“How did this happen, Dasha? I’m not a fool to see you as some innocent angel who could do no wrong. You are mine and your mother’s daughter after all, but this, I can’t wrap my head around,” he says, sombrely shaking his head. I walk over and pull out the chair beside him, taking my seat as I take his hand in mine. “Father I’m so, so sorry to have disappointed you. It was wrong and I was selfish, I never should have pursued him. I wish to God I could take it back. I’ve caused such a mess and I have no one to blame but myself,” I say, looking down shamefully. Gently he squeezes my hand and reaches out to lift my chin, his eyes looking at me with calm fatherly warmth, offering me a safe harbour from the emotions causing turmoil inside me. “When did this start?” he asks. I take in a calm breath and centre myself. “Two years ago. It was after one of the big mafia gatherings. There was drinking and flirting, and…I made my move,” I admit with unease. “And there was never anything befor

The moment is interrupted when we both hear a firm knock at the door. Silas is on his feet in an instant, his body rigid and alert leading me to roll my eyes at his attack dog stance. “If someone came all this way to kill me or us, I doubt they’d bother knocking on the door.” I walk over, look through the peephole and sigh when I see the calm face of my mother waiting patiently on the other side. This is likely to go about as well as a seal sunbathing on a block of ice with a hungry orca approaching. I unlock the door, brace myself and open it, gracing my mother with a warm smile. “Ciao, Mamma,” I greet her. "Ciao, Stellina,” she replies, stepping into the apartment and kissing my cheek. I close the door behind her as I observe her assessing the state of my place, her brows furrowing in consternation. While it may be cleaned up, it still looks like the aftermath of a hurricane. As she scans the room, her eyes fall on Silas, creasing at the corners in that familiar way they do whe

My body slips into a state of pure bliss as Silas’ fingers lightly travel up and down my bare back, his heart still racing beneath my ear as I lay against his chest drawing senseless patterns on his pectorals, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. “I’ve never had sex in my bed,” I spontaneously blurt out. Silas shifts to get a better look at me, surprise filling his features. “Never?” “This just always felt like my private space away from everything. I never wanted to share it with anyone.” “No one at all?” he asks suggestively. I roll my eyes. “If that was your not-so-subtle way of asking if Castor has been in my bed, the answer is no.” “Does this mean you trust me again?” “That would imply I trusted you at all,” I say lazily. “I suppose that’s fair,” he concedes, surprisingly satisfied by my response. His fingers resume moving up and down my spine, his touch feeling no lighter than a feather. It still astounds me that such deadly hands can be so gentle. “Do you trust me

The sound of dripping water stirs my senses as I feel myself coming to. My body feels cold, a fact only intensified by an unpleasant draft almost making my teeth chatter. I struggle to open my eyes, my surroundings appearing dark and blurry. I try to move only to groan in pain when I feel my movements restricted. It’s only by the second attempt to move my arms and legs that I realise I’ve been fucking hogtied. My head is throbbing along with a growing pressure in my skull that is making me feel nauseous. I’m pretty certain I have a concussion. I try to think about how I came to be here, but it’s all a blur. As I lay on this cold, dirty – what feels like concrete – floor, I try to get my eyes to focus. Eventually, they seem to adjust, and I can now see Silas, unconscious and hogtied just a few yards away. That’s when the fog seems to lift from my brain, and I remember the men who broke into my apartment. I’ve definitely seen Silas look worse, but he doesn’t look great. His lip is bust

I slowly step into a gorgeous two-story penthouse apartment with a surprisingly breathtaking view of the city skyline through wall-to-wall windows. The sun is almost entirely set, giving the white furnishing a stunning, electric purple and pink glow. As I go to take another step, I’m held in place by my pervy escort. He spreads my arms wide, kicking my legs apart as he begins to pat me down. Overly thorough if you ask me. I glare back at him as his hands cup my breasts. “One needs to be wearing a bra to hide something in it, Einstein.” Fucker couldn’t have done this before we got on the plane? Once satisfied that he’s violated me enough, the chauffeur disappears behind the elevator doors as I step further into the luxurious penthouse only to see a table for two set up just past the living space. I register the popping of a cork as I look towards the open kitchen, only to see Sathariel pouring two glasses of champagne. “I take it your journey here was comfortable,” he greets warmly