CHAPTER 15

Lia’s POV

I gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened.

"Don't you ever—ever—question me," he hissed, his face inches from mine now. "Do you understand? You do what I fucking tell you to do."

"Let go," I said, my voice small now, the anger completely gone and replaced with something that felt uncomfortably close to fear. "Rob, you're hurting me."

He held on for one more second—just long enough to make his point—then released me with a rough shove that made me stumble backward.

I caught myself against the arm of a chair, my hand immediately going to my arm where he'd grabbed me. It throbbed. I could already feel it starting to bruise.

Rob smoothed down the front of his shirt like nothing had happened. His expression was cold and blank again, all that dangerous anger tucked back behind his usual mask of indifference.

"I'm going to be busy all day," he said, his tone conversational now, like we were discussing the weather. "I don't want you bothering me. Don't follow me around. Don't come looking for me. And for fuck's sake, don't start nagging."

I stared at him, my throat tight, my arm still throbbing.

He waited, expectant.

"Okay," I whispered. "Fine."

"Good," he said simply.

Then he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there alone, shaking, my arm aching, my eyes burning with tears I refused to let fall.

I don't know how long I stood there after he left. Long enough for my breathing to even out. Long enough for the shaking to mostly stop. Long enough to convince myself I was fine, this was fine, everything was fine.

Then I left the room and made my way back upstairs.

The hallway was empty and quiet. I passed Dante's painting without looking at it and slipped into my room, closing the door behind me and leaning against it.

My arm hurt. I pulled up the sleeve of my dress and looked at it. Sure enough, there were red marks already darkening into purple—four clear finger-shaped bruises where Rob had grabbed me.

I pulled the sleeve back down quickly, like covering them would make them not real.

Then I crossed to the bed and lay down on top of the covers without bothering to change or take off my sandals. I just lay there staring at the ceiling, feeling hollow and exhausted and completely drained.

I pulled out my phone from where I'd left it on the nightstand and opened I*******m. Started scrolling mindlessly through other people's lives. Happy couples on vacation. Engagement photos. Someone's perfectly plated brunch. A sunset. A puppy.

Normal things. Things that felt like they existed in a completely different universe from the one I was currently trapped in.

My eyes grew heavy as I scrolled. The emotional exhaustion of the morning—of the entire past twenty-four hours—was catching up with me all at once, pulling at me like weights tied to my limbs.

I told myself I'd just rest for a minute. Just close my eyes for a second.

Sleep took me under before I could finish the thought.

The dream started the same way it always did.

The door creaking open slowly. Heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. The shadow of a man filling the doorway, blocking out the moonlight.

But this time, something was different.

This time, there were two of them.

Two tall figures moving through the darkness toward my bed. Two sets of footsteps, one slightly heavier than the other. Two bodies that filled the room with heat and presence and something that made my heart race even in sleep.

I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. My body was frozen in place, pinned to the bed by something invisible, something that felt like anticipation and fear mixed together into one overwhelming feeling.

The mattress dipped on both sides as they climbed onto the bed. One on my right. One on my left. Surrounding me. Trapping me between them.

Then the hands came.

Four hands instead of two. Touching me everywhere at once. Sliding up my thighs, pushing them apart with firm, unhurried pressure. Running over my stomach, my ribs, my breasts. One hand wrapped around my throat—not squeezing, just holding, claiming. Another hand moved lower, between my legs, finding the heat there.

My skin came alive under their touch. Every nerve ending sparked and burned. My body arched up off the bed without my permission, desperate for more, needing more, aching with a hunger I couldn't control.

The hand on my throat tightened slightly. Just enough to make breathing harder. Just enough to remind me I was completely at their mercy.

The hand between my legs pushed aside the thin fabric of my underwear and touched me directly. Found me wet and ready and throbbing. I tried to gasp but the hand on my throat held me still.

I could feel them both leaning over me now, their breath hot against my skin. One kissed my neck, teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive spot below my ear. The other pressed his mouth to my collarbone, my chest, moving lower.

The shadows finally pulled back from their faces.

And I saw them clearly.

Victor. His silver hair catching the moonlight, those piercing blue eyes dark with hunger as he looked down at me. His large hand wrapped around my throat, his thumb pressing against my pulse point.

Dante. His dark eyes nearly black in the dim light, intense and focused entirely on me. His hand between my legs, fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles that made my whole body shake.

Shock slammed through me. Cold and jarring and wrong.

This was wrong. This was so wrong.

But my body didn't care. My body wanted more.

Victor's free hand moved to my breast, squeezing roughly. Dante's fingers pushed inside me, stretching me, filling me. I tried to speak, to say something—anything—but no sound would come out.

They worked together in perfect synchronization. Victor's hand tightening and releasing on my throat in rhythm with Dante's fingers moving inside me. Building pressure. Building heat. Taking me higher and higher until I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except feel.

"That's it," Victor's deep voice rumbled against my ear. "Let go."

Dante's thumb found my clit and pressed down hard.

Everything inside me shattered—