All Chapters of Sinful Seduction (Exotica Collection): Chapter 271 - Chapter 280

The elevator doors glided open with a soft chime, and Layla stepped into the cold, echoing corridor of the 25th floor, her heels clicking against the marble like a warning. She clutched her purse tighter, adjusted the lapels of her blazer, and exhaled sharply. This was it. Her third interview this week. Her final shot at landing a job before rent was due and reality swallowed her whole.The receptionist barely looked up as she directed her toward the large glass doors at the end of the hall.“Wait inside. They’ll be with you shortly.”Layla smoothed her skirt and pushed through the heavy doors into a sleek boardroom bathed in natural light. The skyline of Lagos glittered behind the tall windows, but her eyes weren’t drawn to the view.They were drawn to the man.He sat alone at the far end of the room, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Salt-and-pepper hair framed a chiseled face that looked like it had seen war and survived i

The company retreat was held in a sprawling beach villa two hours outside the city — a sleek, glass-walled escape nestled along the Atlantic coast. Layla barely had time to pack before she was shoved onto a shuttle bus with other junior staff, all of them buzzing with excitement. She, however, felt nothing but nerves.Because she knew he would be there.And so would his wife.From the moment she stepped off the bus, Layla sensed something was different. The air was humid with salt and heat, but it wasn’t just the ocean that made her skin feel tight. Dorian’s eyes met hers the second she walked through the villa doors, a brief flicker, like a match struck in darkness. He said nothing. He didn’t need to.He was wearing black linen. Relaxed. Hands in pockets. Watching her like a decision he had already made.Temi greeted the team with her signature grace, assigning rooms and outlining the schedule of activities. Her hand rested lightly on Dorian’s chest the whole time, like a brand. Layl

The house was quiet. Too quiet.Sienna lay on her back in the dark, her eyes tracing the ceiling. The rain had stopped, but the silence that followed was louder than any storm. Her husband’s breathing was deep and steady beside her, his back turned. Even when he was home, it always felt like he wasn’t.And she hated how much she was waiting.Waiting for the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.Waiting for the shadow that lived in her head now.Waiting for Adrian.She had spent the last three nights trying to erase the way his fingers felt inside her. The way he looked at her like she wasn’t someone else’s wife but his personal sin. She couldn’t stop replaying it in her head. The heat. The danger. The thrill of almost being caught.When the soft vibration of her phone lit up the nightstand, her pulse spiked. She grabbed it fast, careful not to wake her husband.Adrian: “Come to the kitchen. Now.”Her breath caught.She stared at the glowing screen. She should delete it. She should

Sienna stared at the bathroom mirror, the steam from the hot shower fogging the glass, blurring the woman she used to be. She had crossed lines she could never uncross.The thrill had become a living thing inside her chest. It pulsed louder every time she let him in, every time she felt him against her skin while her husband slept above them. She was addicted, and addictions never ended clean.The phone buzzed against the counter.She didn’t need to look. She already knew who it was.Adrian: “One last night. My place. No excuses.”Her fingers hovered over the screen. She should say no. She should end it here, before everything burned down.But her body was already making the decision her mind refused to.—His apartment was nothing like her home.Dark. Bare. A few books stacked on a shelf. A bed pushed up against the wall. No warmth. No softness. Just like him.The door was unlocked. He was waiting inside. Shirtless. His jeans hung low, revealing the sharp lines of his hips. His tatto

The next time she walked into the clinic, it wasn’t through the main entrance.He had sent her a message with a short instruction: use the side door. No greeting. No time. Just an order.The hallway behind the side door was different from the one she had known. It was dim, colder, quieter. The lights hummed softly, and the walls were bare. This wasn’t the public part of the clinic. This was where he did the kind of things no one could witness.At the end of the corridor, a single room waited. Its door was already open.He stood inside wearing the same white coat as before, but this time it wasn’t buttoned. The sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. His stethoscope was gone. The look in his eyes was sharper than it had been that first night.“Close the door,” he said.She did.The click of the lock was louder this time. Her stomach fluttered at the sound.“Climb onto the table,” he instructed.The examination table in this room was different. It wasn’t metal like the one in the regula