Chapter 10 The warehouse was a furnace. Stale heat clung to the air, thick with the stench of sweat, rusted metal, and the sharp tang of blood-old and fresh. The guy tied to the chair had stopped begging twenty minutes ago. Now, all that came out of him were guttural groans, each one punched loose whenever Priest's fist found bone. His left eye was swollen shut, the right glazed over, unseeing. His shirt clung to his chest, soaked through with sweat and blood, the dark fabric glistening under the flickering overhead light. A steady drip fell from his chin, splattering onto the concrete like it had always belonged there. Priest didn't look angry. Just steady. Methodical. Like a man balancing his checkbook. "You lied to me," he repeated, voice low, almost gentle. The guy twitched, his broken jaw working uselessly. No words left in him. Just a wet, rattling breath. Priest sighed, turned, and picked up the pliers. I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, my suit jacket long discarded, sleeves rolled up past my forearms. Normally, I'd be in the thick of it. Normally, I'd be the one peeling back flesh until secrets spilled out. But my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. There was a photo of Maya. Her kitchen was in the background, her hair piled up in that messy knot. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, fingers tugging at the hem of that thin sleep shirt-just high enough to tease a strip of smooth, dark skin over her thick thighs. I groaned. Looking at her gave me heart palpitations. There was a message: "I want cake. From the spot you always go to." A smirk tugged at my mouth. Just a flicker. I tucked the phone back into my pocket. This wasn't the time for that. About five minutes later, another buzz. Another message. "I said I want cake." Then there was another selfie. Her mouth in full pout. Arms crossed. Eyes narrowed like she was two seconds from throwing a tantrum. She was so cute. I thumbed out a reply: "Order it for delivery. Use my card." Her response was instant. Another picture. Face scrunched up like a pissed-off kitten. No words needed. She wanted me to bring her the cake. I wasn't going to. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket. I had been spending too much time with her. Time bred attachment. And attachment bred stupidity. I'd promised myself I wouldn't let that happen. Wouldn't fall into the soft parts of her. Priest stepped back from the chair, drawing my attention, wiping his hands on a stained towel. "He's not talking." "He's not going to," I muttered. I couldn't even remember why the guy was tied to the chair, actually. I pushed off the wall, strode forward, pulled my gun, and put a bullet between his eyes. His body sagged, the chair creaking under the sudden dead weight. I turned for the door. "Where are you going?" Priest asked, drying his hands like we were standing in some fucking diner instead of a slaughterhouse. "I've got somewhere to be." He studied me for a beat, then dropped his voice. "I like you, Raziel." I paused. "But if my wife's sister gets hurt-" "I don't know what you're talking about." I cut him off. He moved closer, the weight of his threat pressing between us. "You don't have to say it. Just hear me." I didn't answer. There was nothing to discuss. Whatever was between me and Maya would burn out sooner or later. I hoped. But then, realistically... Maya wasn't built for moderation. I walked out. I pulled up to her place less than an hour later with the cake box in the passenger seat and my jaw clenched tight. I indulged her too much. It was the third time I'd come by her place after being beckoned-since the bike. She opened the door before I could knock. "Oh my God," she grinned, then jumped straight into my arms. I caught her easily, cake box pressed between us, her legs wrapping around my waist. "You got it!" She kissed my cheek, then my jaw, then down the side of my neck. I exhaled hard, gripping her thighs, trying not to react-but my dick twitched anyway. Her energy made me feel reckless. Unbalanced. Like I wasn't in control of anything-not my body, not my breath, not the thoughts running wild in my head. "Relax," I muttered, but my voice came out rougher than I meant. I carried her and the damn cake inside, dropped both onto the couch like I was setting down something hot. She slid off me, barefoot, smiling like she knew what she was doing. "You're so nice to me, Ra." "Mm-hmm," I muttered. She popped the box open, picked up the cupcake-sized personal cake, and took a huge bite, eyes fluttering shut. "Why you eat so many sweets?" I asked. Her cabinets were filled with all types of cookies and candies. I watched her. She looked like something dangerous and edible at the same time. She licked frosting off her finger, slowly. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Because it keeps me from doing drugs," she said. Then her voice dropped, real quiet, real flat. "Because when I'm chewing, I'm not snorting. When my mouth is full, I'm not thinking about pills or powder or who I used to be when I was high all the time." She scraped another bite of cake and didn't look at me. "It's stupid, I know. But sugar hits that same part of your brain, gives you a little rush. Not the same, but close enough to shut the itch up for a while." She finally glanced up, expression unreadable. "So yeah, I eat cake. Cookies. Shit I don't even like sometimes. Because it keeps me from going back. And going back... would kill me." I didn't say anything. Just watched her. I swallowed. That hit harder than I expected. The moment felt too heavy, and I could suddenly feel the melancholy wafting off her. I gripped her jaw, forcing her to look at me. Her face-gently but firmly-tilted up. "How you gonna repay me then?" She smirked. "I can show you better than I can tell you." She gave me a devious smile. I'm pretty sure it was the same smile Eve gave Adam. Or Delilah gave Samson. Or Helen gave Paris right before the world went to war. And I was no better man than any of them- I knew better. I saw the warning signs. Felt the fire at my heels. Heard the voice in my head telling me to walk away. I wasn't blaming or implicating because I was being a fool, though. Eve, Delilah, Helen- they didn't force those men to fall. They just gave them the chance. And I took mine with both hands. Knowing damn well it might burn everything down. And not giving a fuck. She pushed me back onto the couch and climbed into my lap, and I did nothing to stop her. A man led by his desire is already halfway ruined. Why not let her fire consume the rest? Her hands slid off my suit jacket first, tossing it somewhere behind the sofa. Then she loosened my tie, slow and deliberate, eyes locked on mine the whole time. I didn't blink. She undid my shirt, one button at a time, dragging her fingertips down my chest as each one opened. Then she wrapped the tie around my wrists. "Don't touch me," she whispered. It didn't sound as mean or as broken as the first time she said it. My breathing changed. She heard it-and chuckled, low and dark. Then she kissed my neck, open-mouthed. Her lips traced my jaw, then lower, her tongue flicking across my collarbone, over my chest. It was slow. Tortured. My fists clenched. My legs shifted beneath her, dick already hard under my pants, pressing up between her thighs. "You always stay this obedient?" she whispered. "No." She smiled. Then licked the corner of my mouth, slow and taunting. I broke the tie. Grabbed her. Kissed her, hard. She responded instantly-tongue slipping into my mouth, tasting sweet like the frosting. She pushed me back onto the couch, straddling me, her hips grinding against my dick through our clothes. I groaned, grabbing her ass, pulling her harder against me. She pulled away, grinning, and stood up, slowly peeling her shirt over her head, revealing her perfect tits, nipples already hard. "I need access to your dick to reward you," she said, eyes challenging. I stood up, pulled off my shirt. She ran her hands over my chest, nails dragging just enough to sting. I grabbed her, pulled her close, kissed her again. Our tongues tangled, hands roaming. She moaned into my mouth, and I knew I couldn't wait. I pushed her back onto the couch, pulling her panties off in one swift motion. She was already wet, her pussy glistening in the dim light. I ran my hands over her breasts, her belly, teasing her, making her squirm. "Fuck, Raziel," she gasped, hips bucking. The need to be inside her crawled around underneath my skin like ants. I positioned myself between her legs and thrust inside her, hard. She cried out. Tight. Wet. Perfect. I moved slow at first, then faster. Harder. Our bodies slapping together, the sound echoing through the room. She wrapped her legs around me, pulled me closer, heels digging into my ass. "Fuck, yes," she moaned, nails raking my back. I leaned down, kissed her deep. Her pussy clenched around me-tight and pulsing. I reached down, rubbed her clit. She came hard, crying out my name, body shaking under me. I followed seconds later, groaning as I filled her up. We collapsed together, panting. Skin slick. Her smile lazy, eyes still hungry. "Was that payment enough?" she teased. I smirked, leaned down, kissed her again. "You should stay," she said, looking at me with those big eyes. I knew Alessia was waiting at my house. "If you're paying interest," I said, "I'll stay." Five-year-old Annie, who can understand animals, saved Landon Hawthorne, a wealthy businessman, from suicide. Now she's his whole world and he's her legal cheat-code against every villain fate throws ...