Chapter seven

Lila’s POV

The bass still vibrated in my bones as I stepped out of the shower in my tiny apartment, steam curling around me like secrets I couldn’t wash away. Last night at the club replayed in my head on a loop—the stranger’s hands on my skin, the way he moved inside me with such raw confidence, the thick envelope of cash that now sat on my kitchen counter. I had a new boyfriend now, at least that’s what I’d told my sisters at brunch. A half-truth that felt safer than admitting I was Luna, the girl who danced and fucked for money when bills piled up too high.

I toweled my hair dry and stared at my reflection in the foggy mirror. At twenty-six, I was supposed to be the free-spirited youngest sister—the one who didn’t carry the weight of expectations like Evelyn or the quiet intensity of Claire. Instead, I was juggling two lives that were starting to feel impossible to separate.

My phone lit up with a text from the unknown number I’d saved simply as “Him.”

Him: Last night was incredible. Same time tonight? I’ll double it.

A rush of heat flooded my cheeks. I shouldn’t. One-night mistakes were one thing, but going back felt like stepping onto a dangerous path. Still, the money would cover rent for two months, and the way he touched me… no one had ever made me feel that desired. That seen.

I typed back: Okay. VIP suite at 11.

The rest of the day dragged. I ran errands, avoided calls from Mom, and met Claire briefly for coffee where she seemed distracted and jumpy. She kept checking her phone and barely touched her latte. When I asked if everything was alright, she brushed it off with a fake laugh.

“Family stuff. You know how it is.”

I nodded, but I could tell there was more. Evelyn had been watching us both too closely at brunch. The tension between my sisters felt thicker than usual, but I pushed it aside. I had my own mess to handle.

By eleven, I was back at the club, transformed into Luna. The private suite smelled of leather and expensive cologne when he arrived. He looked even better than I remembered—tall, dark-haired, with sharp features and an intensity that made my stomach flutter. He closed the door behind him and pulled me into a deep kiss without saying a word.

Our clothes came off in a heated rush. He lifted me onto the wide velvet chaise, spreading my legs wide. His mouth was everywhere—kissing down my neck, sucking on my nipples until they hardened, then moving lower. He ate me out with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue, two fingers pumping inside me until I was writhing and moaning his name.  When I came, shaking and gasping, he didn’t give me time to recover. He positioned himself between my thighs and pushed in deep, stretching me perfectly. The rhythm started slow and deep, then built to something harder, more desperate. I wrapped my legs around him, nails digging into his back as he fucked me thoroughly, the chaise creaking beneath us.

      “You’re so tight,” he groaned, thrusting harder. “So fucking perfect.”

I lost myself in the sensation—the slap of skin, the fullness, the way he hit every sensitive spot. Another orgasm crashed over me, stronger this time, and he followed right after, burying himself deep and filling me with warmth.  We lay tangled together afterward, catching our breath. That was when he reached up and gently pulled the small decorative mask I wore as part of my Luna persona away from my face. I did the same to him, pushing his hair back. My heart stopped.

     “Marcus?” I whispered, shock freezing me in place.

He wasn’t surprised at all. A slow, knowing smile curved his lips as he looked at me—really looked at me.

     “Lila,” he said softly, almost tenderly, tracing a finger along my jaw. “I knew it was you the moment you walked onto that stage last night. I’ve known who you were for years.”

The revelation hit me like a punch. Marcus. Evelyn’s husband. My brother-in-law. The man who had just fucked me twice now, deep and raw, and filled me with his cum.

I scrambled back on the chaise, pulling a sheet over my naked body.

      “This… this can’t be happening. You’re married to my sister.”

Marcus sat up, completely unbothered, reaching for me again. 

     “And yet here we are. Secrets have a way of coming out, don’t they? But don’t worry. I won’t tell if you won’t.”

My mind spun with panic and confusion. The money, the pleasure, the guilt—all of it crashed together at once. I had just slept with my eldest sister’s husband. Again. And the worst part was… some dark, hidden part of me already wanted more. As he dressed and left another thick envelope, I sat there in stunned silence, the taste of betrayal already bitter on my tongue. My double life had just become infinitely more dangerous.

The next morning. Back in my apartment, I showered again, trying to scrub away the scent of him. My phone showed missed messages from Evelyn asking if I wanted to grab lunch soon—just the three of us sisters.  I stared at the screen, water dripping from my hair. My sisters had no idea I was sleeping with a man who moved in their world. And I had no idea how long I could keep this hidden before everything collided.