Failure.

The subway car rattled as you and Liam sat in a heavy, uncomfortable silence. The quiet hum of the train and the occasional chatter of other passengers only amplified the weight of your frustration. Another event, another complete failure. You rested your head against the window, watching the dark tunnels rush past, your reflection faintly visible.

You’d spent the past week meticulously researching, preparing, and strategizing. Liam had found out about a private art showcase—a fundraiser for a prestigious cultural initiative where high-profile guests like Richard Solano and Damian Kane were expected to make appearances. It had seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally make progress.

Except neither of them showed up.

Instead, you had spent most of the night stuck with Vincent, the only reason you even managed to get in. The memory of his smirking face as he pulled you aside for a “private moment” made your stomach churn.

The last week had been a mess.

Between researching Solano’s connections, keeping up with coursework, and trying to keep your head above water, everything felt like it was slipping through your fingers. School had become a secondary concern; you barely managed to scrape by on assignments and quizzes. The oral fixation remained an ever-present torment, making focus nearly impossible.

At the event, you’d caught yourself sucking on the flimsy plastic straws from your cocktails, **** for something to alleviate the gnawing need. Even now, your lips tingled with the memory, a constant reminder of the curse’s humiliating hold over you.

And then there was the other part. The part you didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. It had been weeks since you’d used the dildo Liam had bought you, and the struggle to resist was becoming unbearable. Your body ached with pent-up frustration, every brush of fabric or stray thought feeling like a spark against dry tinder.

You’d even noticed it affecting your demeanor, making you more irritable and short-tempered. Twice this week, you and Liam had gone through your arrangement, and each time, the looming specter of Aphrodite’s threat lingered.

Liam had been understanding, never pushing you beyond what you were comfortable with. But that only made it worse. His patience and kindness made you feel guilty, like you were holding back when you shouldn’t be. Still, the idea of taking that step voluntarily was too much.

Your jaw tightened as you thought back to the art showcase. Seeing Vincent again had been an unfortunate necessity. The man had connections, and you needed him to get access to these kinds of events. It had taken all your willpower to play along, cozying up to him with flirtatious smiles and light touches just to secure your invitation.

But of course, Vincent couldn’t resist pushing his advantage. At one point, he’d pulled you aside to an alcove, his hands gripping your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours. You’d had **** but to let it happen, knowing you might need him again.

The memory made you clench your fists. The lingering taste of his cologne and the smug look in his eyes felt like salt in the wound.

“Another waste of time,” you muttered, breaking the silence.

Liam glanced at you, his expression heavy with disappointment. “We did what we could. It’s not like we could have predicted they wouldn’t show up.”

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “That’s not the point, Liam. We’re getting nowhere. Every time we think we have an angle, it falls apart. And now we’ve got Aphrodite breathing down our necks, waiting for us to fail again.”

Liam leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not wrong, but getting mad about it won’t help.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You wanted to argue, to yell, but you didn’t have the energy. Instead, you looked away, your gaze fixed on the floor.

“She’s going to punish me,” you said quietly. “She’ll come back, and she’ll... do something. I can feel it.”

Liam hesitated, then reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

You nodded, though his reassurance did little to ease the weight in your chest.

As the train pulled into your stop, you stood and followed Liam onto the platform. The cool night air hit your face as you emerged from the station, but it did nothing to clear your mind.

You were running out of time, running out of options. And with every passing day, the curse seemed to tighten its grip, pulling you closer to a breaking point.

The crisp night air filled the streets as you and Liam exited the subway station, the sharp click-clack of your heels echoing against the pavement. Every step seemed to punctuate your frustration, the sound drilling into your already frayed nerves.

You tugged your lightweight beige trench coat closer around you, its fabric barely shielding you from the breeze. Underneath, you wore a sleek black cocktail dress—a versatile outfit that balanced elegance with practicality for events like tonight. The dress hugged your curves snugly, accentuating the soft, feminine lines that had become impossible to hide. A pair of sheer black stockings covered your legs, their delicate shimmer catching the occasional glow of streetlights.

Beneath the dress, you’d gone with a simple yet supportive black push-up bra and matching panties, both trimmed with lace—a **** nod to comfort and confidence. On your feet were your trusty black stiletto heels with ankle straps, which added just enough height to match the event's formality.

Your makeup had been carefully applied earlier in the evening: a sultry, smoky eye with shades of charcoal and bronze, paired with a soft pink blush that added warmth to your cheeks. A swipe of nude gloss on your lips completed the look, bold yet refined. But now, after hours of frustration and failure, you felt less like the confident person who had applied it and more like someone spiraling into despair.

As the two of you walked in tense silence, Liam finally broke it. “I know tonight didn’t go how we wanted, but you’ve got to let it go. Getting worked up about it isn’t going to help.”

You spun around, your heels grinding against the pavement. “Let it go? Are you serious, Liam? Do you have any idea how much we’ve lost tonight? How much time, effort, and dignity I’ve poured into this entire mess?”

“I know, I know,” Liam said, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “But this isn’t the end. We’ll regroup and figure out the next move, like we always do.”

“Always do?” you snapped. “We’ve done nothing but fail, Liam! Every single plan falls apart, and I’m the one stuck carrying the weight of this—this curse! Meanwhile, you get to play the supportive best friend without a care in the world!”

Liam stopped in his tracks, his jaw tightening. “That’s not fair. You know damn well I’m trying to help you in every way I can.”

“Oh, yeah?” you shot back, your voice rising. “Like what? Dipping into your savings to pay for all these stupid dresses and shoes I didn’t even want in the first place? Or sitting around while I humiliate myself in front of sleazy guys like Vincent, pretending I’m enjoying it?”

His eyes narrowed, and for once, his tone turned sharp. “I didn’t have to help you, you know. I could’ve walked away and left you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t. I’m here because I care about you, even when you’re acting like this.”

“That’s rich,” you spat, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt. “You’re here because Aphrodite roped you into it. You’re here because I have to jerk you off like some twisted consolation prize, not because you actually care!”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it!” Liam snapped, his voice louder than you’d ever heard it. “You think I want this? That I enjoy watching you unravel while some goddess messes with your life? I’m doing everything I can to keep you sane, and all you do is throw it back in my face!”

The argument spiraled from there, each of you throwing accusations and frustrations at the other.

“Do you have any idea how humiliating it is?” you cried, your voice cracking. “To feel your body betraying you every day? To crave things you never even wanted before, to look in the mirror and see—see this?” You gestured angrily at yourself, your words tumbling out in a flood. “I don’t even know who I am anymore, Liam. I’m not me. I’m just some... some toy for Aphrodite to play with!”

“And you think it’s easy for me to watch that happen to you?” Liam shot back. “I hate seeing you like this, but I can’t fix it! All I can do is be here, and apparently, that’s not enough for you!”

“It’s not!” you yelled, tears stinging your eyes. “Because no matter what you do, I’m the one who has to live with it! I’m the one who has to deal with the constant cravings, the humiliations, the—” You stopped yourself, clenching your fists as your voice broke.

Liam stared at you, his chest rising and falling with frustration. “You’re not alone in this,” he said quietly, his voice losing its edge but not its weight. “But if you keep pushing me away, you’re going to be.”

The words hung between you like a heavy curtain, suffocating and unyielding.

You reached the door to your dorm, both of you still seething, breaths labored from the heated argument. But as your hand moved to the doorknob, you both froze, memories of the last fight flashing vividly in your minds.

Aphrodite’s mocking smile. Her honeyed voice. The threats.

Neither of you said a word as you stepped inside, the tension lingering in the air like a storm cloud. For now, the argument was over, but the wounds it left behind would take much longer to heal.