LOGIN❤️ In The Devil's Heat ❤️
Talia finally stepped in. The bathroom looked like something out of a five-star hotel. Warm lights and beautiful cream walls. There were huge mirrors and gold designs everywhere. She locked the door behind her, sat on the closed toilet seat for a second, and let out the breath she’d been holding since he found her. She peeled off her wet clothes slowly. Her tank top clung to her like a second skin. Her shorts were heavy with rain. Her panties were cold and sticky. She dumped them all in a pile on the floor. The hot water felt like heaven on her skin. She stayed under it longer than necessary, letting the warmth crawl back into her bones. She washed her hair with something that smelled like honey and mint. She scrubbed her skin until she felt clean again. Even though she was still broke, at least now she is clean. When she finally stepped out, wrapped in a thick towel that smelled like fresh linen, she saw the clothes on the counter. A black oversized pajamas. They looked big and probably his. She hesitated again but wore them with nothing underneath it. She stepped out of the bathroom quietly and saw him waiting at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall like he’d been there for hours. “You clean up well,” he said without smiling. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “Come downstairs. Are you hungry?” Talia blinked. She hadn’t eaten since morning. Her stomach answered before she could. He heard it and smirked. The kitchen was even more beautiful than the bathroom. Steel appliances with marble counters. A huge island in the middle. He opened the fridge, pulled out a container of pasta, and slid it into the microwave. “You cook?” she asked quietly. “No I don't, my housekeeper does. She left for the weekend.” He leaned back on the counter, crossed his arms, and studied her. “You look like someone who hasn’t slept in a proper bed for weeks.” “I haven’t.” He nodded. “Boyfriend kicked you out?” “No boyfriend.” “Parents?” She looked down. “No one.” She didn't know him and didn't want to tell him about her pitiful life story in one meeting just because he was cooking for her. Dominic didn’t speak for a while. The microwave beeped. He handed her the food without a word, then poured her a glass of water. Talia ate like a starving dog while standing. She didn’t care if he was watching. She was too hungry to be embarrassed. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and said, “Thank you.” He poured himself another drink. “Come with me.” “Where?” “Somewhere more comfortable than the kitchen.” He led her into a sitting room that looked like it belonged in a magazine. There was a huge fireplace with a deep black couch. Tall windows with the rain still pouring outside. The lightning flashed, painting shadows across the room. He sat down as she stood awkwardly. “Sit down, Talia.” She did. They didn’t speak for a while. The fire crackled. She pulled the sleeves of the hoodie down over her hands. “Why are you helping me?” she asked finally. Dominic sipped his drink. “You looked like someone who’s had enough punishment for one night.” She nodded slowly. Then he turned and looked at her directly, and her heart skipped. “You’re not scared of me?” “I should be,” she admitted. He leaned forward. “But you’re not.” She shook her head. “I’ve met worse.” He gave a soft laugh. “Have you?” Then everything changed. His body leaned closer. Her heart pounded so loud, she was sure he could hear it. His fingers reached out and brushed a strand of wet hair from her face. She didn’t flinch or even move. “You’re beautiful when you’re wet,” he said, and his voice was so deep now, it felt like it wrapped around her throat. Talia couldn’t speak. She knows what he was getting at and was no fool, all men are the same, once they help you, they want your body in return. She should let him before he kills her. “I should throw you out,” he said. “But I don’t want to.” His hand was still on her face. Then it moved, down her neck, to her shoulder. Her skin lit up with heat and the cold was gone. She whispered, “Why don’t you?” He leaned in, his lips barely an inch from hers. “Because I want to see what you do next.” Talia’s breath caught in her throat. Maybe this is what he wants, a show of appreciation for his comfort. She made up her mind and leaned forward instead and kissed him. The moment their lips touched, something inside her woke up open. Her hands gripped his shirt tightly. His mouth moved over hers like he had been waiting all night, all year. His tongue slid between her lips, slow, deep, tasting her and claiming her. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap. She could feel his dick, hard and hot against her ass. She gasped into his mouth when he squeezed her thighs, dragging her closer. The fire burned behind them as the thunder rolled. Her hips moved on instinct. "Are you sure?" He asked. She nodded her head. Just for tonight and by the time he wakes she will be gone, that is if she survives the night with him. “Yes." she whispered. He growled low in his throat and lifted her in one smooth motion.Chapter 7:Perfectly Trained:The words slipped out before she could stop them. Vincent's eyes widened slightly, then he smiled. The type of smile that said he'd been waiting for her to realize what they both already knew."Is that so?""Don't let it go to your head.""Too late for that." He pulled her closer, kissing her hard and desperate. Like a man who'd just realized how close he'd come to losing something precious.When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Vincent's expression had gone cold and calculating. "Erikson made a mistake sending killers into my home. My sanctuary.""What are you going to do?""I'm going to remind him why people fear me." Vincent moved to a hidden panel in his wall, revealing an arsenal that made Raven's professional heart sing. "And you're going to help me do it."He handed her a rifle she recognized. Military grade, perfect balance, it was the type of weapon that could put a bullet through a dime at a thousand yards."Consider this your graduation e
Chapter 6: Mine To Protect (2): Three days later, Raven had settled into a routine. Mornings with Vincent, learning about his business empire. Afternoons training in his private gym, keeping her skills sharp. Evenings in his bed, discovering things about herself she'd never known existed. He took his time. She was starting to understand what he meant about purpose. Instead of random kills for strangers, he was teaching her to be strategic. To eliminate threats that actually mattered. To use her skills for something bigger than money. That morning started like any other. Vincent was on a conference call with associates in Tokyo while Raven practiced with throwing knives in his private range. The routine was comfortable, domestic almost. The first sign of trouble was Helen's scream. Raven dropped her knife and ran toward the sound, her bare feet silent on the marble floors. She found Helen in the kitchen, pressed against the wall with terror in her eyes. "Where is he?" a voice as
Chapter 5:Mine To Protect: That night, Raven found herself in Vincent's bedroom. It was not the guest room where she'd been staying, but his actual bedroom. It was darker than the rest of the penthouse, all black leather and steel, with windows that showed the city spread out like stars. "Nervous?" he asked, watching her take in the space. "Should I be?" "That depends on how quickly you learn." Vincent moved to a wall panel and touched something. The windows went opaque, blocking out the city lights. "Your first lesson is about trust. About letting someone else make the decisions." "Okay, so what kind of decisions?" Instead of answering, he walked to a chair positioned near the bed and sat down. "Come here." Raven hesitated. This felt different from their conversations. More intimate and more dangerous. "I said come here." His voice carried that edge of command that made her body respond before her mind could protest. She walked over to him, stopping just outside arm's reach
Chapter 4:A Weapon Claimed:"You're a weapon, little one. Beautifully crafted, perfectly balanced, absolutely lethal. But right now you're pointed in the wrong direction." He moved to a bar cart and poured himself whiskey from a crystal decanter. "I'm going to teach you to aim where I want you to.""And if I don't want to learn?""Then we go back downstairs and use the other classroom." His voice stayed calm, conversational, like they were discussing the weather. "But I don't think it will come to that. You're too intelligent to choose pain when pleasure is available."He set his glass down and moved toward her. She backed up until she hit the wall, cornered again. He placed his hands on either side of her head, caging her in."Tell me something," he said, his voice dropping low and intimate. "When you were on that rooftop, finger on the trigger, what did you feel?""Nothing. That's the whole point of being professional.""Liar." His thumb traced her lower lip, and she hated how her
Chapter 3:Lessons In Power:Raven woke up to soft knocking on the door. Her body was still on high alert, muscles coiled and ready to fight, but there was nowhere to run. The lock clicked open and Helen appeared with a breakfast tray."Good morning, dear. Mr. Kane thought you might be hungry."The smell hit Raven first. Fresh coffee, warm bread, something that made her stomach clench with hunger. She hadn't eaten much at dinner, too busy cataloging escape routes and weapons."He also left these for you." Helen set a small stack of books on the nightstand. "He thought you might be bored."After she left, Raven examined the books. Sun Tzu's Art of War. A biography of some ancient Roman general. Military strategy guides. All about warfare, tactics, the psychology of combat.He was studying her. Learning what she was.She dressed in the clothes he'd provided - dark jeans that fit like they were made for her and a soft sweater. Everything was perfect. Everything was a reminder that he con
Chapter 2:The Cage:Raven woke up warm.That was the first shock. She'd been cold and wet on that rooftop for six hours, and now she was lying on something soft, warm and expensive. On a bed with an expensive silk sheets against her skin.The second shock was that she wasn't dead.Her hands flew to check her body, cataloging damage and missing pieces. Still wearing her black cargo pants and tank top, but her boots were gone. Her jacket. Her knife belt. All seven of her weapons, from the Glock tucked against her ribs to the ceramic blade sewn into her waistband. Of course.They'd been thorough. Professional.The room was obscene in its luxury. King-sized bed with a dark wood frame that looked hand-carved. Polished concrete floors softened by thick Persian rugs that probably had their own insurance policies. One entire wall was floor-to-ceiling glass, showing the city spread out below like a carpet of diamonds.This was his building. Vincent Kane's penthouse.Raven was in the lair of t







