Six: Kittenxo Unfiltered

Gianna

I rest my head against the window as memories of tonight wash over me.

Kevin, my boyfriend? What am I thinking?

That’s the issue. I never think when it comes to Dmitry. I’m just an impulsive little… argh.

I rub a hand over my face. Hating myself won’t fix anything now. I still have to figure out a way out of this mess.

“Ma’am, we’re here.”

The driver’s voice snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts and I look up at the building in front of me.

My mouth drops to the fucking floor.

I turn to the Uber driver. “Are you sure this is the right location?”

“Yes. Number twelve, District Drive.”

I nod, forcing myself to look composed, and step out quietly. Mostly because Dmitry has already paid for the ride. Fucking asshole.

I stare at the building in stunned silence. I know he’s rich, but not this rich. The building itself represents Dmitry’s personality so well, a fucking doberman of a man I absolutely hate and still want to pet.

I barely have time to bask in the beauty of the batcave before the low growl of an engine cuts through the night.

I roll my eyes instantly. Always knows how to ruin the mood around me.

A motorcycle pulls into the driveway and stops a few feet away from me, the headlight briefly blinding before it clicks off. The silence that follows feels loud.

I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to turn around but I can’t help myself.

Dmitry swings off the bike with that irritating ease, broad shoulders flexing as he sets the helmet aside like he is not actively ruining my emotional stability.

Lord, how am I supposed to survive here with him? Alone!

When my heart doesn’t understand that this man ruined our life—not exactly ruined, but he left us when we needed him.

“And why are you standing outside?” he asks.

His voice sounds like some sweet scratchy melody if that makes any sense, gruff but leg wobbling.

I blink back when I realize he’s suddenly right in front of me. Way too close.

How does he move that fast?

I make the mistake of meeting his eyes; they dance around me with uncontrolled lust and, well, an incredible amount of need.

Fuck. I am screwed.

“I… I was waiting for you,” I say, the words tripping over themselves.

He looks mildly amused as he turns toward the house, fingers brushing briefly against my wrist as he passes.

My heart slams violently against my ribs. Get a grip, Gia, he’s your ex and you’re not a child anymore.

“Didn’t think you had manners,” he says over his shoulder. “Can’t say I’m not proud.”

And just like that, any ounce of attraction that almost formed shatters.

Right. There he is.

Still a jerk.

Dmitry turns toward the house and I follow, mostly because standing outside arguing with him feels like a terrible idea for my sanity.

The door opens with ease, his fingerprint accessing the front door. Holy fucking cow.

I step immediately, trying to hold back my utter surprise, but the inside is just the same, like I just wandered into a palace ball as a maid.

Black floors, high ceilings, soft lighting that makes everything look precise. Every single thing looks and feels expensive without trying too hard. I hate how impressed I am.

Dmitry kicks off his boots near the door, rolls his shoulders, then shoves his thumb into his mouth and whistles sharply.

My eyes widen, and a low giggle escapes my lips.

Shit. I quickly slap my palm against my mouth to shut myself up, but it’s too late.

He glances back at me, eyebrows raised. “Something funny?”

I shake my head quickly. “No. Sorry. I just didn’t peg you for the fingers-in-mouth type.”

I mean, back then he bites his finger a lot but stops while we are dating, so I don’t bother asking why he does that.

One corner of his mouth lifts. “You don’t know a lot of things about me, Gia.”

He starts walking again and I follow, trailing behind him like I could get missing if I wander off.

“This is the living room,” he says casually, gesturing to a massive space with dark couches and glass walls that overlook the city. “Kitchen’s over there. Gym downstairs. And my office is off limits.”

“Off limits?” I echo.

He looks back at me. “Very.”

I snort. “I wonder why.”

He ignores that and keeps moving. “Guest rooms are on this side. I have a security team positioned everywhere in case you try to do something stupid.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” I mutter.

He stops in front of a hallway and turns to me, gaze steady. “Your room’s upstairs.”

My chest tightens at the word your.

He starts up the stairs without waiting, and against my better judgment, I follow him.

Every step feels like crossing a line I promise myself I will never cross again.

He stops in front of the last door on the right and pushes it open.

“This is you,” he says.

I step inside and every bite dies in my throat; I can feel bile running up my throat at the same time the tears prick my eyes.

The room is my room, the exact same one I show him off P*******t. Dark sheets, a reading chair by the window with a shelf already stocked with my favorite books.

Even the curtains are the exact same shade I love. Beige.

“What is this?” I ask, my voice coming out rougher than I mean it to but to hell with comporting myself.

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed with a bored expression on his face. “Your room?”

“No, that’s not my question,” I snap, turning to face the room and then back at him. “Why does it look like this?”

His gaze doesn’t waver. “I had it done before I left.”

I laugh, short and breathless. “Bullshit.”

He frowns. “Gia.”

“Everything is new,” I say, waving my hand around. “The furniture. The bedding. The shelves. Don’t insult me by lying to my face.”

I cross my arms, trying to steady myself, trying not to cry like an idiot.

Why is he making this harder than it’s supposed to be? We are done. I am done with him.

He pushes off the wall, slowly closing the distance between us until his chest is barely inches away from mine. I can feel his gaze peering down on me and I hate how short I must look from his eyes.

He dips his head, voice low. “Do you want it to be a lie?”

My breath hitsched.

He tilts his head slightly, eyes locked on mine. “Or are you just scared because you still like me?”

My mouth gapes like a fish out of water and that is my mistake.

His hand comes up, fingers brushing my jaw. He leans in slowly, like he’s giving me time to stop him.

I don’t.

His breath ghosts over my lips.

And then my phone buzzes.

I shove him back just enough to create space, my pulse still hammering.

“What the fuck,” I mutter to myself.

My hands shake as I bring my phone to view, Kev's name flashing across the screen. I tap it and my lips curve into a smile before I even read the full text.

Kev: I bet he's sucking up to you now, maybe even licking on your toes. Haha, be safe, love.

Oh Kev, if only you knew.

Dmitry clears his throat, sharp and pointed. “You’re not going to stare at that forever, are you?”

I squint my eyes at him. Was it the same person who nearly kissed me less than a minute ago?

“Okay listen up. A few things while you’re under my roof.”

I lift my eyes, letting him talk but already dreading the list.

“There are cameras in the common areas,” he says, matter-of-fact. “You don’t have to join me for breakfast, but dinner is a must. And your feet stay out of my room.”

I just nod. My mouth feels dry and my brain refuses to cooperate, so I let him leave without saying a word.

The second the door clicks shut, I sag against it and let out a breath I don’t even realize I’ve been holding.

Living in this house will not work, at least not without me making a grave mistake I will live to regret.

I unlock my phone, scroll to Diane’s number, and tap it. My fingers tremble slightly.

“Okay,” I say softly, almost to myself before hitting send. “I’ll do it. I’ll be a full-blown cam girl. Not just the 18+ cosplayer stuff anymore.”

A mix of fear and exhilaration hits me all at once. I’m going to be kittenxo unfiltered.