I cut her off with a harsh kiss, silencing her words, but the implication hangs between us. She’s wanted this as much as I have, and I can feel our connection deepening with every thrust, every touch.
Her walls clench around me, signaling her impending release, and I know she’s close. I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, and begin to circle gently, sending her spiraling over the edge.
Liv cries out, her body tensing as her orgasm washes over her, her walls clenching around me like a vise. I thrust into her a few more times, my own release building as I feel her shaking beneath me.
“Remy,” she pants, her eyes glazed with pleasure. “I can’t—”
“I’ve got you, baby,” I assure her, my voice rough with my own need. “Just let go.”
Her body shudders as another orgasm overtakes her, her walls milking my cock, and I can’t hold back any longer. With a low groan, I spill inside her, my body shaking with the force of my release.
I collapse onto her, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I try to regain my bearings. I can feel her heart pounding beneath my chest, her body still shivering with the aftershocks of her pleasure.
I see her opening her mouth, probably about to give me one of her smart-mouth comments, but I cut her off with a kiss, my mouth devouring hers as I feel my cock twitch inside her, already eager for more.
I pull back slightly, studying Eve’s flushed face, her lips swollen from my kisses. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her body still trembling beneath mine. She’s beautiful like this—spent, satisfied, vulnerable. But I’m far from done with her.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” I murmur against her neck, nipping at her sensitive skin. “This is just the beginning of what I have planned for you.”
She tries to shift away, but I hold her firmly in place. Her defiance, even now, amuses me. Always trying to maintain control, even when she’s completely at my mercy.
“You think this makes us even?” she asks, her voice hoarse.
I laugh darkly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “Oh no, Eve. Eight years of planning my revenge… you really think I’d settle for just one night?”
Chapter 15
I extract myself from the silk sheets, careful not to disturb Remy’s steady breathing beside me. My skin tingles where his fingers traced paths hours before, where his teeth marked territory across my neck and breasts.
The cool air bites against the warmth of his presence, still pressed into me, stamped onto my skin like a brand. I swallow hard, trying to shake the bruising realization that he lingers, even when he’s not holding me down.
Everything feels sharper in this hour, where Chicago pulses but doesn’t sleep. Rain from sometime in the night streaks down the glass, distorting the lights below into jagged rivers of color. I shouldn’t hear my heartbeat over the murmur of the city, but I do—a drumbeat of weakness.
I glance over my shoulder at Remy. He lies sprawled on his side, his breathing slow and steady. The tension he wears like armor in waking moments slips as he drifts here in the dark. Even asleep, his presence knots something deep in my chest.I don’t want to look at him—not like this, vulnerable, almost human. But I can’t unsee him. My eyes linger, taking him in—the bare cut of his shoulder, the faint crease of his brow even now, his mouth slightly parted.
It’s infuriating. How easily the man can switch between predator and lover without losing momentum. I cover my face with my hands and exhale into my palms. That look in his eye earlier, the claim that burned through every kiss, every breathless demand he drew from me until I wasn’t sure what I had left to fight him with.
Idiot. I’ve questioned everything else—his motives, his plans, his endgame—everything butme.One night, one moment of tangled limbs and ragged breaths, and suddenly, my body forgets the lesson I’ve relearned a thousand times: men like Remy Harding don’t offer protection unless it’s laced with control and consequences. And what did I do? I reached for him like he wouldn’t pull me down with him.
The thought makes me sick. But it’s not just him. It’s Roberto, lying lifeless in that restaurant. His face flashes again in my mind—defiant, unshaken. The words he didn’t have time to say, the promise I didn’t deserve.
I shake off the stabbing ache in my chest. Focus. I can’t afford the luxury of looking anywhere but forward.
I pull Remy’s shirt from the floor and put it on as I drift toward the window. Cool glass meets my fingertips as I press lightly against it, watching the city sprawl in organized chaos below. Somewhere out there, Ano Montoni’s labyrinth breathes fire. He’s hunting me—sending his professional shadows while I stand here indulging stolen moments of warmth. I tighten my jaw.
The evidence. Every piece of blood-stained cargo, every ledger and signature—the weight of it burns heavier than the bruisesRemy pressed into my skin. It’s all I have now, allwehave if I count Roberto’s sacrifice in the pile he left behind.
I padded across the room before closing the bathroom door with a quiet click, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. The marble floor chills my bare feet as I step toward the mirror, my reflection stark.
“Jesus.” The whisper escapes before I can catch it.
My fingers trace the constellation of marks spanning my collarbone down to where his shirt hangs loose on my frame. Purple-red blooms dot my neck, my shoulders bearing the imprint of his grip. When I push the fabric aside, I find more evidence of his possession painted across my skin—beard burns along my breasts, the shadow of his teeth at my hip.
The woman in the mirror looks claimed, marked, and owned. My stomach twists. This isn’t me—this reckless surrender, this weakness. But the heat pulses beneath each bruise, a reminder that my body betrayed my better judgment.
Roberto’s face flashes in my mind, and bile rises in my throat. He died protecting me, believing in our mission, while I’m here letting Remy—
I grip the counter, forcing air into my lungs. Roberto’s final moments replay behind my eyes—his desperate shove, the lock clicking shut, darkness swallowing his footsteps as he led the killers away. I never saw his body, but I know. The truth sits like lead in my gut.
