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This... us... it's complicated now.
تاريخ النشر:
2025-12-07 15:25:27
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His Dirty Little Secret Eyes on me.
Cassidy's POV The world fractured into light and sound. One second, I was standing in the half-built bones of my studio with rain tapping through the unfinished roof and Lucas Voss watching me like I was a piece on his board. The next— Glass burst somewhere to my left. A floodlight blew out overhead, showering sparks across raw wood and wet concrete. A gunshot cracked through the storm outside, sharp and violent enough to seem impossible inside a place that was supposed to one day hold canvases, books, and Lila’s sticky little fingerprints on the window seat. Dante’s hand hit my waist hard, decisive, all instinct and command, and the floor rushed up to meet me as he drove me down behind the unfinished frame of the window seat. “Down,” he barked. I was already moving. My knees hit wet concrete, one palm catching on damp sawdust, the other braced against the rough beam. Dante came down with me, not on top of me, not trapping—covering. His body angled between mine and the open s
His Dirty Little Secret Gunshot
Cassidy's POV The property looked different at night. Harder. Less like a dream and more like a skeleton. Floodlights cut across the rain in white blades, illuminating steel beams, unfinished walls, sheets of wet plastic snapping in the wind. The main structure stood dark and raw against the storm, all angles and shadows and potential. My studio. Our future. Turned into a stage. Dante killed the engine. For one second, neither of us moved. Then he looked at me. “This is the last easy second you get tonight.” I nodded. “Then let’s waste it properly.” His hand came up and framed my jaw, thumb brushing once across my cheekbone. The touch was brief. Intimate. A claim and a goodbye to softness, both. Then we stepped out into the rain. Cold struck instantly. My shoes sank slightly into wet gravel as we crossed toward the main entrance. Two plainclothes guards emerged from the shadows long enough to give Dante the briefest nod before disappearing again. Visible e
His Dirty Little Secret Dressing for War
Cassidy's POV By six-thirty, I was in the private bathroom attached to Dante’s office, staring at my reflection beneath harsh recessed lighting and trying to decide what armor looked like tonight. My workday blouse was gone, replaced by the black silk shell I kept in a garment bag for evening events that bled straight from the office into the kind of dinners where women were meant to look elegant and men were meant to underestimate them. I paired it with slim black trousers instead of a skirt—practical, clean, impossible to snag if I had to move fast. Minimal jewelry. No visible softness. My hair, usually pinned into a neat knot by this hour, I pulled back into a low, sleek tie at the nape of my neck. Efficient. Controlled. I stood there for a second too long, fingers resting lightly against the hidden collar beneath the silk. A private pulse. A secret anchor. Something that belonged to us no matter who was watching. The bathroom door opened behind me. I didn’t startle. I
His Dirty Little Secret The Hour Before Eight
Cassidy’s POVThe rest of the afternoon fractured into strategy.Not panic.Not chaos.Something sharper.Controlled violence wearing expensive clothes and speaking in measured tones.Adrian Kessler was taken downstairs to a secure holding room two floors beneath legal, where Reynolds’ people could keep him contained until Dante decided whether he was more useful breathing comfortably or sweating. Lucas’s note was photographed, bagged, analyzed, and then returned to Dante’s inside pocket like it belonged there—like the threat itself had become part of the architecture of his body.The studio sat between us all now.A location.A trap.A wound.A promise.By five o’clock, the executive floor had emptied enough to feel haunted. The storm outside had deepened into something darker, rain striking the windows with a steady, punishing rhythm that blurred the city into ghost-light and steel. The building no longer felt like a headquarters.It felt like a command center.Mia had relocated to
His Dirty Little Secret You’d be exposed.
Cassidy’s POV I looked up at him over my shoulder, his hand still curled around the back of my chair, his body a solid wall of heat and control behind me.“No.”The word came out sharper than I intended, but not sharp enough to be regret.Dante’s brows lowered slightly. “No?”“If we change everything now, whoever’s feeding him notices immediately.” I turned in the chair so I could face him fully, one hand still resting on the tablet balanced across my lap. “He’s studying patterns, yes—but that means he’s also watching for disruption. If my routine changes too fast, too cleanly, too obviously, then the person giving him access knows we’ve seen the line he’s drawing.”His jaw flexed once.I could see him following it already. The logic. The danger. The necessity.I pushed on before he could answer.“We don’t slam every door at once,” I said. “We let one stay open long enough to see who’s standing behind it.”Across the desk, Mia looked up from her laptop, eyes flicking between us. Reyn
His Dirty Little Secret The First Countermove
Cassidy's POV An hour later, the office no longer felt frozen. It felt armed. Quietly. Systematically. Security presence increased, but subtly. New faces appeared near the elevator banks in tailored civilian clothes instead of obvious uniforms. Temporary access was paused under the pretense of a routine systems recalibration. Vendor appointments were “rescheduled.” The service corridor Lucas had used was suddenly inaccessible due to a fabricated plumbing issue. No alarms. No spectacle. Just pressure applied inward. From my desk, I built patterns. Mia fed me visitor records. Reynolds’ team sent corridor access logs. IT sent metadata from delivery notifications and internal routing permissions. I lined it all up, stripping away noise until shapes began to emerge. Every move Lucas had made touched one common thread. Not Dante’s calendar. Mine. Flower delivery window aligned with my morning coffee run. The black box appeared in the six-minute interval betwee
His Dirty Little Secret Makes me want to rip it off.
Cassidy’s POVThe reception hall was a glittering cavern of excess, the kind my mother—now Vanessa Ashford—lived for. Crystal chandeliers dangled like frozen fireworks from the vaulted ceiling, casting a thousand twinkling lights across the polished marble floor. Tables groaned under the weight of
آخر تحديث : 2026-03-18His Dirty Little Secret You’re disgusting.
Cassidy’s POV I stripped off my wet clothes in the cramped bathroom of our old apartment, the fabric clinging to my skin like a bad memory. The rain had soaked through everything—jeans heavy with water, shirt translucent and cold. I let them fall to the tiled floor in a sodden heap, the sound muff
آخر تحديث : 2026-03-18His Dirty Little Secret Get out of my sight.
Cassidy's POV Richard whistled low, eyes lingering on the dress, then on me. “Damn. Kid’s got better tits than you, Vanessa. You sure she’s yours?”Mom laughed, high and brittle, slapping his chest playfully with the back of her hand. “Don’t tempt me, Richie. Maybe I’ll let you find out after the
آخر تحديث : 2026-03-18His Dirty Little Secret One call, and I’m there.
Cassidy's POV I nodded, throat tight. “I promise.” He searched my eyes for another beat, then leaned down, capturing my lips in a kiss that stole my breath. It wasn’t gentle. It was fierce, possessive, pouring every unspoken word into me. His tongue swept in, claiming, and I melted against him, h
آخر تحديث : 2026-03-18
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