Chapter 4 : Burning Desire

Adrian

The mansion doors swung open with the kind of silence only fear creates. “Pakhan, she is here,” Damien said, the second my foot crossed the threshold. She was here. He did not need to ask who it was. He knew and I didn’t answer.

I didn’t need to.

My men in black suits lined the foyer like statues. Their heads bowed so low that their chins nearly touched their chests. Their guns tugged at their sides and their eyes on the marble floor.

They felt the storm rolling off me before I even spoke.

Damien fell into step behind me, quiet for once. He knew better than to push tonight. But he also knew not to say anything when Pakhan did not want to. The mansion was dead silent like always except for the echo of my footsteps. My steps were sharp, deliberate and each one announcing I was done playing games.

“She’s in your room- ” Damien started. Before he could inform me of something I already knew, I raised my palm without looking back. He stopped.

Smart man.

I climbed the stairs alone. My each step was measured, controlled. The railing was cool under my palm, grounding the rage that had been simmering since the club. 

Since her. Grace.

Her name alone made my blood heat in ways I hadn’t felt in years. Something I had never felt before …. In my whole life. 

Finally, reaching in front of my room, I pushed the double doors open. And there she was. Lyra. One of the women I fucked around with. 

She was sprawled across my black sheets like she owned them. Blonde hair fanned out on the pillow and her slender legs crossed at the ankle, wearing nothing but one of my white dress shirts. 

It was unbuttoned halfway and the fabric clung to her like a second skin. My gaze fell on her hardened nipples pressed against the thin material. She’d clearly planned this. Planned to tempt. Planned to be used.

“What are you doing here, Lyra?” My voice came out flat. Cold. I was in no mood to see her today. I felt … tired. Mentally exhausted after what happened in the club. She sat up slowly, smiling. It was that practiced, sultry smile she thought worked on me.

“I wanted to see you, Pakhan.” She murmured slowly, trying to sound naive and innocent that she clearly was not and it only made me roll my eyes.

She slowly stood up and let the shirt slip open further. Her movements were deliberate, slow unbuttoning and I watched as her fingers trailed down her stomach. She squeezed her breasts together like an offering, she wanted me to take. 

She bit her lower lip. Her eyes were hooded and she whimpered softly. “Please touch me, Pakhan. I missed you.” She moaned seductively. Her lashes batted as she tried to seduce me but nothing worked. 

Nothing.

Not a flicker. Not a spark.

I pushed my blazer off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. My cold eyes stared at her as her smile turned shy, hopeful. She started to slowly back up until her calves hit the mattress and then fell back gracefully. 

Falling back, she slowly lifted her legs and spread her legs wide, seductively. Her pussy was already ready. Wet. Glistening. Throbbing for me. 

I smirked slightly. She was a whore for me. Well, she always had been. Always willing to submit, to take whatever I gave, never daring to reach first. She was warned well. Smirking, I hovered over her and my palms braced on either side of her head. 

My eyes stared down at the body that used to be enough for release when the anger got too thick. But tonight… Tonight I saw someone else. Someone I could not get out of my mind … not anymore. 

Grace.

Those deep eyes that made me drown in them. Those soft innocent gaze. My eyes drifted to her soft milky, pale skin. Her wide and glistening tipsy eyes. The way she’d giggled and poked my chest like I was harmless.

The drunken hug, those frail arms around my neck and her face buried in my throat. Her tiny body trembling against mine like I was safe instead of death. I had never let anyone touch my thing without my permission let alone myself and she had kissed me hard.

I clenched my fists in the sheets so hard the fabric tore under my knuckles. All emotions clashed so suddenly that made me confuse, overwhelm and that too for the first fucking time. 

Lyra moaned beneath me, arching her back and she pressed her breasts toward me, her hips rolling in invitation. She was desperate, needy for me. For me to claim her, ruin her, rip her apart but I did not feel anything. 

“Pakhan—”

The sound grated.

I felt grace. I imagined her under me. Her innocent whimper when I kissed her, the way her nails had scraped lightly down my neck, the soft “kiss me” that had cracked something open inside me. Something burned inside of me. Something wild and violent.

Lyra reached up and her fingers brushed slightly against my chest but I caught her wrist before she could make contact. Hard. My grip was tight enough to make her wince in pain.

She froze. Coming back into reality, I shoved myself off the bed in one violent motion and gripped my hair in frustration. What was happening to me?  “Pakhan?” Confusion laced her voice. Hurt. 

I rubbed a hand over my face and once again dragged it through my hair, trying to shake the image of Grace clinging to me like I was her savior. Fuck- I could not shake her mind off of my mind. 

“Leave,” I growled. “And do not ever show your face in front of me again.” She sat up fast. “Pakhan, wait- I can- ” I turned and glanced at her.  One look and that was all it took.

Her breath hitched. She clearly did not expect such a thing but I saw fear flashed in her eyes- real fear.just in a moment, she scrambled off the bed and clutched the shirt closed, and fled without another word.

The door slammed behind her while I stood there. My chest  was heaving, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles bled white. I was losing my mind more like I had lost it. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and dialed Damien’s number. 

“Get my room clean,” I barked into it. “Change everything. Every fucking thing.” I did not want anything that was touched by someone else. I did not fucking anything that reminded me of anything but her. 

I didn’t wait for a reply. My breath ragged as my ached, burning with rage. I was going crazy thinking about her and could not help but think about those innocent eyes. Letting  out a deep breath, I walked out to the balcony.

As soon as I stepped out, the night air struck cold against my skin. I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and lit it with shaking fingers and inhaled deep. Whatever was happening with me was not normal. How could such a small little thing could mess me up in just hours. 

Smoke burned my lungs as I inhaled deeply. I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the darkness. I closed my eyes, trying to shake off every thought, everything that snatched my peace away but ,……. I saw her again.

Grace, drunk, giggling and fearless in the stupidest way. Touching me like I wasn’t poisonous. Clinging like I wasn’t the end of her world. How could she think of me like that? How- I slammed my palm over the railing. My jaw clenched.

“Grace,” I muttered to the empty night. I threw my head back slightly and looked at the dark sky. I exhaled through my throat and my voice came out rough, low, dangerous.

“You are going to pay for this mess.” The cigarette burned down to the filter between my fingers. And I smiled.

Slow. Wicked. Dark. Because payment was coming. And when I collected… She would never forget who she belonged to.