LOGINThe library had gone quiet except for the sound of their breathing and the rain beginning to tap against the tall windows. Adriano's forehead rested against Anny's, his hands still cupping her face and for a long moment neither of them spoke. Then he pulled back and the tenderness in his expression hardened into something else.
"You need to tell me what he said to you," he said quietly. "Not what you t
The heavy oak doors of the study creaked open without warning. Anny’s heart skipped a beat as she turned, her eyes widening in shock. Michele stiffened instantly, his eyes narrowing as a muscle twitched in his jaw. The relaxed, predatory ease he had worn moments ago vanished, replaced by a coiled tension that made the air crackle.It was Adriano, standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim hallway light. His eyes were cold, sharp as ice and they were fixed solely on his twin brother.For a moment, no one moved. The study held its breath, the shadows lengthening across the walls as the door clicked shut behind him. He was still wearing the clothes from the holding facility, a plain grey shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, dark trousers that had seen better days. His hair was disheveled, his jaw shadowed with
The silence that followed Harris's question stretched like a wire pulled too tight. Anny sat across from him in the dining room, her coffee cold and forgotten, her hands folded on the table to keep them from shaking."Who?" she repeated.Harris didn't answer immediately. He reached into his folder and pulled out a single photograph, a grainy image pulled from a security camera. It showed a figure in a dark coat, hood up, moving toward a parked car in the dead of night. The same figure from the store footage. The same build. The same posture."We ran the partial plate from the ridge. It matched a vehicle registered to a shell company. The same shell company that purchased the tracking device and the same shell company that the burner phone was messaging."
The number stared back at her, unfamiliar and cold. Anny's thumb hovered over the message, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. The words burned into her mind, each syllable a fresh wound."The birthday trip is the perfect opportunity. We can take her on the road. No witnesses. No escape. Make sure Adriano plans it."Someone had planned this. Someone had known about the farmhouse before Adriano had even announced it. And the message had been sent to her. She read it again. Then a third time. Her hands were shaking so badly she nearly dropped the phone.‘Make sure Adriano plans it.’The implication was clear. Whoever had sent this message wanted Adriano to be the one to arrange the trip. They w
The mansion had never felt so quiet.It was the kind of silence that pressed against the walls, that filled the lungs like water, that made every creak of the old house sound like a gunshot. Anny sat alone in the study, the fire long since burned down to ash, the phone still warm in her hand from the call to Detective Harris. He had promised to be there within the hour. That had been forty-five minutes ago.She hadn't moved. The clock on the mantel ticked. The rain had started again, soft and steady against the windows and somewhere in the east wing, a door opened and closed. She didn't know which brother it was. She didn't care.The gates opened. Headlights swept the courtyard. Harris stepped out of his car with two officers behind him, his face set in the grim lines of a m
The farmhouse had been a dream, a perfect, suspended moment of peace that Anny had clung to like a life raft. But dreams always ended and this one ended the moment the sun set on the second day and the convoy of black SUVs lined up on the gravel drive to take them home.The drive back to the mansion started under a clear sky, the kind of night that made the valley look like a painting, moonlight silvering the fields, the road a dark ribbon winding through the hills.Anny sat in the passenger seat, her birthday notebook tucked into her bag, the taste of the farmhouse's celebratory dinner still lingering on her tongue and her body still warm from the fantasies.They had spent the whole day at the farmhouse with breakfast on the terrace, a walk through the orchards, dinne
The aftermath of the first fantasy left Anny in a state of suspended animation. She lay sprawled across the silk sheets, her body a map of the brothers' possessiveness, bruised hips, swollen lips and the heavy, warm sensation of their combined seed leaking slowly from her pussy and ass.The room was silent, save for the ragged synchronization of their breathing. The amber light of the lamps seemed to pulse, mirroring the throbbing heat still radiating from her core. She felt utterly conquered, a broken doll put back together by the very hands that had dismantled her.Adriano remained draped over her, his heavy chest pressing her into the mattress, while Michele leaned against her side, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw with a predatory slowness. The air was thick with the scent of musk, sex and the lingering sweetness of
Anny’s bedroom was bathed in the pale blue glow of moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. The air was thick with the scent of her arousal, a musky, sweet perfume that clung to her skin. She lay on the bed, still trembling from the aftershock
"Welcome home, Anny," Adriano murmured, his voice dripping with quiet arrogance as he brushed past her, the heat of his body lingering in the doorway like a taunt. His composure was infuriatingly intact, not a single hair out of place, not even a flicker of guilt in those dark, knowing eyes. Anny
"Thank you, Adriano, you mean."A seductive husky voice tore the silent air of the kitchen and the bowl slipped from her fingers before her brain registered the fear. Strawberries scattered across the dark marble floor like drops of blood, crushing beneath her bare heel as she spun toward the doorw
The call with her mother had barely ended before Anny hurled her phone onto the dorm bed as if the device had burned her. Her mother's voice still echoed in her ears, every syllable coiling low in her belly like something sick and twisting."Let me guess," Morgan said from her desk, spinning lazily







