MasukHe’s the most powerful man in Ameria. His new bodyguard was hired to protect him… But he’s secretly there to destroy him. President Damien Voss is cold, ruthless, and untouchably desirable. When an assassination attempt shakes his administration, he's forced to hire Killian Reeve—a dangerously hot ex-special ops soldier with secrets darker than his eyes. Their chemistry is electric. Their tension? A weapon waiting to go off. One touch could ruin everything. But neither man can stay away. **In the shadows of a burning city, lust and lies ignite.** And when hearts get involved... betrayal cuts deepest.
Lihat lebih banyakDamien’s POV By the time Sophia and I made it back to the house Friday evening, my arms ached from carrying far too many shopping bags, and my stomach was protesting after all the food and wine she’d forced me to try. She was radiant, satisfied, and smug—like a little sister who knew she’d succeeded in running me ragged. Killian was already waiting near the front door, leaning against the wall with that watchful patience of his, dressed in his usual muted tones that somehow made him look both invisible and striking. His eyes softened when he saw me, though he masked it quickly when Sophia tugged me toward the main sitting room. “Perfect timing,” she said. “They’re about to start.” I blinked. “Start what?” “The tradition,” she replied with mock horror. “Did you forget?” I hadn’t forgotten exactly, but in the blur of the day I hadn’t realized how quickly evening had come. The family tradition: The Circle of Blessings. Every wedding-eve, we all gathered in the sitting room, cir
Damien’s POV Friday morning came with a softness I hadn’t felt in years. There was laughter echoing from the kitchen before I even left my room, the clinking of dishes, and the faint smell of coffee and warm bread wafting upstairs. Killian was already awake, of course — he always was. I found him standing near the window, arms folded across his chest, his sharp eyes taking in the view of the vineyard below as if threats might crawl up through the vines. The way he carried himself here, in the middle of domestic peace, looked almost out of place — but somehow, he didn’t seem uncomfortable. Just watchful. “You sleep at all?” I asked, tugging on a casual shirt instead of a suit. That felt strange too. “Enough,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. His voice was low, rough, but there was no edge to it. “Your family wakes early.” A smile tugged at my mouth. “We always have.” Downstairs, the kitchen was alive with motion. Mum was already bustling about with a pan in her hand, chiding M
Damien’s POV Thursday came faster than I expected. The Ash House still smelled of long nights and burnt coffee from endless briefings, but my thoughts weren’t on politics. Not on Roul, or Anita’s impatient schedules, or Richard’s constant reminders about security. No. My head was somewhere else entirely: my brother’s wedding. “Your bag’s already in the car,” Killian’s low voice cut into my thoughts as he appeared in the doorway, shoulders filling the frame like he always did. He was dressed casually—dark jeans, a fitted black shirt, jacket thrown carelessly over one arm. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d run his hand through it one too many times. That little detail did something to me. I nodded, feigning calm. “Thank you.” He arched a brow, smirking faintly. “Nervous?” I gave him a look. “It’s just family.” “That’s usually when people are most nervous,” he said, walking past me, close enough that I caught his scent—something sharp and clean with a hint of spice. “Especial
Killian’s POV The moment stretched into something dangerous. I had promised myself I wouldn’t let this happen again. Not after the last time Damien’s mouth was on me, not after the way my body betrayed every defense I’d built. Yet here I was, back in his bed, back under his control, back giving him every fucking inch of me. His hands were all over me, rough, demanding, and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t fucking stop. “Killian,” he growled, my name rolling off his tongue like both a curse and a prayer. The sound of it wrecked me. I felt his fingers dig into my hips, holding me down as though he knew I’d bolt the second I had the strength. But he wasn’t letting me run, not tonight. His mouth was on my neck, biting, sucking, marking me where no one else should ever see. My skin burned, my pulse thundered, and my cock throbbed with need I hated myself for. “You want this,” Damien whispered against my throat. “Don’t pretend you don’t.” I gritted my teeth, trying to fight him even as m
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