Novels by Chi chi

Chapter 15: RAVEN’S POV:I woke up inside the cage of Damien’s arm.His forearm was heavy across my waist, fingers splayed low on my stomach, warm seeping through his body to mine. His chest rose and fell slowly against my back, breath stirring the short hairs at my nape. For the first time in years I didn’t jolt awake. I just… existed there. My skin feeling the warmth of a man in years, and our heartbeat, beating in sync.The quiet was so complete I could hear the faint tick of the old radiator in the corner and the distant rumble of a truck on an expressway.I should have shoved him off, should have reminded myself who he was, what he did, why I still kept the knife under the pillow. But I didn’t. I let myself feel the weight of him for exactly seven seconds.Then my phone buzzed on the nightstand.One sharp vibration. Then another.I reached for it without untangling myself and the screen lit up. An unknown number.Six words glowed brightly on the phone screen, and then a vide

Chapter 14CLARISSA’S POV:The rain hasn’t stopped since yesterday. It drums on the roof of the car like it’s trying to drown out my thoughts, but i didn't mind, as the noise matches the static in my head.I sat in the back seat, legs crossed, staring at the address glowing on my phone screen. A run-down apartment block in the industrial district’s ass-end, peeling paint, barred windows, the kind of place where people pay cash and never give their real names. Raven lives here?After all the money she makes at the club she chose to live in this hell hole.Everything about that bitch pisses me off.My assassin, the strange man i hired to trail Raven, the man that barely talks, sits behind the wheel. He hasn’t spoken since we left my building an hour ago. He doesn’t need to.“Stay in the car,” I tell him. “I won’t be long.”He glances at me in the rearview mirror. One eyebrow lifts. “You sure?”“I’m sure.”I step out into the downpour. No umbrella. I want to feel the cold. Want it t

Chapter 13DAMIEN’S POV:The safehouse feels smaller every time she walks into the room. The single bulb overhead buzzes like it’s on its last breath, throwing long shadows across the concrete walls. Rain taps the tiny window high up like impatient fingers.Raven stands by the metal table, sorting through the med kit she dragged in earlier. She’s still in the black tactical pants and long-sleeve shirt, but she’s unzipped the vest halfway. I can see the black sports bra underneath, the way it hugs the swell of her breasts, the faint sheen of sweat in the hollow of her throat.I haven’t taken my eyes off her since she came back downstairs.She feels it. I know she does. Every time she glances over, our gazes lock for half a second longer than they should.I pushed off the duvet, my ribs protested, but the pain is distant now, drowned out by something hotter.“Raven.”Her hands still on the gauze she’s rolling.I cross the room in four steps. She doesn’t back up, but her shoulders tense

Chapter 12OSCAR’S POVI was still sulking over my loss, when the door bangs open.Three of my men stumble in like they already know they’re walking to their own funerals. Rain clings to their coats, but the sweat on their faces is all fear. I don’t look up from the whiskey glass I’m rolling between my fingers. The liquid catches the single lamp and throws jagged light across the room.“Talk,” I say.Marco, the loudmouth, clears his throat like it’s full of gravel. “Boss… Damien’s gone, like he just evaporated.The second guy tries to help. “We swept cameras, alleys, everything, still no sign of him.The kid, twenty-five, says nothing. Smartest thing he’s done all night.My thumb stops circling the rim of the glass.I reach into the drawer, slow, the Glock comes out smooth and cool. I don’t even stand up.First shot takes Marco through the forehead. His head snaps back, his brain contents hits the wall like wet paint before his knees buckle.Second guy opens his mouth to scream.

Chapter 11: DAMIEN’S POVPain yanked me back to consciousness like a chain wrapped around my ribs.For one merciful heartbeat everything was numb, body, mind, the world reduced to a dull gray hum. Then reality slammed into me: fire in my left shoulder, ribs screaming with every shallow breath, the metallic taste of old blood coating my tongue, the cold bite of concrete under my back. I was lying down, no longer on the iron chair, but on a bed.I forced my eyes open.The room was dim, lit only by a single bare bulb hanging from a frayed cord in the ceiling. Dust motes drifted in the weak yellow beam. Concrete walls, peeling paint the color of old bruises, a cracked window boarded from the inside with plywood and nails. The air smelled of mildew, rust, old furniture, and something sharper, blood, definitely mine. This was not my penthouse, not a hospital, not even the concrete basement where I’d last remembered fists, batons, mocking laughter, I was still alive.The thought hit ha

Chapter 10:OSCAR'S POV:The red lighting in Darkar pulsed like a heartbeat, casting long shadows across the velvet walls of my private suite. The air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke, and the faint musk of sex from the girls in the clubhouse below. I leaned back on the leather couch, legs spread, one arm draped over the shoulder of ruby, one of the girls that worked at the club houseShe sat beside me fumbling with my buttons as I maintained an eye level with the much older woman sitting opposite me. The woman had a long dark wavey hair, and deep green eyes just like the ocean.Ruby's body pressed against mine in a way that was all performance. Asides Raven, Ruby was my best girl.She was a perfect distraction, a warm body to celebrate with.My thoughts ran back to Damien Blackwood. The untouchable CEO, the man who thought he owned Manhattan. Captured like a rat in a trap by me.The ambush had been perfect, and my men had hauled him out of the wreckage, unconscious, and now