Dangerous Desire

The spotlight found Desiree as she strode to the front, her entrance met with a wave of applause. I knew her trick; she could charm anyone, a skill honed, no doubt, from her days as a high-end escort. Luring men to bed was one thing, but getting them to part with serious cash? That demanded a certain finesse I couldn't help but respect. A smirk played on my lips as I surveyed the room, the fools gaping at her with undisguised hunger, oblivious to the bomb about to drop. They expected a partnership announcement. Oh, if only I could savor each of their reactions individually. Tonight was going to be glorious.From my vantage point, I watched her ascend the podium, a laugh bubbling up at the eager faces below. A few "witches" beside me shot disapproving glances, no doubt itching to spread rumors about the "stone bitch" finally losing it. They could only hope.I shifted, antsy. Desiree, ever the dramatic one, would prolong the suspense with a long speech before the grand finale. Perfect.

The study was a void of inky blackness, a space that seemed to swallow light whole. At first glance, it seemed empty, until a closer inspection revealed a hulking armchair nestled by the fireplace. There, the dancing flames cast an eerie, flickering shadow on the wall – the indistinct outline of a figure seated within.A man slinked into the room, his weight shifting nervously from foot to foot, no doubt uneasy. He was a short, unremarkable man, and something about him screamed untrustworthiness. His eyes, small and beady, darted around, and his mouth was framed by thin lips above a patchy, desperate attempt at a moustache. It was less a beard and more a collection of stray hairs that had lost their way. The man's name was Tim. He squinted, trying to see past the flames and shadows and discern the person sitting on the chair."If you value your sight, I suggest you look elsewhere," a voice rasped, cutting through the silence and jolting Tim. It was a strange and jarring mix of static

Kade's POV “Well, that was certainly entertaining,” she said, voice dripping with an almost theatrical nonchalance. “He really does have a flair for the dramatic, doesn't he?” I stared at her, my mind reeling. There was no sign of distress, no anger, not even a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. Just unsettling amusement. “A performance?” I repeated, my voice tight. “Mona, he just accused you of… well, I don’t even know what he accused you of, but whatever it was he was clearly furious.” She shrugged, “Eh. Emilio is always furious, especially when he doesn’t get his way.” She takes a step closer, and the jasmine scent, mixed with something else—something warm and spicy—enveloped me. “Besides,” she continued, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur, “that's what happens when people can’t handle being played at their own game.” I blinked, stunned. “Played? What exactly did you do to him?” A mischievous glint appeared in her dark eyes. “Let’s just say I acquired a rat

The car screeched to a halt in front of Nok, a sleek, modern building that catered to the palates and discreet meetings of some of the world's most influential figures. As I stared up at the building, a surge of adrenaline rushed through me. I was meeting Kade without his knowledge…again! This time, however, not for pleasure. A knot tightened in my stomach at the thought of Kade, a familiar surge of anger battling with an unwelcome flicker of curiosity. Mostly anger, though. Pure, unadulterated fury at what he has done.Every part of me buzzed, an urging to lash out at everything and anyone, but I clamped down on the impulse. I had vented enough for today, in front of my employees no less. I couldn’t lose it in front of Kade too.There was no point in letting him know he'd succeeded in rattling me, a feat no one had managed to accomplish in years. I would first uncover his angle and then proceed from there. The elevator ride up to the sixth floor felt like I would be in there forever

The cafe I'm sitting in is definitely not where I expected to meet my… partner of sorts. The air is filled with a low, happy buzz – the clatter of ceramic mugs, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the murmur of distant conversations. It smelled of roasted coffee beans and something sweet, like cinnamon. My gaze drifts to the walls, plastered with whimsical illustrations of capybaras in various poses, some wearing tiny hats, others lounging in miniature pools. The workers even lean into the theme, sporting adorable variations of capybara ears clipped to their uniform caps. I've never met this guy but I would have thought that he would be the stuffy type that preferred quiet, and expensive restaurants. Not a struggling business that served latte with animal foam art.A man walks in and I sit up straight, my eyes narrowing, monitoring him as he goes to the counter. He's a little bit older than I assumed, early fifties give or take, with a round belly straining slightly against the butt