"How did you do it Odette?" he asked again. Her lips parted as her heart pounded against her breast. What—" she gasped, her voice trembling. “What—?” He moved closer until there wasn't room between them. The warmth of his body pressed against hers, the scent of him—fogged in her mind. Then his mouth came down, his lips beside her ear, his breath on her skin searing. "Just how did you end my brother's life, Odette?”he breathed. Eighteen-year-old Odette Davenport was married to Salvatore Moretti, heir to a powerful empire. Five years later, Salvatore is murdered, and as his widow, Odette is the last person to see him alive. Nico Moretti, Salvatore's brother, returns home determined to uncover the truth. But as his investigation unfolds, Odette wrestles with guilt and a forbidden desire ignited by his presence. Every glance hides a secret, and every kiss could be their last. This is a dark, suspenseful tale of love, loyalty, and deception delves deep into the Moretti family's dark underbelly.
View MoreOdette stirred from her drowse, the pillow warm below her cheek. Her head throbbed faintly at the temples as she tried to lift her hand, scarcely moving the blanket beneath her. Her skin felt displeased and feverish. Slowly, she turned her head, her lashes dragging open to find herself quite in the familiar surroundings of her bedroom. The curtains were drawn. Groggily, she tried to move, but a searing pain extended outward from her body as she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. “Glad you’ve come back to us.” Startled Odette’s eyes moved slowly towards the voice. Odelyn. She was seated on the chair near the hearth, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “You caused a considerable stir, sister. Even summoned concern from Sir Moretti. quite the feat, that.” Odette blinked slowly, and swallowed, her throat bitter. "What…what happened?" "You fainted in the old garden," Odelyn replied simply, smoothing the skirt of her gown. "Sir Nico carried you in, and yelled for the maids
Nico had woken up at some wee morning hour, though he hadn’t slept well, for days now. Sleep had become some kind of myth lately, something his body pretended to do while his mind would roam in the dark, back to the study. To Odette. He ought to have been focusing on the case. On the folder locked away in his room, parked with Giancarlo's forensic overviews and tribunal-acceptable suspicions. On the evidence that Salvatore had been stabbed first, before even being shot, and that his murderer had likely dispatched him up close—intimately. In rage or terror. But instead— His thoughts, strayed elsewhere every night, every minute. To her. To the sound of her breathing. To the warmth of her skin against his. To the sweep of her waist, the soft flesh of her wrist. To something entirely and sinfully different. Making merciless love to her. God. She drove him mad without even trying to seduce him. And giving that he was not supposed to feel this way, or was not wo
A knock on her door was tempered, no louder than the rain on the windows, which started a few hours ago. Odette's brow creased into her pillow. The room was biting, the fire had long since gone out. She opened her eyes, slowly, her breath fogged in the darkness. Penelope, she thought, rising. Another knock came, then nothing. She moved across the floor, her palm against the door. Then opened the latch her breath caughting. Nico. Not her maid. What was he doing here? He stood in the doorway, soaked, his shirt plastering to every inch of his skin, his coat were open, water running down from his hair. His chest heaved once. And her gaze fall—to the faint outline of his abs under the wet clothes. His belt. His forearms. His knuckles which were curled white at his hips. She froze, her throat drying as she swallowed. "Nico—?" She murmured in a rasp. Her heart beat quickening. He looked at her like a man on the brink of madness. Her fists tightened into the doorframe
Odette’s blood ran cold. Her eyes whipped for the silhouette in the doorway, while still scandalously perched on the margin of her late husband's desk. Suzanna stood frozen—one of the oldest house keeper, her mouth slightly parted, her expression stricken her gaze fixed somewhere just over Odette’s thigh— refusing to see what might already be seared into her memory. She immediately averted her vision from Odette's positioning on the desk. "I beg your pardon, Sir Nico," she breathed, "I didn't realize the study was occupied." With that she redraw, the door shutting behind her. Silence closed in around the room. Odette remained paralyzed, unable to move. Her face burned with a heat that made her want to vanish into the floorboards. Her legs trembled fitfully as she tried to move against the desk, to modestly shut her knees properly, but the movement only tended to increase the burning pulsing low between her thighs. What in God's name was happening to me. She thought. Y
"You appear to be Odette Davenport" Nico replied his hands still fixed on hers. "Now answer me. How excertly did you end my brother's life." He growled. She shook her head, her lips trembling. "I— I—did—not do it." She breathed. Nico turned away from her, pacing, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides He stared blindly at the wall, then ran a hand over his hair. The words did not soothe him, more so. They fueled him. She looked… afraid. And that only cinched more suspicion around his ribcage. He had recited Giancarlo's words a dozen times at least by now, and yet they still sounded very much unreal. "Scratches Nico. On his torso. Deep. Defensive. And a stab wound— on the lower abdomen." "The bullets came after." "Your brother wasn't just shot. The shots came afterwards. Salvatore was stabbed first—possibly even killed that way." "There had been signs of intimacy too. I noticed it when I was doing the preliminary exam on Salvatore's body, moments befo
Three Penelope removed Odette's coat and began to undress her. Odette stood frozen, her loose arms at her sides. Her knees weak. For some very unusual reasons, her heart had not stopped racing. Not since Mr Moretti's corridor encounter. Not since Nico's arm went around her waist holding her in place against his chest. He'd touched her hardly at all. Only one hand. Only a few inches of closeness. And yet… Her body was still flamming from his touch, her thighs still squeezing tight in instinct. It was not something she'd ever felt before. The quick loop within her belly. That throbbed thoroughly somewhere below her hips, that had her shifting slightly on her feet now just to find some relief from this strange heat. "Ma'am?" Penelope's soft voice broke the silence. "Are you all right?" Odette nodded too quickly. "Yes. I'm— I'm—fine." She says her breath caught repeatedly. Penelope unfastened the back of her dress, as Odette remains perfectly still staring at the floor, disc
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