"You were sent to betray me, Reina. Did you really think I wouldn’t make you mine instead?" She was supposed to be his downfall. A spy in his house. A pawn in a game she never agreed to play. But from the moment Reina Vale steps into Cassian Morelli’s world, the rules shatter. He isn’t the crippled king the world believes him to be. And she isn’t the innocent nurse he hired. Now, caught in a web of lies, obsession, and deadly desire, Reina has two choices—run from the monster hunting her… or let him consume her whole.
View MoreReina’s POV
The nightmare always began the same way. The sound of footsteps in the hallway. The creak of a door opening. A shadow stretching across the floor, swallowing me whole. I curled into myself, pressing my little fingers against my ears, trying to block out the hushed voices outside my bedroom. But nothing could stop the sickly sweetness of alcohol and cologne from seeping under the door, wrapping around my throat like a noose. “Be a good girl, Reina.” The words slithered into my mind, the same way they had that night. The sheets tangled around my legs, my body frozen as the dark figure loomed over me, a hand brushing over my cheek. Then the pressure. The searing pain. The muffled scream. I jerked awake with a sharp gasp, my chest rising and falling in panicked, shallow breaths. Sweat dampened my forehead, my nightshirt clinging to my skin. I pressed the heel of my palms against my eyes, willing the images away. It wasn’t real. Not anymore. But my body still remembered. With a shaky breath, I pushed the blankets off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The air in my tiny apartment was stifling, pressing in on me like a second skin. I needed to shake this off. To forget. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I flipped the faucet and let cold water pool in my hands before splashing it over my face. I gripped the edges of the sink, staring at my reflection. Wide blue eyes. Freckles dusting my nose. The same face that had stared back at me for years, but never quite felt like my own. I glanced at the clock—almost morning. Cursing under my breath, I rushed through a shower, scrubbing my skin until it was raw, as if I could scrape away the filth of memories long past. Pulling on loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, I concealed my curves the way I always did. The way I had learned to after it happened. My stepmother’s voice slithered through my mind, cold and venomous. "You brought this on yourself. You made them do it." Like hell I did. How could a thirteen-year-old be responsible for her own nightmare? How could a child be blamed for the monsters that tore her innocence away? I clenched my jaw, shoving the thought away as I grabbed my bag and locked the door behind me. The past was a shadow that always followed, but I wouldn’t let it define me. I flagged down a cab, sliding into the backseat with a heavy sigh. But the moment I remembered who my patient was today, my exhaustion twisted into something sharper. David Lance. The old man was insufferable. Even at his age, he still had the perverted habits of someone who had never been told no. The last time I had cared for him, his hand had wandered too far, grabbing a handful of my butt while I adjusted his IV. I had nearly given him an overdose just to shut him up. The cab pulled up to the large estate, the wrought-iron gates creaking open as I stepped out. I’d been here too many times to be a stranger, but familiarity didn’t make me hate it any less. Inside, the house smelled of stale money and disinfectant. I moved through the motions—checking his vitals, replacing his IV, preparing his medication. “Ah, my favorite nurse,” David rasped, his lips curling into a smile that made my stomach churn. “Come to brighten my morning?” “Good morning to you too, Mr David,” I said with an air of indifference. “The morning could be better if you had slept next to me,” he continued with a sick smirk that made my insides burn. “Take your medicine,” I muttered, my tone clipped. He chuckled again, his bony fingers brushing against my wrist as I handed him the pills. “You know,” he drawled, “if I were a younger man—” “You’d still be a perverted old bastard.” His laughter rumbled in his chest, thick with amusement. I ignored the way my skin crawled and continued with my work, barely containing my urge to shove a pillow over his face. It would be so easy. Just a few minutes of pressure. One less predator in the world. The thought made my stomach twist. I wasn’t a killer. At least not yet. Handing him the last dose of his medication, I turned on my heel and stepped onto the balcony, sucking in a breath of crisp morning air. My hands trembled as I pressed them against the railing. It was just another day. Just another patient. Just then, a loud shrill scream cut through the air. I whirled, rushing back inside to find one of the maids frozen in the doorway, hands clutched to her head. A tray lay shattered on the floor, tea spilling across the marble. My gaze darted to Mr David. He was on the ground, eyes wide and glassy. My heart slammed against my ribs as I dropped to my knees, pressing my fingers against his neck. No pulse. No breath. What the hell? My stomach clenched. The medicine. Had I—? A chill crawled down my spine. What have I done? **** My pulse pounded in my ears as I pressed my fingers harder against David Lance’s throat, searching for any sign of life. Nothing. His skin was already cooling beneath my touch, his mouth frozen in a silent gasp. No, no, no. My gaze flickered to the nightstand, where the small paper cup of pills I had given him sat—empty. I had given him the right dosage. I was sure of it. Wasn’t I? The maid stood frozen near the door, her hands clutching her head, her eyes wild with panic. “I—I just brought him his tea,” she stammered. “I walked in and—” I barely heard her. I was too busy running through the last ten minutes in my head. I had handed him his medication. I had turned away. Did I kill him? My hands trembled as I grabbed his wrist again, pressing hard against the fragile skin, willing a pulse to beat against my fingertips. Nothing. The reality settled in like ice in my veins. Mr David Lance was dead. The man who reminded me of the nightmares I could never escape. The man who had groped me, humiliated me, laughed in my face when I recoiled. The man I had fantasized about smothering in his sleep. And now he is gone. A slow, terrible thought crept into my mind. Would anyone believe I hadn’t done it?REINA’S POV“You can’t hand it over?” I repeated, the room tilting just slightly around me. “What the hell do you mean you can’t hand it over? It’s mine. My father—”“Reina, stop.” His voice was calm, but laced with something heavy. Exhausted. “You’re getting it wrong. I’m not cheating you out of your father’s company. God, I’d never—” He scrubbed a hand over his face and sat down heavily behind his desk. “The truth is... I haven’t been paying attention. I let things slip. Too many things.”My stomach knotted. “What are you saying?”“I’m saying that since your father’s death, I’ve been trying to keep things afloat while managing my own business, but I made mistakes. Big ones.” He leaned forward, voice low. “Records aren’t adding up. Whole quarters of account sheets missing, staff embezzling, invoices forged. The logistics wing lost two major clients last month. I had no idea until it was too late.”My mouth fell open.“The meeting you walked in on earlier?” He nodded toward the shut
Reina’s POVAfter that, the ride became too quiet. Not the comfortable silence of old friends or the heavy silence of lovers in a fight. No. This one felt off—like we were in the opening scene of a horror movie. Right before the jump scare. The sky was too clear, the streets too normal, and yet every fiber of my being screamed that something was wrong.I kept glancing at him from the corner of my eye. Roman. My Roman. Or so I thought. But he wasn’t looking at the road like he usually did—relaxed, humming under his breath. He was too composed. Too still. The shadows under his eyes seemed deeper today. Like he hadn’t slept. Or maybe hadn’t blinked.“Reina,” he said suddenly, catching my gaze mid-suspicion. “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna start thinking you’re planning to eat me.”I blinked, startled. “What?”“Yeah,” he said, grinning, that boyish Roman grin stretched over something steelier. “You’ve got that look. Like I’m the last Twinkie in the apocalypse. Take a p
Reina’s POV“Are you okay?” Roman asked softly, tugging at my elbow. I realized I’d just been… standing there, staring into space.“I’m fine,” I lied.He raised a brow.I forced a weak smile. “Well, I’m as fine as someone in a blood-stained dress can be without looking like a low-budget horror movie victim.”Roman snorted. “Reina, please. You look like you just crawled out of a cult initiation and murdered your way to the buffet table. People are gonna think you eat humans if you step outside like that.”I actually laughed—real, sudden, sharp. It caught me off guard. Him too.But then it faded. I stopped smiling. I looked down at my hands. Then back up at him.“You’re leaving, right?” My voice barely made it out.He blinked. “I mean, yeah. I just got a call. Why?”“Can you give me a ride?” I asked. “Just… drop me somewhere.”Roman shrugged easily. “Sure. But not with you looking like you just crawled out of a slaughterhouse. You need to change first before someone calls animal control
Reina’s POVHe kissed me.But I didn’t kiss him back.If this were days ago—before I started craving Cassian Morelli in that dark, twisted way that shames me even now—before I understood how easy it is to become nothing more than a shadow under his gaze—maybe this would have felt like a dream come true.It was a crush at first sight when I met Roman.The safe kind. The high-school-sweetheart version of yearning. Clean. Sweet. Untouched.But now?Now, all I felt was dirty.I pulled away, my breath stuttering, my fingernails digging into my palms hard enough to hurt. The sharp bite of pain was grounding, almost necessary. Roman looked at me, his brow furrowed in confusion and—was that anger?A flicker of something dark passed through his features. Quick. Chilling. Gone before I could decide if it was real or just the blood loss playing tricks on me.He blinked, then seemed to hit a switch, like flipping a mask back on.“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, voice rough. “God—I shouldn’t have don
Reina’s POVThe moment the door clicked shut behind me, the cold hit.Not physical cold—but something deeper. Like I’d been standing too close to a bonfire and now, away from it, I felt the ache of heat lost. I didn’t cry. Not then. I couldn’t. My heart was still too stunned, like it had hit pavement after a fall it didn’t see coming.I walked the corridor slowly, each step echoing off the marble. Every part of this mansion looked the same—ornate, curated, cold. The kind of place where silence was louder than any scream. But I wasn’t thinking about décor.I was thinking about the way his voice cracked when he said get out. He sounded broken. Too broken.The guilt in his eyes before it vanished.The blood on his knuckles.And the thunder behind his ribcage that didn’t calm even after I gave myself to him.This wasn’t about me. I knew that. I knew that. But the sting still bloomed in my chest like a bruise under the skin.I wanted to help him. To heal him beyond his legs. To take the pa
Reina’s POVI need to help him forget. Even for just a second.“I need you to distract me,” he said, voice low—coated in something bitter and dark, like ash after a fire.It wasn’t a request. It was a command, dragged from a place between agony and obsession.And I didn’t need to be told twice.Because the way he said it...It made me want to be the thing that pulled him back from the edge.His distraction.His madness.His silence.And I would give it to him—whatever he needed.Even if it burned us both to the ground.When I reached him, he grabbed me by the waist with both hands, hard and sure. His grip bruised. I gasped as he pulled me down onto his lap, dragging me into him like he needed my skin to stitch his soul back together.His hands slid under my thighs, shifting me, guiding me until I was straddling him properly. My skirt bunched around my hips. The buttons on his shirt were already undone, his chest hot and solid under my palms.He leaned his head back against the leather
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