I gasp when my phone begins to ring, my eyes snapping wide as I stare down at it, fear coiling tightly around me. My body freezes, panic surging and spreading, stealing every scrap of control.
The ringing persists, so I force myself to move, trembling from head to toe, and lean in. My fingers shake as I snatch the phone, my thumb pressing the green button with a tentative, almost desperate motion. Slowly, I raise it to my ear, each second stretching unbearably.
Breathe, Estella. Just fucking breathe.
“I didn’t know it was possible—to see that you have nothing to say,” Dante’s voice drifts through me, carrying a dark, sinister tone. “And I amnotthe type of man who has much patience, not when it comes to you.”
I lower myself onto the bed, and the air thickens around me. The darkness seems to press closer, almost tangible, and my instincts flare, screaming Code Red through every nerve.
But those instincts gradually yield to my emotions as his words begin to sink in. A ripple of pleasure wracks my spine as I silently mouth his second sentence.
There’s a thrill in knowing he feels like he has no patience for me, and there’s a sharp, dizzying realization that strikes me.
I feel the same toward him.
When Cane brought me his file, I was perched on the edge of my own restraint, ready to crawl up the walls. Even the wordpatiencefelt meaningless—a brittle thing that had no place in the box of my mind anymore. I teetered on the brink, every nerve screaming, every thought burning with the urge to lose control.
The desire I have for him isn’t just strong; it’s impossible to rein in. It’s a force that hums beneath my skin, demanding release, unrelenting and consuming.
“Youwantme to wear it, don’t you?” I tease. My fingers brush gently across the blazer as I trail the golden, shimmering lines. “I’m not stupid, Dante. I know what this is about.”
He takes a moment, the crackle of static filling the space between us. “And what do you think this is about, Estella?”
An invisible hand grips my core, twisting and tugging, sending another jolt of electric heat and exquisite pain spiraling through my lower stomach. I clamp my thighs together, intensifying the ache, my breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps as if oxygen itself has abandoned me.
Did he coat these boxes, these gifts, with some lethal poison—a poison now coursing through my skin, anchoring me to him with a dizzying, blinding craving?
It’s as if I’m unraveling, thread by thread, dissolving into a singular creature driven by one primal instinct. Logic, reason, restraint—all vanish the instant our games begin. Onlyheremains, and the need he ignites.
“Control,” I breathe, the word trembling on my lips. “I’m your mentor and your partner in crime, but it can’t be more than that. But you—” I trail off, licking my lips nervously.
Every word fights its way out of me, clawing past a stubborn blockage lodged in my throat, refusing to let me speak like a normal person. Emotions surge and collide behind my eyes, buzzing and hammering against my skull, testing the edges of my endurance. I can’t untangle them, can’t grasp the beginnings or ends, only feel the relentless, chaotic pressure building inside.
“Breathe,” he instructs, and that single word is enough.
I draw in a breath so deep it sears my lungs, my nose capturing the delicate, powdery sweetness of the perfume. It’s like plunging into a pool alive with naked electric wires, each current sparking and shocking the water around me, sending relentless jolts through my chest. The waves drag me lower, down, into darkness, and just as blackness begins to creep into the corners of my vision, he pulls me back, steadying me against the chaos.
I swallow a lump, straightening my aching muscles. “You want to control me, and you’re ridiculous if you think that fromnow on, you will do that. I’m still in control. Don’t mistake these little moments for weakness.”
“Weakness?” he repeats, shock rippling through his voice. “I never said that was you showing weakness, Estella. I’m not trying to take over, and you know this. I’m not taking that power away from you—never.”
My breathing gradually steadies, and the tiny spark of anger I had managed to summon fades with each word he utters.
“Everything remains the same. Except, now, I can finally show how I really feel, and you can do the same.”
I frown. “So, what is that you’re feeling?”
There’s a short pause on that side of the line. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth as anticipation builds.
“I’maddictedto you. Every word, every breath, every calculated move you make. You slip into the fractures I’ve carried for years, filling them like you were crafted for the spaces inside me. And the only thing I can offer back is what you deserve.”
I take shallow breaths, my lungs tight, ice coursing through my veins and turning my blood into splintered shards. The adrenaline still hums beneath my skin, but now one feeling rises above it all—heavy, consuming, leaving more questions than answers in its wake.
“Put it on,” he commands, and my body instinctively flinches at the sound of his voice. Rough and steady, the tone that bears no room for arguments.
I move on instinct. Carefully putting the phone on the bed, my hands reach for the blazer. I let my fingers linger on the soft, sumptuous fabric one last time before lifting it. In one motion, I drape it over my shoulders, sliding my arms into the sleeves, letting the blazer settle onto me.
He stays silent, yet I can feel him leaning closer, attuned to the soft rustle of the fabric. That awareness sparks somethinginside me—a slow, warm current of realization creeping into my mind.
