After we washed and caressed each other in the silence of the erotic aftermath, crawling into the sheets, sinking into the cool fabric, my body still trembling in little aftershocks. James followed, sliding in on the other side, his arm brushing mine. For a moment, I felt awkward, unsure, but then Calla slipped between us, drawing both our heads to her chest.
The three of us lay tangled, her fingers stroking through my hair on one side, through his on the other. The silence wasn’t heavy; it was full, safe, grounding.
“You belong to me,” she said, softer now, more like a promise than a command. “But don’t forget,” her fingers squeezed lightly in both our hair, “I belong to you too.”
Tears slid down my temple before I could stop them. James pressed closer, his arm brushing mine, his hand finding my wrist under the sheets like he needed the same tether.
Calla kissed the top of my head, then his. “Sleep,” she murmured. “Tomorrow, the world can have us back. Tonight, it was all about us.”
The diamonds at my throat pressed lightly against her nude body, her heartbeat steady beneath my cheek. Tonight I let go completely, not trembling from arousal or denial, but from the overwhelming relief of being held.
And as sleep tugged at me, I realized: the release hadn’t just been physical. It was deeper. She’d taken us apart only to put us back together, bound tighter and steadier, mentally and emotionally.
UNMASKED
Monday sunlight cut across my desk like a blade. I’d been trying to focus on a proposal draft, still floating on the calm that lingered after the gala, after them, Amiyah and James. I could still taste them on my tongue, feel their worship and obedience surging through my body, making my thighs clinch and my clit thump. For a fleeting weekend, life had felt balanced, whole.
Then the office door opened without a knock.
Caleb Black Sr. filled the doorway, still broad-shouldered and immaculately pressed, the kind of man who carried his arrogance like cheap cologne, overpowering, nauseating, and impossible to ignore.
“Dad.” My voice came out flatter than I intended.
“Sweetheart,” he said, smiling like the word didn’t taste sour in his mouth. “You look surprised.”
“I am. My assistant didn’t tell me you had an appointment.”
He waved that away and stepped inside. “We don’t need appointments, do we? Family doesn’t stand on ceremony.”
Every nerve in my body went rigid. “We do when you’re here for self-serving reasons, and in my building.”
He sat, uninvited, and crossed his legs with the entitlement of a man who’d never been told no.
“I wanted to congratulate you. You’ve built quite the empire since you took over as a fill-in for me. Makes a father proud to watch his protege corner new markets and dominate them.”
I folded my hands to keep from trembling. “Get to the point.”
He gave a thin laugh, the coldness of it unmasking her true intentions. “You’ve always been so impatient, fine. Your brother has made it clear he won’t take my calls, and the board’s being shortsighted. But you? People listen to you. I need you to talk some sense into your brother. Convince him to bring me back into the company, or at least help me remind the board what loyalty looks like.”
“No.”
His smile froze. “No?”
“No,” I repeated. “Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not your pawn.”
The fraudulent warmth drained from his eyes. “You’d turn your back on your own father?”
“You stopped being a father when you started using your children as leverage to do harm,” I said quietly.
The mask slipped. His voice turned hard and familiar.
“You ungrateful little bitch. You think you got here on talent? You were handed every advantage because of me.”
“I earned everything I have.”
He snorted. “Earned? You’ve been riding the family name your whole life. Without me, you’d still be that scared little girl hiding behind your mother’s skirt.”
“Better that than a man hiding behind his bullshit lies.”
