Chapter 225

Elena couldn’t focus on anything. She was a mess.

She stared at the ceiling for a long time, her blankets tangled around her legs. Her skin still tingled where he’d touched her. And her heart? It felt like it had been torn open and stitched back together all wrong.

Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Ryan. His voice, his scent, the graze of his thumb along her throat. The way he’d looked at her like she was a temptation he couldn’t afford and yet couldn’t resist.

That night Elena barely slept and next day at school, everything felt like a blur.

The pages of her notebook remained blank as the teacher’s voice droned on at the front of the classroom. Her pen hovered over the lined paper, unmoving, her mind drifting far away from physics equations and bell curves. She was still caught in the gravity of last night.

Ryan’s words echoed through her head. “You break the rules, I break you.”

Her fingers trembled around her pen. She shouldn’t have liked that. She should have run far, far away. But instead, she was waiting.

She was halfway through her literature class when her phone buzzed. She hesitated. She shouldn’t have checked it. She knew that. But her fingers itched toward her bag like a reflex. She slid the phone out, angling it beneath the desk.

No text.

One picture.

Just a picture.

It took her brain a full second to process what she was seeing.

Her panties.

The ones she’d worn the night she met him first. The ones she’d forgotten there and didn’t even take them back when she went to take them back. Now they were balled up in Ryan’s hand. And he was sniffing them, his eyes locked onto the camera, dark with possession.

Elena nearly dropped the phone.

A violent shiver ran down her spine. Her thighs squeezed together beneath her pleated skirt instinctively. The air left her lungs in a shudder.

“El?” Avonlea whispered again. “What happened? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Elena’s hands flew to turn the screen off. Her heart thundered against her ribs like it was trying to escape. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Avonlea stared at her like she didn’t believe a single word. “You’re shaking.”

Elena gave a shaky smile. “Didn’t sleep much.”

Which was technically true. What she didn’t say was, I was up all night thinking about a man I shouldn’t want and dreaming about the filthy things he whispered into my skin.

Inside, she was burning. A flush spread down her neck. Her core pulsed, and it took every ounce of control not to press her thighs together and squirm.

Her phone buzzed again. Her eyes flicked back to the phone. She hesitated, then checked.

Ryan: Five o’clock. Same door. Don’t be late. 🔥

She swallowed hard. There was no question of whether she’d go. Her body answered before her mind even caught up.

Yes.

She would go.

. . . . . . . . . .

Ryan stared at the screen of his phone as the blue tick popped up. He smirked. He tossed his phone onto the desk, leaning back in his chair.

The penthouse was quiet, the city lights flickering beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Jade stood by the bar, pouring himself a drink. “You’re really doing this?”

Ryan didn’t look at him. “Yes.”

“She’s seventeen.”

“For two more months.”

Jade groaned. “You’re impossible.”

Ryan’s smile was razor-sharp. “I know.”

. . . . . . . . . .

The hours dragged. Each tick of the clock felt like a countdown to detonation. Elena couldn’t hear anyone. couldn’t see anything except flashes of white shirt sleeves, dark stubble, and wicked eyes filled with possession. When the final bell rang, Elena practically sprinted out of school.

The whole drive to the penthouse, Elena replayed the photo in her mind again and again. The way he held her underwear. The sin in his eyes. The raw possession. He was playing with her, she knew that. And she hated how much she liked it.

The lobby of his building was quiet. The doorman barely glanced up as she walked past, her heart pounding. When the elevator doors slid closed behind her, Elena braced herself against the mirrored wall and tried to breathe. It didn’t help.

Her fingers trembled as she fixed her uniform blazer, brushing invisible tint from her pleated skirt. By the time she stood in front of the penthouse door, her palms were sweaty and her knees were weak

She pressed the bell. When the doors opened, she was met not by Ryan, but by a butler dressed in black.

“Elena Carter?” he asked coolly.

She nodded.

“Mr. Johnson is expecting you. This way.”

Her cheeks burned. Of course he is.

He didn’t speak again as he led her down the long corridor, past the main living room and into a dimly lit study. The click of her shoes echoed on the marble as she followed him down the hall. Her heart pounded like a war drum in her ears.

Elena stared at the door, nerves swallowing her whole. She knocked once.

“Come in,” came the voice.

Deep. Calm. Dangerous.

She opened the door.

Ryan was leaning back in a leather chair, legs crossed at the ankle, a glass of something amber in his hand. He was dressed in black again, tailored pants and a button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up.

He didn’t rise when she entered. But his eyes swept over her slowly. From the tips of her shoes to the hem of her skirt, lingering just a second too long on her thighs.

“Close the door,” he said.

Elena’s fingers shook slightly as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.