LOGINMila Cross spent five years loving a man who slowly taught her how to hate herself. Every joke at her expense. Every apology that somehow became her fault. Every lie dressed up as honesty. So when her longtime boyfriend demands an open relationship, something inside her finally shatters. She doesn’t plan the night that follows. She doesn’t plan the stranger with tattooed hands and dangerous eyes who makes her feel wanted instead of tolerated. She especially doesn’t plan on sleeping with him and him being Ryan Wilder… her brother’s best friend, a man wrapped in violence and loyalty, the undisputed president of the Night Reapers MC.
View MoreMila’s POV
“You are so quiet, love.” Caleb said as he drove the car with one hand on the wheel, keeping his eyes on the road. “What is it?” His voice was soft. Most of the time. It was the voice everyone else loved. The voice that charmed investors and made my friends jealous. I didn't look at my fiancé. I stared out the window and clutched my clutch so hard the stones dug into my palm. “I am just tired, Caleb. The gala ran late.” I hated the galas he took me to. I always felt like a doll. His friends… high class… they would always judge me and he would do nothing about it just like today. “Tired.” He repeated the word as if he was mocking me. Then, suddenly, the car jerked hard toward the corner of the street. My seatbelt dug into my collarbone as he slammed on the brakes. He parked in the alleyway, blocks away from our apartment. “Caleb?” My voice trembled at the shock. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to me. His eyes narrowed. “You weren’t tired when you were laughing with that waiter, Mila. You seemed very awake then.” My blood ran cold. He was doing it again. It was becoming a routine now. “I… I asked for sparkling water. That was it.” “Don’t lie to me.” The calmness vanished, turning into the tone I feared. Before I could even be prepared, his hand shot out. He grabbed the back of my neck. I winced as his fingers tangled in my hair, forcing me to look at him. “I saw the way you looked at him. Like a starving dog.” “Caleb, please... you are hurting me.” “I am the only one who takes care of you!” He roared, his other hand flying up. I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut, but the blow didn’t come. Instead, he shoved my head back against the leather headrest. He exhaled and began adjusting his cuffs, instantly composed again. “I am bored, Mila. I am bored of this suffocating jealousy. I am bored of watching you pretend to be innocent.” I blinked back tears. “What are you saying?” He turned the engine off. The silence returned until he broke it again. “I think we need to make some changes. To the relationship.” I stared at him. “You want to break up?” He laughed humorlessly. “God, no. Who else would put up with you? No, I am talking about an arrangement.” “What arrangement?” I asked. “An open relationship.” The oxygen left my lungs. “We have been together three years, Caleb. You just proposed a week ago. We are supposed to get married in three months. Now you… you want to sleep with other people?” “I want freedom.” He corrected as he trailed a finger down my cheek. I shuddered as he continued. “And you obviously have needs I am not meeting, given how you flirt with anyone. So, here are the terms.” “Terms?” I was speechless at this point. “One.” He counted on his fingers. “You don't bring anyone home. That penthouse is mine.” “Caleb, I didn’t…” “Two. I approve your fuckers. I need to know who has their hands on my property. I am not risking my reputation because you can’t control yourself.” He leaned in. The scent of sandalwood and expensive scotch that I once loved filled my nostrils. “And three. You pay for your own fantasies. I am not financing you to fuck others.” “Caleb, I haven’t even agreed to this. You should at least ask if I…” He didn’t let me finish. He nunlocked the doors, cutting me off. “Get out.” I froze. “What?” “Get out, Mila. I need to clear my head.” “It is raining.” I tried to argue. “We are ten blocks from home.” “Walk.” He said coldly. “Consider it time to think about my generous offer.” When I didn't move fast enough, he reached across and shoved the door open. “Out!” I stumbled out onto the wet pavement. Before I could even close the door, he gunned the engine and drove away. I stood there for a moment. The rain was heavy. It was cold. I was shivering in my silk dress, fully soaked. I felt exposed. Used and then discarded. I fumbled for my phone to call my brother, Justin. My hands were shaking so badly I dropped it into a puddle. I snatched it up, wiping the screen. Call Failed. I tried again. No Signal. A sob tore from my throat. I couldn't go back to the apartment. I couldn't face Caleb. Not tonight. So, I started walking, keeping my head down. The rain masked the tears streaming down my face. I walked until my feet blistered, until the upscale neighborhood gave way to the neon-drenched district of dive bars and bad decisions. A flickering sign buzzed overhead: The Night Reapers. I didn't think. I just needed to be out of the rain. I pushed through the heavy black doors. The bass hit me first. The loud sound banged my ribs. The place smelled of smoke, sweat, and spilled gin. It was dark, crowded, and exactly what I needed. I wavered through the bodies and collapsed onto a stool at the far end of the bar. “Tequila. Double.” I croaked. The bartender, a woman with a sleeve of tattoos, glanced at my ruined dress, then at mascara running down my cheeks but said nothing. She slid a glass toward me. I threw it back. Fire burned through me. Another shot, same burn, same grounding sensation. I signaled for another. I didn’t even know how many I had ordered already. “You look like you are trying to forget a name.” A voice slurred from beside me. I didn’t look up. I just stared at the wood grain of the counter. Focus. Don’t bother. “Hey. Princess.” A hand clamped onto my bare shoulder. “I am talking to you.” I tried to shrug him off, but his grip tightened. Then I turned to look. He was older, greasy with a nasty grin. His drunk eyes scanned my whole body like I was something on a clearance rack. “Let go.” I said but my voice sounded weak. “Don’t be like that.” He leaned in, his breath sour. “You are too pretty to be drinking alone. That dress cost more than my car, didn't it? Who paid for it? Daddy? Boyfriend?” His hand slid from my shoulder down to my waist. “I bet you like it rough.” My stomach swirled. Caleb’s words echoed in my head. Who else would put up with you? Maybe he was right. Maybe I was just a target. “Please.” Panic was rising in my throat. “I am not interested.” “They all say that.” He grinned as his hand moved lower, fingers digging into my hip. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable. I was too tired to fight. Too broken to speak. Then, the pressure vanished. Completely. I heard him gasp. I immediately opened my eyes. The greasy man was still there. But he was nervous now. His face was turning pale. A large, scarred hand that was ringed in silver had tightened onto the man’s wrist, twisting it away from my body. The veins in the stranger's forearm bulged with lethal tension. “She said.” A voice rumbled from behind me. It was low and dark. “…she wasn’t interested.” The greasy man tried to pull away, but he was pinned. “Hey, man, easy. I was just…” “Leaving.” The stranger finished. He didn't shout. He didn't have to. The warning in his tone was enough. He released the wrist with a shove. The drunk stumbled back, rubbed his arm, looked once at the man standing behind me, and scrambled into the crowd without another word. My heart was hammering against my ribs. I turned slowly on the stool. The man towering over me was terrifyingly beautiful. Sharp jaw, dark stubble, and eyes the color of storm clouds. He wore a black coat that looked expensive, but he didn't look like the corporate sharks Caleb associated with. He looked like trouble. He looked down at me. For a moment, his gaze lingered on the red mark Caleb’s grip had left on my neck, then the bruise forming on my arm. “You are bleeding,” He said. It wasn’t a question. I touched my lip. It was bleeding. I hadn't realized I had bitten it through. “I… I fell.” He didn't buy it. I could tell. But he didn't press. “Is there someone I can call? A husband? A boyfriend?” I let out a broken, hysterical laugh. “Boyfriend. Yeah. He is the one who…” I stopped myself, the shame crashing down. “I have a brother. But it says no signal.” “No one else?” “No one.” He studied me for a long moment. Then he shoved his hands into his pocket. “Come with me.” I blinked, the alcohol making the room spin. “What?” “You can’t stay here.” He stated. His voice barely held any emotion but it was strangely captivating. “And you obviously aren’t going home. My car is outside. I have a place nearby. You can clean up. Sleep. Or even. No one will touch you unless you ask.” Unless you ask. That’s it. That was the warning. The words rang in my head. But my head was messed up with the alcohol. I was feeling hot and dizzy. “I have a boyfriend.” I blurted out. The stranger’s lips quirked up at the corner. It vanished quickly. “Then tell me to walk away.” I looked at the door where the rain was pouring down. Then I looked at him. He stood there like a wall from the chaos. Don't go with strangers. My mind echoed. Then Caleb’s words came rushing. I didn't tell him to walk away. I slid off the stool instead. And my knees buckled immediately. He caught me before I hit the floor. One arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard chest. The scent of leather and rain overwhelmed me. “Got you.” He murmured darkly against my hair.MilaThe string of coincidences was so impossible it felt like a sick joke the universe had played on me. The man I had drawn that broken crayon picture for, the boy who had promised me an empire, had been standing in the shadows of my entire life, watching me stumble, watching me fall and watching me marry a man who would eventually break my spirit."You knew." I whispered as I yanked my wrist out of his grip. "You watched Caleb hit me? You watched me walk into that emergency room with a bruised rib and you did nothing? You were the CEO of his company! You could have fired him! You could have stopped it!"Aaron shook his head. "I didn't know the extent of it at first, Mila. He was careful. But when I finally realized what he was doing... I was going to end him. I promise." He paused."But then Ryan stepped in." Aaron said as his voice registered into a dangerous, icy tone. "Ryan found you. And despite everything I felt, despite every instinct screaming at me to take you from him...
Mila Aaron’s entire body went perfectly still. The dark, empty void in his eyes completely vanished, replaced by a storm of raw, painful memories. He slowly lowered his head, staring at the floor for a long second before looking back up at me."Nobody has called me that in years.” He said softly. My back was pressed hard against the bookshelf. My hands were shaking so much that I had to drop the drawing onto the floor. I couldn't breathe. My mind was breaking under the weight of the truth."Why?" The word ripped out of my throat. "Why me, Aaron? Why keep all these pictures? Why watch me?"Aaron didn't step closer, sensing my fear. Instead, he slowly knelt down on the floor right across from me. It was the exact same way he used to sit in the corner of the playroom all those years ago."Because you were the only real thing in that house." He said. "Everyone else was broken, crying, or mean. But you... you were this tiny, brave thing. You were so cool, Mila. You never let the warden b
MilaThe sound of his voice triggered a violent memory in my mind.I wasn't looking at Aaron Allison anymore. I was looking at a Little boy.Twenty Three years agoSt. Jude's basement…I was six years old.The foster home was a purgatory of peeling wallpaper, the perpetual smell of bleach, and the cries of abandoned children. It was a place where you learned to shrink yourself to survive. But there was one boy who didn't shrink. He simply existed outside of the chaos.He was four or five years older than me maybe ten or eleven but his eyes were ancient. He moved through the drafty, miserable halls like a phantom, utterly detached from the brutality around him. He never joined the games in the yard. He never spoke to the wardens, not even when they withheld his meals as punishment for his silence. He never spoke to the other kids.There were only two exceptions.He would occasionally tolerate Jude, whose relentless, stubborn chatter was the only thing capable of piercing the boy's armo
ReaperSeven days.One hundred and sixty-eight hours of suffocating dead ends.The servers we had ripped from the wall at Pier 4 were sitting in the basement with our best tech guys but the encryption was military-grade. We were brute-forcing our way through firewalls while Mila was still somewhere far away.I was sitting behind my oak desk in my office, staring at the corkboard I had mounted to the wall. It was a chaotic web of maps, shipping manifests, and dead Aegis contractors.But my eyes kept falling to the center of the desk.The photograph.I had smoothed out the crumpled edges and placed it under the harsh glare of my desk lamp. The little girl in the red dress, smiling on the steps of that brick building. It was the only tangible link between Aaron Allison’s penthouse safe and Silas's mercenary hub. I had stared at it so long the colors were burning into my retinas, trying to force the image to give up its secrets.The door to my office groaned open, breaking the silence.I
JustinThe sleep didn't help. The talk with Reaper didn't help. Nothing helped.My sister was in a penthouse with a man who wanted her dead and I was sitting here, ordered to stand down like a prospect.The rage was eating me from the inside out. I needed to break something. I needed to bleed. Or I
MilaI woke up with a nasty taste in my mouth, like I had swallowed something rotten. Before I even opened my eyes, the nausea hit me, twisting my insides into knots.I practically leaped out of the guest bed and bolted toward the bathroom. I barely made it before I was on my knees in front of th
ReaperThe screen flashed with a text.Mila: Fuck you.Me: You wish.I leaned back, resting the phone on my chest. I should stop. I should maintain professional distance. But the memory of her taste was still on my tongue, and the anger at her leaving was still a fresh wound.Me: Tell me what you’
RyanJustin barked a genuine, rough laugh. "A vegan bakery. Terrifying. I bet you have even been to a board meeting. Did you use a laser pointer? Please tell me you used a laser pointer.""I threatened to throw a VP out of a sixtieth-floor window if he didn't restructure the supply chain." I replie
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