Chapter 003

Jescyka’s POV

Darren’s hand was locked around the wheel, his veins taut, jaw set so tight I thought his teeth might crack. The city lights kept flashing across his face—amber eyes catching them, turning gold for a second, then dark again.

Every time he glanced at me, I felt it. Like heat radiating all over my body.

The car was too quiet, but not in a peaceful way, the silence was suffocating. The kind of quite that fills your lungs until you forget how to breathe.

I crossed my arms, pretending I wasn’t shaking. “So what is this, huh?” My voice came out croaky, still edged with tequila. “You come to play hero now? Or are you just finishing what your brother started?”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw flexed once, then again. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but stern, but dangerous in the way still water hides a current.

“I don’t want his scraps.” He shot me a look, and something in my chest stuttered. “I want what’s mine.”

I let out a dry laugh, the kind that hurts your throat. “Yours? You don’t even know me.”

But the way he looked at me said otherwise. Like he already did. Like maybe he’d known long before tonight.

I turned away, pressing my forehead to the cold glass. It didn’t help. My skin felt too hot, my chest too tight. The city blurred by in streaks of white and red, and all I could think was how did it come to this?

When the car finally stopped, I looked up—and my stomach dropped.

The house in front of us wasn’t a house; it was a mansion.

Big gates, clean walls, the kind of place that screamed money.

Inside was worse. Not at all what I’d imagined.

No chaos. No mess. No trace of the so-called “player” Marvy had mocked his brother for being.

Everything was perfect and warm at once—dark wood floors, black leather, the faint scent of musk and cedar that could only be him.

Darren handed me a glass of water. “Drink.”

I raised a brow. “What, you think I’m gonna pass out on your rug?”

He didn’t smile. Just stood there, patient, that unreadable look on his face. “I don’t want you waking up with a headache.”

That caught me off guard. Marvy never cared about things like that. He never cared about me like that.

But Darren waited, until I finished the glass, like it mattered to him that I did.

When I set it down, he was holding something else out—one of his shirts. Black, soft, big enough to drown in.

“put this on,” he said simply.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he lifted a brow, and somehow that was enough. I snatched it from his hand with a mutter and slipped into the bathroom.

The second I pulled it over my head, his scent hit me. It wrapped around me, mesmerising and pleasant, like it was crawling into my skin.

When I stepped back out, he was on the couch, his elbows on his knees, his eyes following me like I was the only thing worth watching.

“What?” I snapped, tugging the hem of the shirt down over my thighs.

“Nothing,” he said, but his gaze didn’t move.

I sank onto the couch across from him, pulling my knees up under me. The shirt slid a little higher, but I didn’t bother fixing it. Maybe I wanted him to look. Maybe I just needed to feel like somebody still saw me.

“He proposed tonight,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Darren’s brows lifted, but he didn’t speak.

“With flowers and everything,” I said, laughing once, dry and broken. “Little velvet box, fake smile, the whole classic proposal show. Then a pair of panties fell out of his pocket while he was on one knee.” I swallowed hard. That was not mine.”

I waited for him to mock it, maybe toss a sharp comment like his brother would’ve. But he didn’t. His jaw clenched, eyes darker now, steady on me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

His answer came quietly. “Because you’re mine.”

The words hit like a pulse under my skin. I didn’t know what to do with them. My chest rose and fell too fast. “You don’t even know me.”

He moved before I finished the sentence. One second he was across the room; the next his thigh brushed mine. His hand came up, rough palm against my jaw, tilting my face toward him. My heart kicked hard enough to hurt.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle or patient—just hungry. Like he’d been waiting forever for this. His mouth was all heat and pressure, and it shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did.

A sound slipped out of me—half gasp, half plea. My hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him closer. His tongue brushed mine, slow first, then deeper, and my thoughts just… vanished.

He gripped my waist, pulled me into his lap. I didn’t think, didn’t hesitate; I straddled him, and the world narrowed to the way our bodies fit. The hem of his shirt climbed, his fingers tracing fire along my bare skin.

“This is wrong,” I breathed against his mouth.

“I know,” he said, and kissed me harder.

His hips rolled once, slow, deliberate. I shuddered. Every low sound from him sank straight into my stomach. I couldn’t stop moving. Couldn’t stop wanting.

“Darren…” His name came out like a broken prayer as his lips found my neck. He sucked there, teeth scraping just enough to make me gasp. My fingers dug into his shoulders, desperate.

His hands slid higher, thumbs brushing my nipples through the thin cotton, and I almost cried from how good it felt. I didn’t care about right or wrong. It was just him — his breath, his warmth, everything else fading away.

Suddenly he completely stopped.

He held me there, both of us shaking, breathing hard. His forehead rested against mine. For a second, I thought he’d give in anyway.

But his voice came rough, strangled. “Not like this and not tonight.”

I stared at him, dazed. My lips were swollen, my body begging for his touch, even though I don't know why.

 “Why are you stopping?”

“Because you’re drunk,” he said. “And because I want all of you. Not half.”

That undid me more than the kiss. I didn’t even know what to say. My throat burned. My chest hurt.

He lifted me gently off his lap, stood, and carried me down the hall. I didn’t fight him, I had no strength in me.

He laid me on the bed like a prized possession, pulled the blanket over me, and brushed hair from my face. “Sleep,” he murmured.

Immediately the world went calm and dark.

**********

I don’t know how long I slept. When I woke, my mouth was dry, head pounding. For a second I thought I’d dreamed it all….the kiss, the longing, the way he’d said mine.

Suddenly I heard something strange.

A low sound, but it was rough, too deep to be human. A growl that vibrated through the floor.

I quickly sat up, my heart racing. It came again, outside this time, somewhere beyond the balcony doors.

I pushed myself up, stumbling toward the glass.

Outside, in the dark, I saw two glowing amber eyes looking back at me. They were not human. Not possible, then a shadow moved. It was huge, solid, fur glinting in the faint light.

I blinked hard, rubbed my eyes. “Great. Drunk visions,” I whispered. “Hangover hallucinations. Sure.”

When I looked again, the balcony was empty. Just a quiet night and the hum of the city far away.

I crawled back into bed, pulled the covers up to my chin, and told myself it was nothing.

Just exhaustion. Just wine and heartbreak.

Still, as my eyes drifted shut, I could’ve sworn I heard that growl again, but softer this time, like it was guarding me and nothing to be scared of.