Cracks in Control

Luke’s POV

“You narcissistic braindead piece of shit!” she spat. “Your daughter is brought back to you safe and sound, and you interrogate me? Are you insane?”

My jaw tightened. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“You’re the awful father who lost his kid and has the ridiculous gall to blame someone else for it. You could be the president himself – I don’t give a flying damn. Nobody talks to me like that. Least of all for protecting their child.”

Protecting

That word echoed. It hit harder than the slap.

“I am not a bad father.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Sure, Kendra has had a long day. She needs a hot bath, a warm meal, and sleep. As for you, take your idiotic assumptions and shove them. I don’t argue with fools.”

She turned to leave.

Something inside me snapped. Each insult ignited something in me.

I caught her wrist before I could think.

“Let me go!” she snapped as she bumped into the wall as I towered over her with a cold expression.

Her breath came fast. Her eyes were angry, defiant. They showed no fear.

Instead, they showed something I didn’t expect - challenge.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said quietly

“Like hell I’m not.”

Her knee connected with me faster than I could react. 

I winced in pain as she tried to run. I grabbed her again, momentum sending us both crashing on the floor.

She fell on top of me.

Time froze.

Her hair fell around us like a curtain. Her lips were parted, cheeks flushed, and her breathing heavy. But her eyes…they blazed with a fury, the kind that consumes.

She was breathtaking.

What the hell is wrong with me?

She pushed to get up, but I rolled us over, pinning her wrists gently but firmly above her head. 

She writhed and pushed. Her small frame protesting so defiantly.

I leaned close enough to feel the heat of her breath.

A rubber ball hit the side of my head…then another.

I let go of her instantly.

Kendra stood in front of us, her fists clenched.

My heart dropped.

We’d been too loud.

I stretched my arms out for a hug.

She walked past me, straight to Rheya.

Her tiny hands tugged at the hem of her dress. 

Rheya picked her up. She clung to her neck with such ease, like she belonged there.

And then Kendra turned to look at me.

Not afraid, but disappointed.

That look cut deep.

Rheya’s fingers threaded gently through her hair, instinctive. Protective.

Kendra hated strangers.

She didn’t cling.

She never trusted.

Yet she held onto this woman like she was oxygen.

This firecracker had done more in a few hours than what expensive specialists had failed to do for years.

I exhaled slowly.

Fucking hell.

She wasn’t just trouble.

She was necessary.

And that made her my new problem.

A dangerous one.

Rheya’s POV

I held Kendra in my arms, rocking her, and threading my fingers through her hair to calm her down. The little girl must be traumatized. I bent to put her down, but she wrapped her legs tightly around me and gripped my neck even tighter. 

Come on baby, let me go before your daddy gets angrier!

Luke stared at me and I stared back at him

A tacit understanding between us.

No arguing in front of the child.

Just then the butler came in holding a phone. "Mr Raygan, an important call…”

He stopped midway, noticing the tension. “I will take a message,” he said nervously and skipped back out.

My mind raced trying to process the name I had just heard.

Of all the people I could have messed with, how did I mess with this devil? 

He’s the one that scares the demons. 

Luke Raygan, BABA YAGA in the flesh, the man who killed five hitmen with a wrench, sitting across from me, his eyes piercing into me.

My heart is beating like a drum from a marching band, but something is wrong with me because why am I more turned on than afraid? 

I should be planning my escape, but do I really want to escape? 

And would this handsome devil let me… Fuck, why am I objectifying the man that could snap my head off like a twig without breaking a sweat…and for the life of me, why does the outline of him underneath that fabric ignite this feral instinct in me? 

Snap out of it, Rheya; you can’t dance with the devil, not this one…no matter how sexy he is. 

And the worst part?

He’s staring at me like I’m his to devour