LOGINEden's POVI stood at the library window long after the black van had disappeared into the mist, my forehead still cold from the glass. The house was silent around me, but I could feel them everywhere—Daniel's calculating gaze, Silas's protective shadow, Felix's dark intensity. They had claimed me, piece by piece, until I was no longer Eden the foster kid, Eden the survivor. I was theirs. And the worst part—the part that made my stomach twist with shame—was how much I wanted it.The church smelled of old wax and something sharper, like the ozone before a storm. I had chosen this place carefully, this neutral ground where neither the Schmidts nor the law could claim full ownership. The nave stretched before me, empty pews like ribs, the crucifix looming overhead with its painted agony. Voss stood beneath the stained-glass saints, his jaw set harder than the marble beneath my heels. He didn't turn when I entered, but I felt the shift in the air, the way his attention sharpened like a bl
Eden's POVI stood at the library window, the cold glass pressing against my forehead as the black van rolled up the gravel drive. The headlights cut through the predawn mist like knives, and I knew before the doors even opened that something was wrong. Felix’s men moved first, boots crunching on the stones, their silhouettes sharp against the dim light.Then they dragged her out. Greta. Small and fragile, her nightgown clung to her body like a second skin, the fabric so thin I could see the goosebumps rising on her arms. She didn’t struggle. Not at first. She just let them pull her, her bare feet scraping against the driveway, her dark hair tangled around her face.Then she saw Felix.Recognition flared in her eyes, bright and immediate, like a match struck in the dark. And then—hatred. Pure, unfiltered hatred, the kind that burns hot enough to scorch. I felt it in my own chest, a mirror of her fury. For a second, our gazes locked through the window, two women separated by glass and
EdenThe safe house sat at the end of a gravel road, half-hidden by pine trees. I killed the engine and checked the magazine of my pistol. Twelve rounds. Not enough if things went bad.Silas touched my arm. "You stay in the car until I clear the perimeter."I looked at him. "No.""Eden-""She's more likely to come willingly if she sees a woman, not a man pointing a gun at her." I pocketed the spare clip. "And you're not going in alone."His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. We'd been over this. Greta Voss had information we needed. Her brother had stashed her in witness protection two years ago, then decided she knew too much. We had maybe six hours before his people moved her somewhere else. Or silenced her.We approached on foot, sticking to the tree line. The house was a squat brick building with blackout curtains. A single light burned in the kitchen. I could see a figure moving inside. Female. Dark hair.Silas held up a hand. We stopped.He scanned the windows, the roofline, an
Eden's POVThe hotel lobby smelled like stale coffee and expensive perfume, the kind that clings to fabric for days. I walked beside Daniel, my body still throbbing from his office, each step a reminder of who I belonged to. The welts on my ass burned against my dress, the fabric brushing fresh marks with every movement. I kept my chin up, my eyes forward, playing the part of the queen even as my knees threatened to buckle.Elena Voss waited in the lounge, her red dress a splash of blood against the cream-colored furniture. She was beautiful in a sharp, predatory way, all angles and calculations. Her gaze swept over me, lingering on the bruises Daniel's fingers had left on my throat and the slight limp I couldn't quite hide."How domestic," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "The pet and her master."Daniel's hand tightened on my lower back, a silent warning. "Careful, Elena. You're in my city.""Am I?" She smiled, cold and calculated. "I think you'll find the rules have changed
Eden's POVI lowered myself to my hands and knees, the hardwood rough against my palms, my knees. I started crawling, my eyes fixed on the floor, my body moving slowly, deliberately, each shift of my weight sending fresh pain through the welts on my ass, reminding me of who I belonged to, who had marked me, who was waiting to mark me again.Daniel walked behind me, his pace unhurried, his belt dangling from his hand. I could hear the soft slap of leather against his thigh, a metronome of my submission, a promise of what was to come.The hallway seemed endless. My knees burned, my palms stung, and every time I slowed, every time the pain made me hesitate, his voice cut through the air like a whip."Faster, pet. My patience is wearing thin."I crawled faster, my breath coming in gasps, my body trembling with the effort and the fear and the desperate, burning need that was building low in my belly. This was what Daniel did to me - he took me apart, piece by piece, until I was nothing but
Eden’s POVI closed the library door behind me, my body still throbbing from Daddy's belt, my skin marked and claimed. The hallway was dim, the estate quiet in that heavy way that meant everyone was waiting, watching, and preparing for war.Daniel stood at the end of the corridor.He was dressed in black tailored trousers, a crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his silver watch catching the light. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were dark and fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch.He knew. Of course, he knew. In this house, there were no secrets, no closed doors, no acts that belonged to only two people. What happened in the library belonged to the family, and Daniel was the head of it."Come here, pet," he said, his voice low and controlled.Pet? Oh, this is new.I walked toward him, my legs unsteady, my body aching in places that made each step a reminder of who I belonged to. The welts from Daddy's belt burned against my
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
Eden’s POVI was going to leave. I’d packed my things, mentally, at least, and told myself that this city, this woman, and this whole pathetic attempt at a mother-daughter reconciliation wasn’t worth it. I was going to walk away with my dignity and pretend none of it touched me and also pretend I d
DanielHer breathing was shallow in the car, ragged, like each inhale hurt her lungs. “I—I can’t breathe,” she gasped, grabbing at her chest. That was all I needed to hear.“Hospital. Now.” My voice was steel.The driver hit the gas, and I pulled her closer; her body curled into mine like she was t







