"It is engineering," Nash said. "Look at the result."

Victoria swore through her teeth.

Another spasm folded her against him. Her fingers grabbed his jacket.

"You little genius. I hate you. Don’t let go."

He laughed quietly and pulled her closer.

"Come on. We’re going home. And I’m being nice. We’re taking the car."

"You better," she muttered against his shoulder. "Because I swear to God, Nash Blaze, if you make me walk another block like this... You just want to see me sit down, don’t you?"

Nash couldn’t help laughing.

The idea of her sitting down, plug buried, vibrator still going, dress stuck between her thighs, was way too good.

"Maybe."

"I swear I love you," she breathed. "And I’m going to make you pay for this."

They moved at a snail’s pace. They had parked the car very far away, so nobody would know they had come here. A good decision, but a decision that Victoria bitterly regretted having made herself.

Meanwhile, Flash was still standing there, planted in the middle of the room that was pretty much destroyed. He was alone now. Well, almost, because there were servers cleaning and tidying up around him, but they did it quietly, like he was invisible, transparent.

Right there. That’s exactly where she’d been standing.

He stared at the empty space, unable to move a single muscle. In his head, it was like a movie looping, the same scene, over and over.

Victoria had been there. Again, just like every other night back in the day, standing right next to him. Well, in his head, that’s how it went. To him, she was his given, her place was there, at his side.

But there, he’d clearly seen her give her attention to some kind of rat from the Underground. The guy was nothing, a real nobody, and yet Victoria talked to him like it didn’t matter at all, like she owed nobody anything.

Except that was wrong. She owed him everything. Him, Flash Goldust.

His fists clenched. How dare she? In his mind, they were together, had she forgotten that, the traitor? It had always been the case, even if it looked strange from the outside. It was like a cat-and-mouse game that had been dragging on for years. She played distant, played hard to get, and he’d been there, patient, trying to win her over without ever giving up.

He remembered every look, every ambiguous smile. Not once, and he really meant not once, not one single goddamn time, had she said no. Not a real no, anyway. Never.

He stared at the scene, drumming his fingers nervously against his thigh. He didn’t get how she could act like she was free when they’d had this "thing" going on for so long. To him, it was a given. It was just a matter of time before she realized it was him, and only him.

Really, she’d never actually told him no. She’d just said "focus on your game," or "don’t waste my time," never "no." For Flash, there was a huge difference, and he figured any idiot would’ve understood that.

He remembered the time he’d spent a whole hour preparing his speech, and she’d cut him off with a single "Quiet." But hey, a word wasn’t a wall, it was just a door left ajar. She was just testing him. Flash knew all women at her level did that. Honestly, it was even flattering.

And after the win? When she’d put him in his place in front of the whole team? To him, it was simple: he just hadn’t won enough yet. He hadn’t finished proving he was the best. Deep down, it was his fault, not hers. He just needed more trophies, more money, needed people to shake when he walked into a room.

And look at everything he’d managed to build! The guy had more cash than half the Underground, easily. He had insane contracts nobody else could land, and girls who’d do anything just for him to glance their way. And yet she, the only one he actually wanted, she still hesitated, like he hadn’t already earned it a hundred times over.

That wasn’t how it worked, he told himself. When you’re at his level, you take what you want. That was the rule, the only one that mattered. Even the rats from the Underground got that, so why her, why did she specifically have to be different?

She was his. She always had been. Every record broken, every time the crowd screamed his name in the Upperworld, that was for her, even if she wasn’t watching. To Flash, that wasn’t a failure, it was just an "investment" that hadn’t paid off yet. That was patience, that was.

But tonight, there was that hand.

That bum’s hand on hers. A nobody who’d never built anything, never earned anything, some guy who showed up out of nowhere and got to touch what Flash had never been allowed to touch, despite all the years he’d busted his ass for it.

No. No no no. It wasn’t possible. There had to be a mistake somewhere. A guy like him, with all his power and worth, didn’t get denied anything.

Ver, first name Ne.

It didn’t exist.

It was physically impossible for it to happen this way. Impossible for the other guy to be the one walking off with her.

And then, there was that other hand, later, sliding over her hips, over her ass... right in front of him. On purpose.

God, the bastard had actually dared, and the bitch had let him.

A small laugh escaped him.

There was a correction to make. That was all. The world had glitched, and since nobody else was going to fix the mistake, he’d do it himself. He was going to take back what belonged to him. It had always been meant to be him. Always.

"I’m gonna destroy you," he muttered. "Blood Star or not, I’m gonna destroy you."