All Chapters of His Dirty Little Secret : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Cassidy’s POV I wasn’t supposed to be home. Not at ten minutes past four, just as the ugly fingers of sunlight knifed through slashed curtains. I should have been anywhere but here—at the studio, cursing my professor’s last lecture, anything, anything but retracing my steps to this apartment because I’d forgotten that damn sketchbook. The world breaks on one tiny detail. One careless, forgetful mistake. Ironic. The elevator rides up slow, groaning so loud I almost expect the ancient cables to snap. I don’t notice the smell—the second-hand perfume and cigarette stench—until I reach our floor, my sneakers squeaking against the scarred linoleum. I don’t knock. Of course I don’t. This place is my prison and my sanctuary, depending on the hour. The chipped paint, the warped door, the way her house keys always jam in the lock. Mine, not hers. The hallway stretches, impossibly silent. I can hear my heart in my ears. I push open my door, thinking only of deadlines, midterms, the caffein

Cassidy’s POVI could feel my heartbeat pounding, so loud that for a moment I thought the club’s speakers had synced their bass to the jagged rhythm inside my chest. Dante’s hands anchored me—possessive, coaxing, the kind of touch that could only come from someone who knew exactly what they wanted and had never been told no.People moved around us in a hazy blur, lights spinning, shadows sliding along skin and velvet. We didn’t exist for them, and they sure as hell didn’t exist for me—not with Dante standing this close, looking at me like he was memorizing every flicker of pain or want on my face.His palm settled at the small of my back, so hot through my thin crop top I almost whimpered. His thumb traced lazy circles, grounding me in the tornado of music and memory.I sucked in a breath, desperate for air. He smelled like expensive cologne, whiskey, rain, and something wild I couldn’t name. All man. All danger.Every part of me was trembling—fear, anticipation, longing. His gaze was

Cassidy’s POVMy eyelids fluttered open to a world that didn’t make sense—blinding sunlight pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting off sleek glass and polished marble like some kind of dreamscape. My body felt heavy, sore in places I hadn’t known could ache so sweetly, every inch of me humming with echoes of touches, thrusts, and whispered promises. The sheets were tangled around my legs, cool and luxurious, smelling of sweat, sex, and something darkly masculine that made my stomach twist with a mix of heat and confusion.For a split second, panic clawed at my chest. Was last night a dream? Some feverish hallucination born from betrayal and too many shots? The club’s throbbing bass, the stranger’s velvet voice, the way he’d claimed me on the dance floor and then in his bed—it all felt too vivid, too impossible. My heart hammered as I bolted upright, clutching the sheet to my chest, scanning the room wildly. Empty coffee cups on a nightstand. My clothes strewn across the

Cassidy's POV He leaned over me, his chest against my back, lips at my ear. “You like that, don’t you? Taking me everywhere. So fucking dirty and perfect.” “Yes—god, yes,” I panted, meeting his thrusts. He sped up, the room filling with the sounds of our bodies slapping together, my moans growing louder. His fingers pinched my clit just right, and I exploded, the orgasm ripping through me like fire, clenching around him in waves that left me shaking. Dante followed seconds later, burying himself deep with a guttural roar, his release pulsing inside me. We collapsed in a heap, breathless and spent, his arms wrapping around me from behind. “Fuck, Cassidy,” he whispered, kissing my shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me.” I laughed weakly, turning in his arms to face him. “Worth it.” We lay there for what felt like hours, tangled in each other, trading soft kisses and whispered secrets. He told me more about his childhood—the lonely nights after his mom’s death, how he’

Cassidy’s POVI didn’t wait for her to spit more venom. I shoved past Jason, my shoulder clipping his hard enough to make him stumble, and stormed out the door. The hallway blurred as I descended the stairs two at a time, my duffel bag thumping against my hip like a heartbeat—frantic, unsteady. Outside, the city air hit me, crisp and unforgiving, but it was freedom. No more stale smoke, no more lies tangled in the sheets. Just me, broken but breathing.Dante’s car was long gone, the curb empty where he’d idled, his hand warm on my thigh during the silent drive. I could still feel the ghost of his touch, the way his fingers had dug in possessively, like he was marking me even then. My phone buzzed in my pocket as I hailed a cab—probably Jason with some pathetic apology text. I ignored it, sliding into the back seat and giving the driver the first address that popped into my head: a cheap motel on the edge of downtown, the kind with flickering neon signs and no questions asked.The ride