Todos os capítulos de Midnight Sins: A Spicy Compilation: Capítulo 161 - Capítulo 170

The flashbulbs were a dizzying, rhythmic assault, but they were nothing compared to the ego of the man standing next to me. Even after two years apart, Sterling still had that way of making the air in the room feel like it belonged entirely to him. He was the golden boy of the box office now, a jawline carved from granite and a soul made of pure, unadulterated vanity. He'd sent the invite to the premiere with a single note: Don't be late, Maren. I want you to see what you walked away from.I was wearing a dress that cost more than my car, a shimmering slip of black silk that felt like a second skin. As we walked the red carpet, his hand was a heavy, possessive weight on the small of my back. He leaned in, his breath smelling of expensive bourbon and peppermint."Smile for the cameras, darling," Sterling murmured, his voice that low, cinematic baritone that made millions of women weak. "They want to see the woman who used to have the privilege of waking up next to me. Try not to look s

The Manning estate was a monument to old money and dying affection. My uniform-a starch-collared, form-fitting black dress with a scandalously short hemline-was a calculated choice. I had been hired three weeks ago by Camille to act as her "eyes and ears." She was convinced her husband, Garrett, was spending his late nights in the city doing more than just closing mergers. She wanted proof. She wanted leverage. What she didn't realize was that I was the one holding all the cards. I found Camille in the master suite, draped across a velvet chaise lounge, a half-empty glass of Sancerre in her hand. The afternoon sun was dying, casting long, bruised shadows across the room. She looked fragile, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed but her eyes rimmed with the red of a quiet breakdown. "He didn't call, did he, Mira?" she asked, her voice brittle. "He's in a board meeting, ma'am," I lied smoothly, stepping behind her to massage her shoulders. My fingers were strong, practiced. I felt th

The afternoon sun had completely vanished, leaving the master suite in a state of luxurious, velvet-draped twilight. Camille was still trembling on the chaise, her breath hitching as she looked at me with a mixture of terror and awe. I didn't give her the comfort of a soft touch yet; I wanted her to simmer in the realization that a servant had just dismantled her dignity more effectively than her husband ever had. I stood over her, the power dynamic in the room shifting so violently it was almost tangible."Mira..." she whispered, her voice a ragged thread, her chest heaving under the silk of her robe. "I didn't... I didn't know I could feel like that. I've never...""You've been starved, Camille," I said, my voice smooth and clinical as I knelt before her again, my knees sinking into the plush rug. I reached up and unbuttoned the top three buttons of my uniform, exposing the black lace of my bra and the swell of my breasts. "And a hungry woman is a dangerous thing. Garrett has le

The morning sun was too bright, a clinical light that exposed the cracks in the Manning facade. I had spent the early hours moving through the house like a ghost, cleaning the study with a calculated lack of thoroughness. I left a single, blonde hair on the leather chair-not mine, but one I'd plucked from Camille's brush-and a faint smear of my lipstick on the rim of Garrett's scotch glass. I wanted the friction between them to reach a boiling point. I wanted to see who would break first.By the time I brought the breakfast tray to the terrace, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Camille was staring at her untouched grapefruit, her eyes darting to Garrett, who was buried in the financial section of the Times."Garrett," Camille said, her voice trembling. "I found something in your study this morning. A pair of silk panties. They weren't mine."Garrett didn't look up from his paper, but his jaw tightened. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Camille. Perhaps you misplaced t

The fire had retreated to a dull, pulsing orange glow, casting long, skeletal shadows against the log walls. The cold was a physical predator, pacing the perimeter of the room, but the heat under the wool blankets was stifling. Elias lay on his back, his chest rising and falling in a slow, heavy rhythm, while Briony stared at the ceiling, her body still humming with the aftershocks of his intrusion."My father didn't just lose that land in a poker game, Briony," Elias said suddenly, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that cut through the whistling wind.Briony shifted, the movement causing the dried fluids between her thighs to itch. "What are you talking about?""The reason I've spent ten years trying to buy back every acre your family owns," he said, turning his head to look at her. His eyes were dark pits of ancient resentment. "Your grandfather knew my old man was desperate. He knew the bank was closing in. He didn't just buy the deed; he forced my father to sign a confession of