I stare at my phone for a long time, her voice echoing in my head. I should feel satisfied that she agreed, that she gave in, but instead, there’s a strange heat curling low in my chest.
Maybe it’s the memory of her hug, the way she held me like I was something fragile instead of dangerous. Maybe it’s the way she looked at me last time, eyes soft, lips trembling, as if shewanted to believe there’s more to me, that I’m the one who can fulfill her deepest desires.
She’ll learn the truth soon enough.
And I’ll make sure she never forgets who taught it to her.
The night smells like rain and perfume when I pull up to the Kappa house. Warm light spills through the windows, laughter floating out into the street. A few girls sit on the porch, their legs crossed, drinks in hand, eyes sharp and curious. They whisper when they see my car, when they see me.
I step out and wait.
Then she appears.
Callista Vale.
She moves down the steps like temptation given form. Her short black dress fits her like a secret she’s dying to keep, all soft fabric and bare skin. The heels make her legs look endless. Her lipstick is the color of blood and sin, just like I told her. She’s everything I imagined—and worse for my self-control.
When she reaches me, her chin tilts up, defiant, but I can see the faint flush climbing her throat.
“You look… breathtaking,” I say quietly.
Her lips curve. “You sound surprised.”
“I shouldn’t be. I told you what to wear.”
She rolls her eyes. “So you’re taking full credit for this?”
“Absolutely.” My voice lowers. “But you should’ve worn something longer. Did you want the entire street to see you like this?”
“Maybe.” Her smile turns playful. “You told me to wear a short dress.”
“I didn’t tell you to wear that short.”
A fire sparks in her eyes, like she won the silent game between us. “Then you should have specified the length down to the exact inch. I’m not every smart, Daddy.”
Her laughter is soft and sweet, but I feel the pulse of challenge behind it.
I open the car door for her, and when she slips inside, her perfume fills the air—warm vanilla with a hint of jasmine. I lean over her to fasten her seatbelt. My hand grazes her collarbone, my fingers brushing the slope of her neck. Her skin warms under my touch, her breath catching.
“Beautiful,” I murmur. “I wish I were the only one seeing you tonight.”
Her eyes dart to mine. “You’re very possessive.”
“I never said I wasn’t.”
She laughs again, quiet, but it trembles slightly. I shut her door and walk around to the driver’s side, forcing myself to focus on the road instead of the image of her legs crossed so neatly beside me.
When I slide into the seat, she gives me a once-over. “You’re wearing a suit.”
“I told you this was a date.”
“A suit and tie, Dmitry? Are we going to a gala?”
I smirk. “Yes.”
She blinks. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not. My brother Mikhail is hosting an event tonight. His wife, Zorina, is performing. It’s for a cancer charity.”
