Mag-log inEve
He tells me over breakfast.
Like it’s nothing. Like he’s reminding me we’re due for a dentist appointment.
“A specialist will arrive this afternoon,” Dominik says, buttering a slice of bread with deliberate calm. “We’ll both be tested. Fertility, hormone panels, motility.” He glances at me, crystalline eyes unblinking. “I want to be sure everything works as it should.”
My stomach curdles around the coffee I haven’t even touched.
I lower my fork. “And if
DominikThe island has a rhythm, and it belongs to me. The sun rises when I command it, the waves crash in time with Eve’s ragged breaths, and the days pass in a haze of salt, skin, and submission. She’s been thoroughly conquered. Her body, once a fortress of defiance, is now a territory I know better than my own. I know the exact spot on her neck that makes her breath hitch, the way her inner thighs tremble just before she comes, the raw, helpless sound she makes when I push he
EveThe days bleed into one another, measured not by hours, but by the rise and fall of the sun and the rhythm of Dominik’s body inside mine. There are no clocks here. No schedules. No world outside the perimeter of this perfect, suffocating island. My old life, my plans for revenge, the data I memorized, it all feels like a dream I had a lifetime ago. The only reality is the sun, the sea, and him.I wake up with the taste of salt in the air and the heavy weight of his arm across my waist. My body is a constant, low-level ache, a hum of soreness
DominikThe low hum of the Gulfstream’s engines is the only sound between us. It’s a cocoon of pressurized air and expensive leather, hurtling us thousands of miles away from the world we usually inhabit. I watch Eve as she stares out the small, oval window at the endless expanse of blue sky and white clouds.She’s been quiet since we left the house. A tense, simmering silence that is far more interesting
EveFive hours.The words echo in the silent suite, a death sentence delivered with a smile. Five hours until I’m to be transported from this curated existence to another, more beautiful, more isolated game board. A honeymoon. The word is a vile, twisted mockery of what this trip represents. There is no love, no ce
DominikDawn bleeds across the sky in muted shades of grey and rose, the light creeping into the suite and falling across the bed. It illuminates the aftermath of our war. The sheets are completely
EveMy body is a battlefield, and Dominik is the only victor.I lie collapsed on the sheets, every part of me screaming. My ass is a canvas of stinging, bruised heat, a constant, humiliating reminder of the punishment I begged for. My insides are tender, my muscles trembling with a bone-deep exhaustion I’ve never known before I met him.







