Lilian Reed is a determined young woman, working at the exclusive Shadow of Sophia club to support her dreams of becoming a nurse and leaving behind the exploitation by her stepmother, Diane, and her stepbrother, Liam. But her life crumbles when Diane sells her for a fortune to the feared Cassian Moore, a mobster whose presence exudes power and danger. The first encounter between them is marked by a brutal rescue and a gaze that burns like fire, planting the seeds of an irresistible sexual tension. Trapped in a dark agreement, Lilian is dragged into Cassian’s underworld, where each touch of his, firm on her chin, warm against her skin, threatens to dissolve her defenses. Every whisper laden with promise pulls her into an abyss of desire. Between the fear of being consumed and an overwhelming attraction, she proposes to work to pay off her debt and earn her freedom, but Cassian has other plans. “Understand once and for all, Lilian Reed. You belong to me now. You will work for me and answer only to my orders,” he declares, sealing the agreement with a brutal kiss that leaves her body trembling and her mind ablaze. As memories of a painful past resurface and danger closes in, Lilian struggles to resist the mobster's dominance, but will her heart be surrendered to him before she escapes this hell?
View Morehe Shadow of Sophia club was busier that night. The thick cigar smoke from the VIP area was suffocating, making it hard to see clearly and navigate between the tables while balancing that damn tray, but it was also where we got the best tips.
Just thirty more minutes.
That was all I needed to endure from those rich guys who had no sense of manners or respect.
Big shots. Businessmen. Politicians. Even the top tier of the underworld frequented that place. All of them strutted around in their fancy, expensive suits, laughing about how they had ruined the life of yet another random poor soul drowning in debt.
Shadow of Sophia was the most popular club in Soho, London. Known for its exclusivity and complete discretion, it wasn’t a place where just anyone could walk in for a drink. Even we, mere hourly workers, had to go through a tough hiring process and rigorous training before we could start serving in the halls.
The beautiful, elegant facade with purple neon signs and black velvet doors stood out even among the many bars and clubs in the lively Soho scene. But to me, none of it was even remotely appealing. In fact, every time I had to cross the bustling streets to get to the club, I felt the weight of the judgmental stares from those rich men and women who partied without any moral or financial limits.
“Like they say, all that glitters isn’t gold…” I whispered as I headed back to the bar with a tray loaded with empty whiskey glasses, squeezing between tables and dodging people.
It was as if no one could see the 5’6” woman in tight black pants, a vest, and a white shirt weaving through them with over fifteen glasses precariously balanced on a tray.
I tried to pass by a group of older men. They were deep in conversation, smoking their stinky cigars, so I thought it’d be easier to slip by them, even if it meant taking a big detour to reach the bar.
My regret was almost instant when one of the men stood up abruptly, shoving his chair back with such force that it slammed into my hip, throwing me off balance.
The sound of glass shattering made the entire room fall into a heavy silence. I was sprawled on the floor, my hand on a shard of glass, while everyone just stared at me, as if I were some exotic animal that had just escaped its cage.
“Lilian, are you okay?” Chloe, my friend and the mixologist at Shadow of Sophia, rushed over to me. Her eyes landed on my hand, which I tried to hide as best as I could.
When Chloe moved to ask about the cut, I shook my head with a subtle but clear gesture.
We couldn’t draw any more attention. We were paid to act like shadows, to avoid standing out and to be discreet about the identities of the club’s clients.
Carefully, I grabbed the cloth we carried to clean the tables and wrapped it around the cut to stop the bleeding, then started picking up the glass shards. Behind me, the men’s voices sounded amused as they laughed.
“Look what you did, Jorge. Poor thing…” The clear tone of mockery and scorn made me hesitate for a moment, but I clenched my fists, swallowing the humiliation in silence, and kept gathering the broken glass.
“She should watch where she’s going. This place seems to hire any dumb woman, as long as she’s hot, to work here.” They all laughed with amusement.
In that awful situation, all I could do was take a deep breath and get out of there as fast as possible. I grabbed the tray, now filled with broken glasses, already calculating how much would be deducted from my paycheck, when I felt my elbow being brutally grabbed.
“Hold on a second. Where’s your apology?” the man who had bumped into me demanded. His face was red and sweaty, pupils dilated, breathing heavy, and movements uncoordinated—clear signs of alcohol intoxication that I noticed as a nursing student.
Even though I was a nursing student, I had no intention of wasting my knowledge on someone like him. All I wanted was to move on and finally leave that place.
“Hey!” the man shouted, gripping my arm even tighter, making me grit my teeth from the sharp pain radiating through my arm. “I told you to apologize, you insolent girl.”
“Looks like this girl doesn’t know who you are, Jorge,” one of the men teased, which seemed to irritate the so-called Jorge even more as he held me.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir,” I said in a low, monotonous tone.
I didn’t want trouble; I just wanted to get out of there and check the severity of the cut on my hand. But apparently, my apology wasn’t well-received by the man and his group of friends, who laughed and mocked me without any filter.
Encouraged by his friends, the man named Jorge raised his hand, his face twisted with rage. I tried to pull my arm free and step away from him, but his grip was too strong, and all I could do was brace for the impact.
I closed my eyes tightly and tried to shield my face with my other arm. But the blow never came.
The sound of voices had vanished, and everything was in a complete, eerie silence. I lowered my arm and looked up, only to see a very tall man standing between me and my aggressor. The man was gripping Jorge’s wrist with immense strength, forcing him to let go of me immediately as he stumbled back several steps.
The group of “friends” had vanished, scattering into the crowd that averted their eyes from where we stood. Jorge was pale, as if all the alcohol he’d consumed had suddenly drained from his bloodstream.
“Raising a hand to a woman…” The deep voice of the man with his back to me sent a shiver down my spine, a feeling of danger slithering over my skin like a cold snake. “I expected more from a businessman with such an inspiring success story as yours, Mr. Jorge Taylor.”
Everything seemed to happen in a matter of seconds, but to my eyes, it all unfolded in slow motion.
The sound of the gun being cocked, the smell of gunpowder, the crack of the shot, and the heat of the blood.
The man who had just threatened me was now sprawled on the floor, completely still, with a hole in his forehead from which blood gushed. Some women screamed but were quickly restrained and escorted out of the area.
A few men, whom I recognized as the club’s security, approached and took control of the situation, carrying the body away to another location.
I was trembling.
The smell of blood reminded me of rusted iron. I ran a hand over my face, seeing the tips of my shaky fingers stained with bright red. I looked around, thinking someone would say something, or that they’d be calling the police or paramedics, but everyone just stood there, watching that absurd situation.
“You should be more careful, little squirrel. This world doesn’t forgive distractions,” the man in front of me said as he turned around, his face splattered with blood, just like his dark shirt.
His smile was as seductive as it was terrifying. He stepped closer, crouching in front of me and gripping my chin firmly. I closed my eyes and held my breath, afraid I might vomit on him from the strong smell of blood.
He released my chin and stepped back. I was grateful he’d lost interest in me. My body was shaking violently, and I had to hold myself together to keep from bursting into tears, sitting there on that blood-stained floor.
I stared at his back, broad and strong, trying to guess who he might be. As if he’d been called, he turned around, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping himself off carelessly.
A man capable of something like that, with everyone turning a blind eye, could only have a lot of influence or be someone very important in the underworld.
His lips moved slowly, in a message meant just for me. “We’ll meet again, Miss Reed. Perhaps sooner than you think.” My entire body shivered, intensifying my discomfort and curiosity.
Those words seemed to lift an invisible weight from my shoulders. It didn’t take long for tears to roll uncontrollably down my face. The warm touch enveloping me, the fresh yet comforting scent, even the roughness of his clothes against my skin—all of it made me feel truly protected by him. I clung to his arms, burying my face in them, ashamed to be seen in such a pathetic state—crying, trembling, fleeing like a criminal. Cassian waited patiently as I calmed down. Slowly, his fingers slid to my face, turning it toward him, and that’s when I noticed how he was dressed. His clothes were completely different from his usual style—a gray hoodie, a dark cap, and jeans. This wasn’t the attire a mafia Boss would wear in broad daylight. I wiped my face, pulling away from his touch. “What are you doing here, Mr. Moore?” As soon as I asked, Cassian covered my mouth, pressing a finger to his own lips, signaling me to stay silent. “I assume you don’t want to be found, do you?” I
Guilt and fear overwhelmed me. My entire body trembled as my legs gave way. I couldn’t organize my thoughts or muster excuses to defend myself. I was thinking of Cassian, comparing him to my boyfriend, and worse, choosing Cassian over Daniel. Under Daniel’s piercing gaze, my throat closed up, air wouldn’t reach my lungs, and my eyes burned with tears I couldn’t shed. Turbulent, dangerous emotions swirled within me, leaving me utterly powerless and weak before Daniel and his accusations. When I lifted my gaze, I met gentle eyes. Daniel looked at me with softness, a calm expression, his chest rising and falling steadily. It seemed he’d calmed down. I wanted to talk to him, explain everything, and put the misunderstandings behind us. To return to how things were. But even though I longed to approach him and hug him, my body wouldn’t obey. Daniel’s explosive reaction, his aggression, and jealousy were glaring red flags—the kind our mothers always warn us to avoid. In my ca
Despair had overtaken me by then. I thrashed, ignoring the stares, whispers, and phones pointed our way. I had to break free and get Daniel out of there, calm him down, and have a normal conversation with him—even knowing that, after what I’d witnessed from him, I’d never see him the same way again. “Daniel, let go of me now! This is absurd. Look at the scene you’re making, the shame and ridicule we’re enduring.” My teeth were clenched, my jaw aching from the strain. “Indeed…” Daniel’s wrist was seized by Jack’s hand, lifted with ease. “A boy like you would never know how to treat a woman.” Jack smiled, leaning his face closer to Daniel’s. “Your father must be disappointed with such an incompetent son.” Daniel’s face paled, his eyes widening. No matter what I said or tried to do to separate them, the situation only worsened, spiraling down an irreversible path. Jack’s men kept their distance, which eased my nerves slightly, but the same couldn’t be said for the onlookers.
I tried to smile, pretending to be familiar with Jack as I turned, putting my back to Daniel so he wouldn’t see the lie in my eyes. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Mr. Harris.” Jack smiled, clearly enjoying the stupid game he’d dragged me into. “You think I’d forget? I suppose it was the joy of finding you, Miss Reed.” “This is ridiculous!” Daniel’s voice came low and fierce from behind me. “You’re Lily’s new employer? You expect me to believe that?” His words hit me hard, especially since I’d just confirmed Jack was my boss. I looked at my boyfriend, whose eyes remained fixed on the redheaded man before him. Jack let out a dry laugh, reaching into his coat to pull out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with grace and elegance. He studied Daniel carefully before turning to me. “Who’s this kid, Lily?” My face flushed the moment my nickname slipped from Jack’s lips, and at the same time, Daniel lunged at him, shoving me aside with more force than necessary. I couldn
Liam rose, wiping the blood trickling from his nose with the back of his hand. “You posh wanker! Mind your own business!” Before he could say more, Liam was lifted by the collar of his shirt. “Touch her again, and I’ll kill you, Reed.” I didn’t need to see his face to know who it was. The strong, deep tone of his voice, the slightly tousled dark blond waves, and his sturdy frame with broad shoulders gave him away. “Daniel…” his name slipped from my lips with a sigh of relief. My boyfriend shoved Liam away, who stumbled back, retreating quickly, but not before casting me a deadly glare and spitting on the ground. “We’ll meet again, you whore.” Everyone around stopped to watch Liam stagger off, struggling to stay upright. Chloe and Amy helped me up and guided me to one of the café’s outdoor chairs. A kind waitress offered me a glass of water, which I could barely hold due to the violent trembling of my hands. I took a big gulp and then clutched my wrist, covering my w
As soon as I was ready, I sent messages to Chloe and Amy, arranging to meet up after so long. I was excited. Having that moment of freedom was a breath of fresh air after everything I’d witnessed. The warm, cozy atmosphere was the complete opposite of London’s gray, chilly morning. My friends were already seated, but the moment they saw me walk in, they stood, greeting me with tight hugs. “Chloe told me you were okay, but I still worried,” Amy said, gripping my hands tightly in hers. “I’m sorry, Amy. Things have been hectic with work and college.” “I heard about what happened from some upperclassmen, but it didn’t make the news,” Chloe commented as we settled at the table. “I… wasn’t there that day. I was at my part-time job,” I said, trying to cover it up while scanning the menu. “Really?” Chloe said, leaning over the table toward me, her big blue eyes sparkling like a summer sky. “But, girl, you’ve got the club. Do you need money? Is that old hag tormenting you
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