LOGINMy panties were still damp.
I didn't know if it was fear or desire.
I slumped against the cold metal bench outside the club and tried to scrub the memory from my head. The kiss. His voice. His hands. The gun pressed into my back.
It felt like a nightmare…until I remembered the ache between my thighs.
No. It happened. All of it.
"Kat, the cab's almost here." Selena sat beside me, her phone glowing in the darkness. It was past midnight. The city streets were empty except for a few stumbling drunks and the occasional car passing by.
I shut my eyes, but all I could see was those green predator eyes watching me run.
Minutes later, the cab arrived and we slid into the back seat. The silence between Selena and me was suffocating.
She finally broke it.
"Kat." Her voice was soft but firm. "What happened in there?"
I opened my mouth…. Closed it. …Tried again.
"I walked into the devil’s room."
"Devil?..." She waited.
"There were men. Guns. And this... this man." My voice cracked. "They thought I was someone else. A stripper they'd hired."
Selena's eyes went wide. "What?!"
"One of them put a gun to my back, Sel." The words tumbled out now, fast and panicked. "He told me to kiss him…the boss…or we'd both die. So I did. I kissed him."
I covered my face with my hands.
"And the worst part? I didn't just do it because of the gun."
Then Selena's hand found mine, squeezing tight.
"Kat... what do you mean?"
"I mean..." I could barely say it. "Part of me liked it. His hands on me. His mouth. I got... wet, Selena. From fear or lust, I don't even know anymore. But my body wanted it."
I laughed a broken, bitter sound.
"My first kiss was with a mafia boss at gunpoint in front of strangers. And I got turned on."
Selena didn't pull away or look disgusted. She just held my hand tighter.
"Kat, listen to me." Her voice was steady, grounding. "You were terrified. You had a gun to your back. Fear does weird things to our bodies—adrenaline, survival mode. It's not your fault that your body reacted."
"But it felt good," I whispered, ashamed.
"That doesn't mean you wanted it to happen." She squeezed again. "But babe, you need to stay far away from whatever that was. Men like that... they're dangerous. You know that, right?"
I nodded slowly, looking out the window at the blurred streetlights.
"I know."
But even as I said it, I could still feel the ghost of his grip on my hip. The taste of him on my tongue.
The way he smiled as I ran.
Like he was letting me go. For now.
The cab pulled up to my apartment building a run-down complex on the south side of the city. peeling paint andbroken security lights. Home.
"You good to go in alone?" Selena asked with worry on her face.
"Yeah. I'll be fine." I forced a smile. "Thanks, Sel."
"Text me when you're inside, okay?"
"I will."
I slipped out of the cab and watched her drive away. Then I crept around the side of the building to my bedroom window.
I lived with my older brother, Mateo, and the last thing I needed was him asking questions about why I was sneaking in after midnight.
The window slid open quietly. I climbed through, my heels hitting the carpet with a soft thud.
I kicked off my shoes and peeled the dress from my body, letting it drop to the floor in a heap. My hands were shaking.
In the bathroom, I turned the shower on full blast and stepped under the scalding water.
But I couldn't wash him off.
I scrubbed my skin until it was raw, but I could still feel his thumb rolling over my nipple. Still feel the heat of his breath against my neck. Still feel the hard press of his erection against my thigh.
My hand slid down my stomach. Between my legs, I was still slick.
I stared at the wetness on my fingers, confused and ashamed.
"What the hell is wrong with me?"
This wasn't just fear. This was arousal. My body had responded to him…to the danger, to his dominance, to the way he'd claimed me in front of everyone like I was already his.
I hated that even now, standing alone in my shower, my core ached for more.
One kiss shouldn't ruin a girl.
But mine did.
I wasn't at the club for pleasure. Not tonight.
Massimo, the club's owner, had arranged a meeting in the back VIP room. A deal. Drugs and guns moving through the port—high risk, higher reward. The kind of deal that would cement my control over the eastern docks.
The deal was done. Money exchanged. Shipment confirmed.
Now I was stuck in this overpriced den of smoke and bass, watching Massimo parade women in front of me like livestock at auction.
"Don De Luca," Massimo purred, gesturing to the line of girls standing against the wall. "I've brought the finest for you tonight. Dancers, models—whatever you want."
I leaned back in my chair, cigar smoke curling toward the ceiling. My right-hand man, Marco, stood silent at my side. My two bodyguards flanked the door.
I barely glanced at the women.
Beautiful? Sure. Perfectly polished. Hair styled. Makeup flawless. Bodies displayed like merchandise.
Boring.
They all wanted the same thing money, status, a chance to get close to power. They'd smile, spread their legs, and pretend to enjoy it.
I'd had a hundred like them. None of them made me feel anything.
"Massimo." My voice cut through his desperate sales pitch. "If this is all you've got, I'll pass."
His face paled. "Wait, Don. There's one more. She's running late, but I promise she's different. Worth the wait."
I took another drag from my cigar, unimpressed. "You have five minutes."
He scurried out like a rat.
Marco glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. "You really gonna sit here and wait?"
"For five minutes? Why not." I exhaled smoke. "Maybe he'll surprise me."
He didn't.
But she did.
The door opened.
And in walked a mistake.
She wasn't polished. Wasn't strutting. She stumbled in like a deer into a wolf's den, wide-eyed and frozen.
Curves that didn't need a dress to be noticed. Hips that swayed even when she was terrified. Hair falling loose around her shoulders. And those eyes—big, brown, and full of panic.
“Massimo must’ve sent her by mistake, but I didn’t care. Something about her felt like a challenge.
And that made her perfect.
Massimo grabbed her by the arm, shoving her forward. "This is the one, Don. Shes.."..
I leaned forward, elbows on the table, studying her like a puzzle I wanted to solve.
"What's your name?"
She hesitated, lips trembling. "K-Katarina."
"Katarina." I let her name roll off my tongue slowly, tasting it. She flinched like I'd touched her. "Do you know who I am?"
She nodded, barely.
"Good." I leaned back, letting the silence stretch. "Then you know I don't like wasting time."
Massimo barked something at her…show me what she's got, perform, I didn't care..but I kept my eyes on her.
She looked at me. Then at Massimo. Then at the gun on Marco's hip.
Then she leaned in and kissed me.
Clumsy. Inexperienced. Shaking like a leaf.
And it made me hard.
I grabbed her—one hand fisting her dress, the other gripping her breast. She gasped, and her nipple slipped free. I rolled it between my fingers, slow and deliberate, watching her face flush with shame and heat.
Her mouth opened under mine. I took it. Claimed it. My tongue swept in, tasting her fear and something sweeter—arousal.
She was wet. I could smell it.
My cock pressed hard against her thigh, and she whimpered—not from pain, but from need.
I wanted to flip her over the table right there. Spread her legs. Bury myself so deep she'd forget her own name.
But I didn't.
I pulled back, holding her gaze. Her pupils were blown wide. Lips swollen.
She was Perfect.
Then the door opened.
Another woman arrived..the one Massimo had meant to bring. I waved her off.
I looked at Katarina, kneeling in front of me, her dress half off and her body still trembling.
Then I smiled.
"Let her go." She nodded frantically and ran.
But I didn't stop watching.
Not when she stumbled through the door. Not when she disappeared into the crowd.
I stood, adjusting my jacket, and walked to the exit.
There….on the street…I saw her climbing into a cab with another girl.
She looked back.
Our eyes met.
And I smiled and left.
…………………………………………
Back in the VIP room, Marco lit a cigarette. "You want me to find her?"
"Yes."
I looked at him, my voice cold and certain. "She walked into my world. That makes her mine now."
"You really gonna chase some random girl?"
I smiled slow and dangerous.
"She's not random anymore." She may have walked out that door. But she stopped being free the moment her lips touched mine. I’d find her. No matter what it took.”
She walked into the wrong room but what if it wasn’t a mistake?
Katarina POV“Don’t tell me to leave, Kat.”Selena’s voice cracked through the morning air. She stood with her suitcase by the gates, her hair pulled back tight, lips pressed thin. Behind her, the driver leaned on the car, waiting. The iron gates were half-open, and from this far you could already hear the faint buzz of reporters from the other side of the estate.I folded my arms, trying to look calm even though my chest hurt. “You promised Lucas you’d go back to him. Don’t start now.”“I don’t care about promises.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Fiorella is back. You think I can just leave you here with her circling like a vulture?”The early morning wind picked up, tugging at her coat. Her eyes flashed, stubborn, just like mine.I reached out and squeezed her wrist. “Listen to me. I’m fine. I’m not scared of her.”Selena laughed, bitter. “Not scared? She has a history with both of them. You think she came back for fun? She came back to ruin you.”I smiled, but it didn’t
The Japanese Special Guest POV… A Meeting at a secret back room clubThe bass from the club thumped through the walls, a steady, heavy beat that made the glasses on the table tremble. The back office smelled like old wood, leather, and expensive cigar smoke. No windows. Just one dim lamp hanging low over the desk, its light a tight circle in a room full of shadows.The French Minister was already in the room when I stepped in. He smelled of sweat and stale cologne. His jacket was crumpled on the chair beside him, his tie hanging like it had given up.His hands clasped too tightly in his lap. Sweat dotted his forehead, catching the light every time he shifted. His suit was perfect, his hair perfect — but his eyes… his eyes kept jumping to the figure across from him.He couldn’t see the figure’s face. He couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman. The voice was distorted, mechanical — it could’ve belonged to anyone.Without thinking, I tapped two fingers on the desk — in time wit
Vittorio POVThe first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was her.Katarina. Curled on her side, breathing soft, her hair scattered over my pillow like it had always belonged there. One bare shoulder peeked from under the blanket, pale in the early light. She didn’t even stir when I shifted.For a few seconds, I just looked at her. Something low in my chest tightened — like someone had their hand in there and was twisting it.Then last night began coming back in pieces. Not all of it — just flashes, blurred like a smudged photograph.The champagne on my tongue. Her scent — not jasmine, not roses — the kind of clean warmth that clings to a woman after she’s been asleep. Then another scent, sharper, sweeter. Jasmine. Fiorella’s scent.I remembered leaving this bed. I remembered going to Fiorella’s room.I’d gone to warn her. To ask her why she was here, why now. I told her to stay out of sight today. It wasn’t just any day — it was the campaign shoot for my election. Media everywhere.
Valentino POV“You didn’t answer my question.”I didn’t bother sitting down. I stood in the doorway, one hand braced on the frame, watching her like she might turn to smoke if I blinked.Fiorella didn’t flinch. Didn’t even try to fake surprise. She just shifted her weight, robe sliding across her thigh like the fabric had been trained to obey her.Her lips curled slow. “And which question was that, exactly? You’ve asked so many, Tesoro.”My jaw locked. “How did you know Jared?”For a second, she just looked at me. Then, instead of answering, she closed the space between us — soft steps over thick carpet — until the jasmine from her robe tangled with my breath.Not answering my question about Jared. Not even pretending to think about it. Just that slow, cat-like walk — bare feet against the carpet, silk robe swaying with each step. The lamplight caught her skin, warm and golden, and I could smell her before she touched me. Not just perfume — her. Heat. Sweat from whatever she’d been
Katarina POVThe knock wasn’t loud, but it still made my chest clench. When I opened the door, Vittorio was there — no tie, shirt hanging open like it had given up on him, hair a mess from his own hands. He smelled like champagne and something darker, heavier… the kind of scent that stuck to skin even after you left the room.“I can’t sleep without you,”His voice was low and rough, almost a growl, but there was a crack in it that made my stomach twist. “For a moment I just stared at him. He leaned on the frame, arm braced against the wood like it held him up. His suit was half-untied, tie hanging like a defeated snake. Eyes glassy. Hands that jittered just enough to prove he’d had too much and yet somehow locked on me like I was the only thing keeping him standing.Behind me, Selena sat up on the bed, eyes darting between us. Then she smirked, that cat-in-the-cream look on her face.“Oh no,” she whispered, “this is gonna be good.”I turned my head toward her and gave a quick, del
Valentino POVThe ice in my glass had melted hours ago, but I kept swirling it like I was waiting for it to tell me something.The room felt too quiet after I left Katarina at her door. Quiet enough for my thoughts to start lining up in that dangerous, obsessive way they did when something didn’t add up.And nothing about tonight added up.Not Jared’s death. Not Fiorella’s sudden return. Not the fact that the woman and child he’d been tracking for weeks — the ones who visited her grave — turned out to be her and a girl that looked too much like me and my brother to deny.I poured what was left of my drink into my mouth, the whiskey biting all the way down. It didn’t help.Then Jared’s face flashed in my head —I could still smell it if I closed my eyes — the sharp tang of blood mixed with soap. The bathroom tiles had been slick under my shoes. Jared was sprawled on the floor, the water still running from the tap, his shirt stuck to him like damp paper. His eyes were open, staring at


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