Chapter 3 003

Rayna

The Orpheus Hotel didn’t look like much from the street. At least, not compared to the stories I’d heard whispered about it. The stone facade was weathered, with ivy crawling up the sides. It was the kind of place rich tourists might glance at once before moving on to something brighter, but that was the trick, wasn’t it? To hide luxury in plain sight, but luxury wasn't the only thing the building was hiding, and only the real ones knew the truth.

I stood across the street for a long time, my hands buried in my jacket pockets, the invitation card burning against my palm. For some strange reason, I wasn't worried about the fact that the street was deserted and I could easily get mugged, or killed

I told myself that was the charm of this entire mission.

Midnight. I was right on time. I just hadn’t decided if I was brave or suicidal yet.

“Move it, sweetheart,” a man muttered as he brushed past me. He reeked of cigars and arrogance, dressed in a tux that looked poured onto his bulk. He didn’t glance twice before striding straight to the entrance.

The glass doors slid open for him without a touch.

"This is it.'I exhaled slowly. “Well, Rayna. You came this far, might as well go in”

I crossed the street and approached. The doors parted again, silent, as if they’d been waiting just for me, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. The mere sight of it sent chills down my spine, but I shook them off immediately.

The lobby smelled of roses and money. High ceilings stretched above me, chandeliers dripping crystal. Every surface gleamed—marble floors, polished gold accents, with velvet chairs where no one sat. It was too pristine, too silent, a d those were definitely not a good combination.

I was still taking it all in when a man in a black suit stepped forward. He was tall, broad, face expressionless. His eyes flicked over me once, sharp as a blade.

“Name?” His voice was low, professional.

"Here." I held up the invitation card with a flourish, like I actually belonged here.“Rayna Vale.”

He took the card, scanned it like it might detonate, then handed it back. “You’re late.”

“I’m on time,” I shot back.

His lips curved, almost a smirk. “For the Hotel, yes. For the Game… we begin earlier.”

I swallowed my retort and let him lead me deeper inside. The sound of my boots echoed against the marble until he stopped at a set of gilded elevator doors. Without touching anything, he murmured, “Seventh floor.”

The elevator chimed and opened on its own.

“Do I get a room key or something?” I asked, stepping inside. "How do I get in?"

He didn’t answer. Just stared until the doors shut between us.

The ride was too smooth, too quiet, almost as if I was floating. My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored walls—sharp cheekbones, tired eyes, dark hair pulled back too tightly. I didn’t look like a woman stepping into luxury. I looked like someone walking into a trap, and my dress wasn't helping the way I thought it would .

The doors slid open onto a hallway that didn’t belong in a hotel at all. No carpet, no numbers. Just black walls lined with sconces glowing dim red, leading to a single set of double doors at the end.

A woman waited there, draped in crimson silk. Her face was hidden by a half-mask of black lace, lips painted the same red as her dress. She smiled when she saw me, and the smile was beautiful but empty.

“Miss Vale, you finally came,” she said warmly, though her eyes stayed unreadable. I stared at her hoping to get anything I could from her, but it was impossible. . “We’ve been expecting you.”

I tightened my grip on the card. “That seems to be the theme tonight.”

Her laugh tinkled like glass. “Follow me.”

When she pushed the double doors open, my breath caught.

The Seduction House.

It wasn’t a house at all but an underground palace. A staircase led down into a cavernous room, chandeliers swaying above velvet lounges, gold-trimmed tables, and walls lined with mirrors that seemed to tilt and watch. Men and women in silks and masks drifted like shadows, their laughter hushed, their movements too smooth to be natural.

The air smelled of perfume and smoke, roses and danger.

“You like it?” the masked woman asked, watching my face.

“It’s… something,” I admitted

“This is the Garden,” she explained. “The players gather here before the Games begin. You’ll find food, drink, anything to soothe your nerves. But don’t mistake this for safety. The walls have ears.”

I glanced at one of the mirrors. For a split second, I thought I saw an eye blinking behind it.

“Comforting,” I muttered.

She gestured toward a velvet chaise. “Wait here. You’ll be summoned soon.”

“Summoned?”

Her smile didn’t change. “The Game waits for no one.”

And then she drifted away, leaving me standing awkwardly in a room filled with predators.

A man in a wolf mask raised a glass to me from across the lounge. His eyes lingered too long. Another woman whispered to her companion, both of them glancing my way.

I hated being stared at.

I sat, crossing my legs, trying to look more relaxed than I felt. My fingers drummed against my thigh until a voice broke through.

“First time?”

I turned. A man had appeared beside me, uninvited, wearing a silver half-mask that covered his eyes. His suit was perfectly tailored, his smile practiced.

“Does it show?” I asked dryly.

He chuckled. “Only to those who’ve been here before.”

“And you have?”

“Three times.” He sipped his drink, eyes glinting. “Though I doubt I’ll see thirty nights. Few do.”

“Why not?”

“Because Zero is here,” he said simply. There was something about the way he said it that just didn't sit right with me.

The name struck like a blade. My chest tightened. “You’ve seen him?”

“Seen?” The man laughed again, softer this time. “Everyone has seen him. Few have survived him.”

I leaned closer. “What do you mean?”

He tilted his head, studying me. “You don’t know who he is? Then you shouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe I like a challenge.”

His smile faltered. “Challenge is one thing. Suicide is another.”

Before I could answer, the masked woman in crimson returned. She didn’t look at the man, only me.

“Miss Vale. It’s time.”

My pulse kicked hard. I stood, legs steadier than I expected, and followed her through another set of doors.

The hall beyond was darker, lined with candles. The silence grew thicker, like the walls swallowed every sound.

At the end of the hall stood a final door. Black, carved with roses and thorns.

The woman stopped there and turned to me. “Thirty nights,” she said softly. “No more. No less. When the door closes, it will not open again until morning. Do you understand?”

I nodded once. My throat was too dry for words.

“Good.” Her smile sharpened. “Then meet your opponent.”

She pushed the door open, and cold air spilled out.

Inside, the room was vast and dimly lit, walls draped in velvet, a single chair in the center facing a bed that looked far too much like a throne. Shadows curled in every corner, heavy with expectation.

And there—already waiting—sat a man.

Black clothes. Tattoos peeking from his sleeves. Eyes like frozen glass.

Zero.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just stared at me like he could peel me apart without lifting a hand.

For the first time all night, I felt truly afraid.

The woman’s voice drifted behind me. “Remember, Miss Vale. Seduce him. Break his silence. Make him feel. Fail… and you’re his.”

The door slammed shut.

And I was locked inside with the monster everyone feared.