Chapter 182 Marked In Velvet

• The club was a storm of sound and decadence—gold light dripping down shadowed walls, bass thumping low enough to shake glasses on the bar, and laughter that carried the sharpness of knives. The air smelled like money and secrets, and in the center of it all, Ellerei walked in like she belonged to both.
• She was a vision of bruised beauty. The black velvet dress clung to her like it had been sewn with her in mind, the slit running high enough to give a flash of muscle and danger with every step. The marks on her skin weren’t concealed. They were displayed—proof of survival. Around her neck, the new collar gleamed under the lights, Donatello’s name etched in metallic silver like a claim. His claim. And though he wore that fact like a crown, she wore it like a dagger, daring anyone to think she was owned.
• Heads turned. Men stared. Women looked twice. She didn’t acknowledge any of it. Her stride was unhurried, her chin lifted, the perfect balance of allure and untouchable danger. Tonight, she was the heiress—a woman of wealth, poise, and a whisper of violence.