Who said Paris was the Goddess of love?

Michael's POV

I gripped the bedsheets as I gritted my teeth and buried my face into the soft mattress, feeling Marlo’s sweat falling on my back and soft moans escaping his lips while he continued thrusting with more strength than necessary.

"Fuck, you're so tight" he said.

I bit back the pain that was building within me and tried my best to endure whatever pain I could feel in my hole.

This was all a means to an end.

Before I could process my thoughts any further, he turned me around, his muscular arms wrapping around me.

He knelt on the bed and raised me to sit on his hard cock. I stared at him, wondering what sex position he intended to do this time.

After spending more than twenty minutes servicing his dick and nipples, I was already exhausted.

He wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back on his hand and gave me one the ugliest smirk I have ever seen escape the lips of a man.

"Ride me until I burst inside you" Marlo said, his breath resting on my face.

He brought his lips to mine and I tried to avoid whatever he planned to do, but I wasn’t fast enough.

Marlo sucked my lower lip while his tongue evaded my mouth and ran around my walls.

"That's enough" I whispered, my disgust beginning to show no matter how much I tried to hide it.

Thankfully, he released his hold on my lips and laid back, his hands placed behind his head as his eyes told me to begin the task he has given to me.

Ugh.

In the darkness, I rolled my eyes, my anger almost simmering beneath the surface.

I raised my knees and instead of kneeling down, I squatted over his dick, my momentum building.

I began slowly at first then increased my speed and watched as Marlo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstacy.

His moans filled my ears and although I hated having sex with him, the fact that I held this much power over him at this instant was enough to make a smile appear on my face.

"I'm close. I'm going to cum" he said.

He attempted to jerk me off but I threw his hand away from my throbbing dick and allowed him to reach climax.

Finally, it was over.

I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths.

The sheets beneath me were damp with sweat, but the warmth of Marlo’s body next to mine made my skin crawl.

The room smelled of sweat and whiskey, of regret and desperation.

I turned my head slightly, watching him sleep, his face relaxed in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. He looked peaceful—satisfied. Meanwhile, I felt nothing but irritation gnawing at the edges of my patience.

I hadn’t wanted this. I hadn’t enjoyed a single second of it. But I had needed to do it.

Marlo wasn’t just another of Fernando Ramirez’s men—he was one of his highest-ranking lieutenants.

He was a man with influence. A man with access. And that access was exactly what I, as well as the FBI, needed if I wanted to bring Fernando down.

Fernando Ramirez.

Just thinking his name sent a rush of fury through me.

His Mafia crime family had spread like a plague across the city, untouchable, operating in the shadows while law enforcement remained powerless.

My sister—my only family—had been caught in his violence and she lost her life. A victim of his greed, his brutality. She hadn’t deserved it. She hadn’t deserved any of it.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my thoughts back to the present.

Dwelling on the past wouldn’t help me now.

Right now, my priority was getting to that exclusive party Fernando was throwing in a few days. Only his most trusted men would be allowed inside, and Marlo was one of them. That’s why I had done this.

But now, I needed Marlo to wake the hell up.

I nudged him with my elbow.

“Hey.”

He didn’t stir.

I frowned, shifting to my side and shaking his shoulder.

“Marlo.”

A tired groan escaped his lips, but he barely opened his eyes. His arm was placed lazily over his stomach, his breathing slow and deep.

“Marlo, wake up,” I tried again, this time a little more forceful. “We had a deal, remember?”

Nothing.

I rolled my eyes, frustration bubbling in my chest.

“You said you would help me get in,” I reminded him, keeping my voice even. “I need that tag. You said you would vouch for me.”

Marlo mumbled something that sounded like nonsense, shifting slightly before settling back into sleep.

Useless.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair.

There was no point in trying to reason with him right now.

He was out cold, probably from the alcohol he had drank earlier.

I would have to handle this myself.

My eyes flicked to the bedside table where his identification tag lay—his ticket to the party.

His access to Fernando.

Carefully, I slid out of bed, moving with the precision of a trained agent.

My muscles were tense as I reached for the tag, keeping my movements slow, deliberate.

One wrong move, and I would wake him.

The metal tag was cool against my fingertips as I picked it up, slipping it into the pocket of my discarded jeans on the floor.

I dressed quickly, shoving my arms into my shirt, buttoning it hastily.

As I reached for the door, my heart pounded with a mix of adrenaline and anticipation.

I had done it. I had what I needed.

But the moment I pulled the door open, every cell in my body froze.

Standing in the doorway, his figure looming in the dimly lit hallway, was Fernando Ramirez.

His dark eyes locked onto mine, unreadable, terrifyingly calm.

He was taller than I expected, broader, his presence suffocating.

The air around him felt heavy, charged with something dangerous.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

His lips curled slightly—not quite a smirk, but something close.

“Well, well well,” he said, his voice deep, smooth, laced with quiet authority. “Going somewhere?”

My heart slammed against my ribs, but I forced my face to remain neutral, my mind racing.

I was in trouble.

Big trouble.