LOGINI sold myself to a masked stranger for one night. My brother is dying. The medical bills are drowning me. So I walked into a private auction wearing black lace and a mask, and I let a stranger buy me. He was cold. Commanding. Twice my age. He called me princess and made me beg for things I had never dared to whisper out loud. For one night, I was not the broke, exhausted twin sitting at a hospital bedside. I was his. Every moan. Every tear. Every orgasm. He gave me the first pleasure of my life and then sent me home with fifty thousand dollars and a bruise on my throat that I could not stop touching. I told myself I would never see him again. Then I walked into my new job. He was standing in the corner office. No mask this time. Just a sharp suit, cold eyes, and a smirk that said he had known exactly who I was all along. Ezra Dane. My brother's former best friend. The man who destroyed my family. He owns the company I just got hired at. He signs my paycheck. He holds the door to his office open every morning and waits for me to walk through it. And last night, he sent me a message. My penthouse. 9 p.m. Wear the collar. I should report him. I should quit. I should run as far from this forty two year old nightmare as humanly possible. But when he looks at me with those dark eyes and says good girl, my legs spread before my brain catches up. He wants to own me. And I am terrified that I want to be owned.
View MoreThe months after the center opened were the busiest of Vienna's life. She woke up each morning before dawn, made coffee, and worked on her manuscript. She spent afternoons at the center, meeting with families, attending events, giving interviews. She had dinner with Ezra and Silas and Maria and her mother. She played with her daughter. She fell into bed each night exhausted but fulfilled. Life was full. But something was still missing. She could not name it. It was not fear. Not anxiety. Not grief. It was something else. Something quieter. Something that whispered in the back of her mind when she was alone. She tried to ignore it. She threw herself into her work. She spent long hours at the center. She answered emails until her eyes blurred. She planned events and wrote speeches and shook hands with donors. But the whisper would not stop. --- Ezra noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything about her. "You are restless," he said one evening, finding her on the balcon
The morning after the book launch, Vienna woke with a sense of peace that had eluded her for years. She lay in bed for a long time, listening to the sounds of the city waking up outside her window. The distant hum of traffic. The gentle chirping of birds. The soft rhythm of Ezra's breathing beside her. She had everything she had ever wanted. A husband who loved her. A daughter who was the light of her life. A mother who had come back from the dead. A brother who was healthy and happy. A career that mattered. A legacy that would last. She turned her head on the pillow and looked at Ezra. He was still asleep, his dark hair tousled, his face relaxed in a way it rarely was during waking hours. He looked younger like this. Softer. She reached out and traced the line of his jaw with her fingertip. His eyes fluttered open. "Good morning, princess." "Good morning." "Did you sleep well?" "The best I have slept in years." Ezra pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "I am glad." "Wha
The morning after the reunion, Vienna woke to the sound of laughter. It was a sound she had not heard in her home in years. The kind of laughter that came from deep in the belly, from a place of pure joy. She lay still for a moment, listening, trying to place it. Then she remembered. Her mother was here. Her mother was alive. Her mother was in the kitchen, making breakfast with Silas, and they were laughing together. Vienna smiled. She slipped out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Her mother was at the stove, flipping pancakes. Silas was at the counter, cutting fruit. They were both covered in flour. They were both grinning. "Good morning," Vienna said. Her mother turned. Her face lit up. "Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" "The best I have slept in years." Silas laughed. "That is because you finally stopped worrying about us." Vienna walked to the counter and stole a piece of fruit. "I will never stop worrying about you. That is my job." "Your job is to eat break
The house was small and white and surrounded by trees. Vienna stood on the porch, her hand raised to knock, her heart pounding so loud she was sure everyone inside could hear it. She had been standing here for what felt like an eternity, frozen in place, unable to move. The woman she had mourned for five years was on the other side of this door. The mother she had buried, cried over, and learned to live without was alive. She was real. She was here. Ezra stood behind her, his hand on the small of her back. "You can do this," he said softly. "I am right here." Vienna took a deep breath. She knocked. The door opened. Her mother stood in the doorway. She was older. Thinner. Her hair was gray, not the warm brown Vienna remembered from her childhood. Her face was lined with years of worry and grief. But her eyes were the same. Warm and loving and full of tears. "Vienna," she whispered. "Mom." They fell into each other's arms. "I am sorry," her mother sobbed. "I am so sorry. I nev
Vienna dried off slowly, stretching each movement to delay the inevitable. As long as she stayed in this bathroom, wrapped in a thick white towel that smelled expensive, she did not have to walk out into the real world. She did not have to accept that the night was over.But the water had run cold
Ezra fucked her like he was trying to break her.Each thrust was deep and deliberate, pushing into her with a rhythm that stole her breath. Vienna's legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back, pulling him closer even as she cried out from the force of him. The collar press
The leather was cool against Vienna's throat.Ezra stood over her, his masked face unreadable, his fingers working the buckle at the back of the collar. The strap sat snug against her skin, not tight enough to choke, just tight enough to remind her it was there. A small silver ring dangled at the f
The mask itched.Vienna Cross stood in the narrow back hallway of The Velvet Room, her bare shoulders pressed against cold concrete, and tried not to throw up.Six other women lined the wall beside her. Each wore the same thing: black lace lingerie, a silk robe, and a full face masquerade mask in m







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