LOGINEden’s POVThe morning didn’t come with the sound of an alarm or the sun hitting my face. It came with the heavy, electronic click of my bedroom door unlocking from the outside. I stayed still, buried under five layers of Egyptian cotton, watching the handle turn.A maid walked in. She was a woman in her fifties who had been with the family for years, but she wouldn't look at me. I am used to Victoria. She kept her eyes fixed on the silver tray in her hands as she set it on the nightstand. When I moved, the sheets hissed against the bruises on my hips—reminders of Daniel’s grip and Felix’s teeth."Good morning, Miss," she whispered."Maria," I said, trying to catch her eye. "You don’t have to do that. You don't have to look at the floor."She didn't answer. She just adjusted the napkins and backed out of the room like I was a wild animal that might snap if she made a sudden move. The door clicked shut behind her, and I heard the lock engage again. It was a soft sound, but it felt like
Eden’s POVThe black SUV smelled like expensive leather and Daniel’s cologne—a scent that used to make me nervous but now just felt like part of the air I breathed. I sat in the back seat, sandwiched between Silas and Felix. Luca was in the front, his eyes constantly scanning the street through the tinted glass. Daniel was driving. Daddy hadn't come. He didn't need to. He was the shadow behind the curtain, and we were the show."Stop messing with the hem," Silas said. His voice was low, but it had that weight that made my hand freeze instantly.I looked down at my lap. I was wearing a dress that cost more than my mother’s apartment. It was deep emerald silk, cut so low in the back that I felt every draft, and so tight it felt like a second skin. It was designed to show off exactly what they wanted people to see—the grace they had bought and the marks they had left."I'm nervous," I said. It was the first honest thing I’d said all day.Felix reached over and squeezed my knee. His grip
Eden’s POVThe first thing I felt was the weight. It wasn't just the heavy duvet or the massive, carved ebony bedframe. It was the physical ache in my bones, the soreness between my thighs, and the crushing reality of what had happened in this room while the moon was high. My body felt like it didn't belong to me anymore. It was a map of teeth marks, fingerprints, and the lingering heat of six different men.I opened my eyes, but the light coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows was too much. It was a pale, cold Atlantic sunrise that stripped away the glamour of the night and left only the raw, ugly truth.I was alone in the bed. That was the first surprise. I expected to be pinned down, held like a trophy, but the space beside me was empty. The sheets were a mess of silver silk, stained and wrinkled. The room smelled like spent sex, expensive tobacco, and that heavy, peaty scotch that seemed to run through the Schmidts' veins instead of blood.I tried to sit up, but a sharp sting
Daniel’s POVThe room was saturated. The air was a thick, humid weight of musk, sweat, and the fading scent of Felix’s tobacco. I stood at the edge of the shadows, watching the rise and fall of Eden’s back. She was a map of our family’s greed—bruised, marked, and glistening under the amber lamps. Felix had left her on all fours, trembling, her head hanging low as she gasped for air that was too heavy to breathe.I set my glass down. The ice didn't even clink; the condensation had made it silent. I stripped the silk from my shoulders, letting it pool on the floor, and stepped into the light. I wasn't the Prince, and I wasn't the Butcher. I was the one who had maintained her. I was the one who had calculated her value from the moment she was born, and tonight, I was the one who would seal the Pact."Look at me, Eden," I said. My voice wasn't a roar; it was a cold, iron command.She didn't move fast enough. I reached out, my hand tangling in her sweat-dampened hair, and hauled her head b
Felix’s POVThe smell of Silas and Jonas was still heavy in the air, a thick, suffocating cloud of sweat and spent adrenaline, but I was already moving. My skin was crawling with a restless, jagged need that had been building since the moment we stepped out of that cellar. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want the scotch. I wanted the friction.I stepped into the light, my robe hitting the floor before I even reached the edge of the bed. Eden was a mess—flushed, trembling, her skin marked by the hands and teeth of the men who came before me. She was lying there like a broken bird, her breath coming in short, shallow hitches. I didn't give her a second to recover.I grabbed her ankles and hauled her toward me until her ass was hanging off the very edge of the mattress. I didn't wait for her to look at me. I didn't care if she was ready. I shoved her legs back until her knees were pinned against her own chest, exposing every inch of her ruined, soaking heat."My turn, little bird," I ras
Silas’s POVThe heavy weight of my intent was a physical force as I stepped toward the bed. Luca was still breathing hard in the shadows, but I was already moving. I didn't need the scotch or the talk. I needed the heat. I reached out and hauled Eden from the sheets, her body slick and pliant, and threw her onto her back.I dropped to my knees between her thighs, my hands catching her knees and shoving them wide, pinning them against the mattress until she was completely exposed. I didn't look at her face. I looked at the ruin of her, the wet, swollen evidence of Father and Luca. I leaned in, my face inches from her heat, and inhaled the iron and musk. Then, I buried my face in her.I used my tongue like a weapon, licking her from the base of her clit down to the opening of her pussy with long, punishing strokes. She arched off the bed, her fingers digging into the pillows, a high, thin wail breaking from her throat. I didn't slow down. I sucked the swollen hood of her clit into my mo
Eden’s POVThe warehouse smelled of wet concrete and ozone, a damp, heavy cold that seeped into my bones through the tears in my dress. I was zip-tied to a rusted pipeshaft in a corner of the basement, my jaw aching from where the man with the scarred throat had backhanded me 18 hours ago.His name
Daniel’s POVThe file on Deacon Arthur Vance made my fucking skin crawl. It wasn't just the abuse; it was the meticulous, holy-rolling theater he used to cloak it. This prick didn't just break children; he did it in the name of a god he didn't believe in, using a pulpit as a hunting blind.He was t
Daniel’s POVThe basement of the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city was a far cry from the refined, leather-scented dungeon of my estate. This place was raw. It smelled of damp concrete, rusted iron, and the pervasive, cloying scent of fear. I had chosen it for its lack of history, a blank
Luca’s POVThe penthouse of the Grand Regency felt like a gilded cage. It was the kind of place my father sent people when he wanted them out of his sight but still under his thumb. As I stood in the foyer, the scent of expensive lilies and stale gin hit me, a fragrance that had become Lilian’s sig







