Luffy Images

WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS RAW MATURE CONTENT. I watched him kill three men without breaking a sweat. Now I'm trapped on an island with him. My crime? Walking two blocks alone in New York City. My punishment? Zade Konstantin—a killer with silver eyes who looks at me like I'm both precious and prey. My father's enemies want me. Not dead. Alive. To torture, break, and send back in pieces. I've seen the photographs of what they do to mafia daughters. The images haunt my nightmares. So now I'm hidden away on a Greek island with the most dangerous man I've ever met. He's supposed to protect me. Keep me safe. Maintain professional distance. Except the way he watches me isn't professional. The way his hands shake when he touches me during training? That's not distant. The way he groans my name through the bathroom door when he thinks I can't hear? That's definitely not just a job. I should hate him. He stalked me for weeks. Put a bag over my head. Drugged me. Made every decision about my life without asking. What starts as hate becomes hunger. Forbidden touches in the moonlight. His mouth on my skin. My body surrendering to desires I didn't know I had. He's teaching me that good girls can want dark things. That cages lined with passion are still cages. That falling for your captor might be the most dangerous game of all. Until I realize the man inside me, the man I'm falling for, has been my betrayal from the very beginning. Some men protect you. Some men destroy you. Zade Konstantin does both.

His gaze pinned me against the wall, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me, Little Dove… you feel something for me, don’t you? No more dodging. I want a clear answer.” “Why? B-but I'm your brother's wife.” I managed, my voice steady despite the thundering in my chest. “Fuck that. I want a straightforward answer, so my stance can be clear,” he murmured, leaning in, lips hovering over mine. “Either to steal you from my brother, or…” “Or get over me?” I whispered. He pulled back sharply, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously. “No. Either to steal you from my brother… or take him out of the picture." I stared at him in shock and disbelief. ********************* “I’m going to tell you what I have in mind,” he murmured. “First you’re going to strip down until you’re completely naked,” he whispered against my ear. “Then I’m going to tie you up so you’re completely powerless and subject to my every whim.” “Then I’m going to insert a plug to prepare you for me. After that, I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours until it’s rosy with my marks.” I shivered uncontrollably, my mind exploding with the images he evoked. I let out a small whimper as he sucked the lobe of my ear into his mouth. God, I could cum with just his words. I was already aching with need. My nipples tingled and hardened to painful points. My clit pulsed and twitched between my legs until I clamped my thighs together to alleviate the burn. I’m going to take you hard and rough, to the very limits of what you can withstand. I won’t be gentle. Are you ready to be completely dominated?"

Clara n'est pas venue au lac par hasard. Elle fuit. À trente ans, elle a tout perdu : son père trop tôt, sa mère hier, et jusqu'à sa capacité d'aimer, assassinée par un homme qui l'a trahie. Photographe de l'éphémère, elle ne croit plus qu'aux images figées, à la beauté morte, à la solitude choisie. Le chalet de sa mère, au bord du lac de Noirceval, doit être sa dernière étape avant l'effacement. Mais le lac a d'autres plans. Car sous ses eaux noires, depuis cent vingt-six ans, un homme attend. Gabriel. Noyé la veille de ses noces en 1898, condamné par une malédiction ancienne à errer entre deux mondes, visible seulement de ceux qui portent en eux une blessure assez profonde pour voir l'invisible. Chaque pleine lune, il émerge et marche sur l'eau, cherchant désespérément un regard qui le reconnaisse. Depuis cent vingt-six ans, personne ne l'a vu. Personne ne lui a parlé. Personne ne lui a souri. Jusqu'à Clara. La première nuit où elle le voit, Clara croit devenir folle. Un homme sur l'eau ? Des vêtements d'un autre siècle ? Elle veut fuir, mais ses jambes refusent. Lui s'approche, et quand il parle, sa voix est celle d'un homme qui a désappris l'usage des mots. "Tu me vois ?" demande-t-il. "Je te vois", répond-elle. Et ce simple aveu change tout. Ils parlent jusqu'à l'aube. Il raconte 1898, Élodie, la barque, la noyade, la malédiction. Elle raconte Paris, les reportages, la trahison de Simon, la mort de sa mère. Deux solitudes qui se rencontrent à la frontière du réel. Quand le soleil se lève, il doit plonger. Mais il reviendra. La prochaine pleine lune. Et l'autre après. Et l'autre encore.