LOGINNEVEN'S POV
How dare he? Caesar’s hand rested low on her bare back, palm splayed, fingers brushing the dimples just above her ass, daring anyone, especially me, to look too long. His touch wasn’t subtle. It was a public claim. A silent, vicious message: This woman you threw away? I caught her. I fucked her and I kept her. He guided her through the storm of cameras like she was his queen, like this was their coronation. Jane walked, and every step beside him felt like a knife twisting deeper into my gut. Because she wasn’t just beautiful. She was his and I? I was the idiot at the top of the stairs. Drink forgotten. My mouth dry, watching the woman I loved walk in on my uncle’s arm… glowing with proof that he’d been inside her. Again. And again. And again. And from the way she smiled at me, slowly, knowing, devastatingly, she wanted me to see every mark. Every head turned. Every conversation died. Even the string quartet faltered for a heartbeat. The paparazzi went feral, lenses snapping toward the entrance. Sophia’s nails dug into my arm. “Who the hell is that with him?” she hissed, voice tight. She could barely see from the stairs, but I could. I didn’t answer. Hell, I didn’t even want her touching me. I wanted to shake her off, to snarl at her to shut the fuck up, because every word out of her mouth was just noise against the roaring in my ears. “Tell me, please. I could barely see her,” she persisted, her voice tight with urgency, pressing the question again as if sheer insistence might force an answer out of me. Her questions were getting under my skin, scraping at my nerves the same way the sight of Jane with my uncle was tearing me apart. I wanted to shove her away, to do anything that would pry her claws from my skin and silence the chaos clawing through my chest. Watching my uncle walk in with his hand on my ex-girlfriend’s ass like he owned every inch of her made my blood boil. He guided her through the wall of paparazzi, letting the world watch as he pressed her against him, possessive and bold. His men carved a path around them, but Caesar didn’t look rushed. Not even a little. And Jane? She looked so fucking calm to let another man touch her! I went cold. No. No fucking way. I was moving before my brain even caught up, down the stairs, pulse slamming hard enough to shake my ribs. I needed to see for myself. I needed to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating and wasn’t twisting shadows into her shape. I shoved through the crowd, chest tight, while Sophia scrambled after me, heels clacking like frantic punctuation. “Is that really your uncle… with a woman?” she whispered, disbelief lacing her voice. “Wait. Why does she look like Jane?” She kept murmuring behind me, each surprised question needling my spine and annoying the hell out of me. I didn’t answer. Didn’t look back. I didn't care because I already knew I had lost everything. Voices rippled through the hall as people stared after Caesar and the woman on his arm. “Who is she?” “Why is she with him?” “Keep it down before he snaps at you.” “I heard she’s his niece’s ex.” “No way, he’s never brought any woman out in public before.” “Shouldn’t her ex say something? Go claim her or something.” “He can’t. Look at them.” Every whisper stabbed deeper. Sophia clutched my sleeve. “You can prove it’s her, right? You can call her. Say her name. Something” I wanted to shake her off. I wanted to roar at everyone to shut the hell up. The noise around me felt like claws dragging down the inside of my skull. But I kept walking faster because of their entrance…Their entrance made the entire room choke and every step she took beside him was a slow, perfect fuck you aimed straight at my chest. Sophia nearly face-planted trying to keep up behind me, heels scraping, breath catching. But I saw everything and it was killing me. I shoved through the crowds toward them, trying to convince myself I was wrong, that it wasn’t her, that the light was tricking me, that my mind was playing games because I missed her too damn much but as I got closer, I managed to see her face. Her lips were soft, full, and swollen and her skin had that glow, not from makeup but the glow a woman has after being taken hard, thoroughly, repeatedly, and very recently. They looked like the perfect couple. Like royalty walking into a room full of peasants. The paparazzi exploded around them, crowding my path as flashes cracked like fireworks and voices shouted over one another, questions firing nonstop: “Is she your girlfriend, Mr. Calder?” “Who’s the mystery woman?” “Are you here because of your nephew’s scandal?” Caesar didn’t even spare them a glance. He just lifted two fingers, lazy, bored and his security parted the crowd like he owned the floor they walked on. Something inside me snapped clean in half. I shoved forward, rage and panic knotting in my chest. “Move, this is my engagement, get the hell out of my way!” I barked, pushing past shoulders and cameras. Olivia stumbled behind me, grabbing at my arm, breathless and shaking, but I barely noticed. I didn’t care. I didn’t hear her. All I could hear was my heartbeat pounding like a war drum. I pushed harder, elbowing through the crowd. “Move, I’m his nephew and this is my fucking engagement!” I snarled, forcing my way to the front. I was praying, actually praying, that maybe it wasn’t her and then the crowd shifted. And there she was. Jane, stunning enough to gut me where I stood. Her arm hooked through his like it belonged there. His hand resting on her lower back like he’d earned the right to touch her. Their bodies moving together with the ease of something intimate. Something real and it made my whole world tilted. So she hadn’t lied. She had slept with him. She’d gone to my uncle, my own uncle, and let him touch what used to be mine. My jaw clenched so hard something popped near my molars. Whore. The word burned through me like acid, hot and ugly. I pushed forward, Olivia scrambling behind me, but the paparazzi were everywhere, like a wall of bodies, cameras flashing, microphones swinging, and voices exploding around us. “Is she your girlfriend?” “Who is she to you, Mr. Calder?” “Why show up now?” “Is this connected to the company fight?” I lost it. “Move!!!” I snarled, shoving through shoulders, tripping over wires, and elbowing past anyone dumb enough to stand in front of me. Olivia tried to help, shouting at them to make space, but she was drowned out instantly. Caesar must’ve heard the chaos because he turned just slightly and scowled. That was all it took. His men shoved the cameras back like falling dominos, opening a clear path straight to him. He was hours late, but none of that mattered, not when Jane was there. Jane pressed tight against his side, soaking up every stare in the hall and proving with a single entrance that everything she’d told me was real. She’d replaced me effortlessly completely like I’d never existed. The audacity! I pushed through the open space, heart hammering, and finally stood right in front of them. Right in front of her. Jane Vera’s eyes found mine instantly and locked me in place. And then that smile returned, slow, sharp, and devastating. The kind of smile that could make a man drop to his knees… or throw a punch. The words left me before I could stop them. “You fucking whore.” Silence hit the hall like a lightning strike. The moment it came out, regret hit me hard, twisting in my gut but the damage was done. Her smile only sharpened. “You mean… aunty?” She purred, slow, taunting, and vicious-like my anger was a treat she was savoring. My vision blurred at the edges. I barked a bitter, ugly laugh. “In your dreams,” I spat. Then I turned my glare to Caesar. “Uncle, what the hell are you doing with her? I thought she was way out of your league.” Caesar didn’t even blink. He looked at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum, amused, patient, and cruel. His hand stayed on the bare small of Jane’s back, thumb brushing the skin I used to know. “Careful, nephew,” he said, voice cold and calm. “You’re talking about my woman.” My chest sank. My heart dropped.NEVEN'S POV How dare he? Caesar’s hand rested low on her bare back, palm splayed, fingers brushing the dimples just above her ass, daring anyone, especially me, to look too long. His touch wasn’t subtle. It was a public claim. A silent, vicious message: This woman you threw away? I caught her. I fucked her and I kept her. He guided her through the storm of cameras like she was his queen, like this was their coronation. Jane walked, and every step beside him felt like a knife twisting deeper into my gut. Because she wasn’t just beautiful. She was his and I? I was the idiot at the top of the stairs. Drink forgotten. My mouth dry, watching the woman I loved walk in on my uncle’s arm… glowing with proof that he’d been inside her. Again. And again. And again. And from the way she smiled at me, slowly, knowing, devastatingly, she wanted me to see every mark. Every head turned. Every conversation died. Even the string quartet faltered for a heartbeat. The paparazzi went fera
CEASAR'S POV Vera's breath hitched, sharp and audible in the quiet cabin. She obeyed instantly, without question, without hesitation. The silk parted like water as her thighs fell open on the leather seat, knees trembling, exposing everything, her swollen, flushed pussy lips still puffy and glistening from earlier, the slick mess of her arousal smeared across her skin. Another slow bead of her own wetness slipped free right in front of my eyes, rolling lazily down her inner thigh like a confession. I haven’t even touched her yet. Just looked and let her feel my stare like a brand burning straight between her legs. “That’s it,” I murmured, thumb still tracing the bite on her shoulder, slow and possessive. “Show me what’s mine.” She shifted slightly, thighs spreading wider, hips tilting up just enough to give me the perfect view of her ruined, dripping cunt still open from my cock, still pulsing, still begging. I slid one hand up the inside of her leg slowly, fingertips dragging
CEASAR'S POV The horn blared from outside sharply, impatient, long and insistent, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. My driver kept pressing the horn as a reminder that we were late. My jaw clenched so hard it ached. Of all the fucking timing. That stupid driver had to remind me we were late. I snarled, buried to the hilt, grinding deep, cock throbbing inside her like a second heartbeat, balls drawn so tight they ached, desperate to unload but I take too damn long to come when I’m this wound up, when I’m this lost in her, when every nerve is on fire and the need to ruin her is stronger than the need to breathe. “Motherfucker,” I growled through clenched teeth. I pulled back slowly, letting her feel every inch drag through her ruined walls, then slammed in once more hard enough to lift her clean off her feet, grinding deep, hips rolling, trying to force it, trying to spill inside her right then and there, flooding her until she overflowed. Still nothing. With a guttural,
JaneVera’s POV I swallowed hard, throat tight, pride crumbling like ash. “I’m not…” The lie died the instant his thick finger slid between my soaked folds, slick with my own shame, smearing my dripping arousal over every swollen inch of my cunt. “Then tell me,” he murmured, voice low and molten, “why are you this fucking wet, little flame? Dripping down my hand, soaking my thigh… don’t you dare lie to me again.” My lips parted on a shattered breath. My nails clawed into the couch as he pressed that finger deeper, thrusting in and out with slow strokes that rubbed me raw, lighting every nerve on fire. My hips rolled shamelessly, chasing him, betraying me completely. “I… I can’t… I need you.” I finally whimpered, the confession cracking open, my body trembling so hard I thought I’d break apart. A low, filthy moan tore free. He chuckled, dark and hungry, the sound rumbling through his chest into mine. That wicked finger found my clit, swollen and throbbing, and dragged slow, laz
CEASAR'S POV Vera's breath hitched, sharp and audible in the quiet cabin. She obeyed instantly, without question, without hesitation. The silk parted like water as her thighs fell open on the leather seat, knees trembling, exposing everything, her swollen, flushed pussy lips still puffy and glistening from earlier, the slick mess of her arousal smeared across her skin. Another slow bead of her own wetness slipped free right in front of my eyes, rolling lazily down her inner thigh like a confession. I haven’t even touched her yet. Just looked and let her feel my stare like a brand burning straight between her legs. “That’s it,” I murmured, thumb still tracing the bite on her shoulder, slow and possessive. “Show me what’s mine.” She shifted slightly, thighs spreading wider, hips tilting up just enough to give me the perfect view of her ruined, dripping cunt still open from my cock, still pulsing, still begging. I slid one hand up the inside of her leg slowly, fingertips dragging
CEASAR'S POV The horn blared from outside sharply, impatient, long and insistent, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. My driver kept pressing the horn as a reminder that we were late. My jaw clenched so hard it ached. Of all the fucking timing. That stupid driver had to remind me we were late. I snarled, buried to the hilt, grinding deep, cock throbbing inside her like a second heartbeat, balls drawn so tight they ached, desperate to unload but I take too damn long to come when I’m this wound up, when I’m this lost in her, when every nerve is on fire and the need to ruin her is stronger than the need to breathe. “Motherfucker,” I growled through clenched teeth. I pulled back slowly, letting her feel every inch drag through her ruined walls, then slammed in once more hard enough to lift her clean off her feet, grinding deep, hips rolling, trying to force it, trying to spill inside her right then and there, flooding her until she overflowed. Still nothing. With a guttural,