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59.

Author: Nee Nee
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-14 06:41:03

~SCARLETT.

“Twenty,” I managed, the word fracturing in my throat like shattered crystal.

My voice quivered, just like the rest of me. The last spank still echoed through my skin, each one before it, stitched into me like fire, the burn spreading down my thighs, curling behind my knees, and searing into the hollow beneath my ribs. It was everywhere now, coiled in my muscles, throbbing in my wrists where he’d held me down, and pulsing in that twisted knot of heat low in my stomach that refused to die.

I hated it.

I hated him.

But more than anything… I hated myself.

Because no matter how much it stung, no matter how humiliating it was, I didn’t cry, not for him or this. But I was soaked. Soaked and pathetic.

Clenching my jaw, I squeezed my eyes shut as a fresh wave of shame washed over me. My legs quivered. My breath seized. My pride was hanging by a thread, slipping fast. And still, I could feel every inch of me hot, sore, and aching in pl
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  • SECRETS AND SEDUCTIONS   64.

    ~SCARLETT. Can I be considered a bad person for playing with this kid’s emotions just to keep Liam in check? Maybe. Probably. Okay… yeah. Definitely. But if stringing Lucas along was the only thing keeping Liam from breaking through every boundary I’ve built… then so be it. Let him see I’ve moved on. Maybe then he’ll stop trying to claw his way back into my life. “You’ll what?” Liam and Lucas said at the same time. Lucas sounded thrilled. Liam sounded like he was about to start throwing furniture. I bit back a smile. Trust the universe to hand me not one, but two L-named headaches. Figures. Still smiling, I pushed to my feet and sauntered over to Lucas. “Yes,” I said, syrupy sweet. “I’ll go as your date.” I didn’t spare Liam a glance. Lucas lit up like a damn Christmas tree. Liam? He was radiating heat like a ticking bomb. Lucas, clearly reveling in it, threw Liam a smug glance, then turned back to me, grin still wide. “The barbecue’s tomorrow, around noo

  • SECRETS AND SEDUCTIONS   63.

    ~LIAM. I always thought I was a rational man. In all my thirty years of life, I’d never let jealousy crawl under my skin. Why would I? Relationships weren’t part of the plan. They were distractions. Messy, emotional time bombs I was trained to avoid. After Marcus pulled Jake, Kelvin, and me out of that hellhole at eighteen, everything became singular: serve the Foundation, bleed through the training, and rise to the top. Attachments? Never in the blueprint. Sure, I had flings. Easy. Forgettable. No mess. No risk. No one who mattered. So someone explain to me… Why did I have this burning urge to smash this kid’s face in? The moment I saw him holding her—like he had any fucking right—one thought lit my brain like wildfire: Another man was touching what was mine. And not just any man. The same little shit I’d punished her for grinding against. If she hadn’t pulled away when she did, I swear to fucking God, I would’ve shattered his jaw

  • SECRETS AND SEDUCTIONS   62.

    ~SCARLETT. I blinked at him. Once. Twice. “You like me?” I echoed, like he’d just spoken in Morse code. And then I burst into a full-blown, body-shaking laugh that echoed across the yard and made him flinch. “Good one,” I said, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. “You really had me there for a second.” But he didn’t laugh. Just stood there, clutching that awkward little bouquet, amber eyes painfully sincere, like he’d just confessed something sacred. Oh God. He was serious. The laughter died on my lips. “Wait… you’re not joking?” He shook his head slowly, and I stared at him, stunned. “How do you even like me?” Shifting the flowers from one hand to the other, he said in a quiet voice, “I’ve been watching your performances for months. Every time, I asked for a private dance… but they always said you didn’t do those.” He gave a nervous little laugh. “It felt like the un

  • SECRETS AND SEDUCTIONS   61.

    ~SCARLETT. I lay flat on my stomach, chin resting on my crossed arms, staring at the scratched-up headboard in front of me. I’d been fixating on those faded streaks in the wood for four days straight because if I didn’t, I’d start thinking about other things. Dangerous things. Like Liam’s hand. My body still remembered every inch of it, burned into me like a brand. After he left me on the floor, I didn’t move for ten solid minutes. Couldn’t. I just lay there, heat pulsing through every nerve ending, legs trembling, and chest rising too fast as anger coiled deep in my gut. When I finally stood, my thighs were jelly and my ass was on fire. Performing that night? Not a chance in hell. I limped to Rick’s office, mumbled something about food poisoning, and braced for the explosion. He didn’t disappoint: face red, stapler slammed, ranting about “lost profits” and “useless girls.” I tuned out halfway through. Told him I’d be out the nex

  • SECRETS AND SEDUCTIONS   60.

    ~LIAM. “They murdered his wife and daughter. Left their bodies like trash. The bastard behind it? Untouchable. No justice. No trial. So he built this place… to give justice teeth.” Michael, our tech genius, spoke quietly, answering the new recruit. Greg, or whatever the fuck his name was, had asked what drove Marcus to build the foundation. Now he stood rigid beside Micheal, eyes wide, clearly unprepared for that kind of truth. They never were. I took a long sip from my third glass. The whiskey burned less than I wanted. High tolerance. Low expectations. We stood in the Vault, the Foundation’s deepest chamber. Above ground, we were the most prestigious consultancy firm in California. Below it, we were something else entirely. The Vault was wide and bare, black floors polished to a mirror’s sheen, matte stone walls absorbing the light. No chairs. No tables. Just space. And silence. A harsh glow poured from the overhead spotlights, catching on the centerpiece: a massive black b

  • SECRETS AND SEDUCTIONS   59.

    ~SCARLETT. “Twenty,” I managed, the word fracturing in my throat like shattered crystal. My voice quivered, just like the rest of me. The last spank still echoed through my skin, each one before it, stitched into me like fire, the burn spreading down my thighs, curling behind my knees, and searing into the hollow beneath my ribs. It was everywhere now, coiled in my muscles, throbbing in my wrists where he’d held me down, and pulsing in that twisted knot of heat low in my stomach that refused to die. I hated it. I hated him. But more than anything… I hated myself. Because no matter how much it stung, no matter how humiliating it was, I didn’t cry, not for him or this. But I was soaked. Soaked and pathetic. Clenching my jaw, I squeezed my eyes shut as a fresh wave of shame washed over me. My legs quivered. My breath seized. My pride was hanging by a thread, slipping fast. And still, I could feel every inch of me hot, sore, and aching in pl

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