Dhalia’s POVMy eyes are glued to the door. In front of me are three small boxes, one for each of them. They are late, though. They promised to be back by four, and now it’s a quarter past. I’m trying to be patient, but it’s harder than I’d like to admit.Two months ago, I opened my bookstore, and it’s been incredible. Twice a week, we host book clubs, and I’ve made it a point to bring one of the guys with me to each session. It’s hilarious watching their faces as we dive into the discussions. The women seem to enjoy it too—something about discussing steamy romance scenes with a bit of eye candy in the room.The door finally creaks open, and I sit up straighter as they walk in.“You’re late,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.“By fifteen minutes, Angel. Cut us some slack.” Blake winks, leaning down to kiss me. His hand reaches for one of the boxes, but I slap it away.“Don’t touch.”He chuckles, rolling his eyes.“Why do I get the feeling we’re in trouble, Sweetness?” Jax asks as
Jax POVAs I sit on the couch, the book resting on my lap, I find myself absorbed not so much in the story itself but in the little marks I’ve made throughout its pages. These marks have become something of an obsession for me. They’re the places where I’ve seen Dhalia react—whether it’s a quiet gasp, a tear rolling down her cheek, or that subtle squirm of excitement that she can’t quite hide. Whenever she reads with me in the room, and I catch one of those reactions, I make sure to mark the page number. Later, when she’s done, I go back and read those specific sections, trying to decode what it is about these words that stirs something inside her.It all started small. At first, I only marked the pages that elicited a blush or a quiet moan—scenes of sex that clearly struck a chord. It didn’t take long to realise that it wasn’t just those moments that mattered to her. She would also react to the tender, the heartbreaking, and the unexpectedly sweet moments with an equal, if not more p
Blake POV The last few months have been a whirlwind, a mental and emotional gauntlet that none of us expected. It wasn’t the physical demands that took their toll on me—it was the psychological strain, the constant push and pull of trying to navigate our lives while Chase and Jax became increasingly overprotective of Dhalia. My attempts to ground them in reality often felt futile, like trying to anchor a ship in the middle of a storm. Dhalia, poor Dhalia, bore the brunt of their overzealous protection. At five months pregnant, they decided it was too dangerous for her to continue working. Mind you, her job was sitting in a cozy little bookstore, reading and managing sales. There wasn’t anything remotely strenuous about it, but they convinced themselves—and her—that it was unsafe. It seemed harmless enough at first, just a precaution. But by the time she hit seven months, their obsession to shield her and the baby from every possible harm became all-consuming. They wouldn’t let her
Chase POVI watched Dhalia as she moved through the store, her steps light and full of purpose, and it hit me—I might have gone too far. In our well-intentioned but overzealous efforts to protect her and Jacob, Jax and I had smothered her. When I casually mentioned the idea of going shopping, I expected a discussion, maybe some hesitation. But instead, she practically bolted for the door, grabbing her coat and leaving without a word. That was proof enough. We had suffocated her under the guise of safety and care.Seeing her so happy to be out, to be free to do something as simple as shopping, was a wake-up call. We had reduced her life to the confines of our home, restricting her to the roles of mother and partner, leaving little room for her to just be herself. That’s why I suggested she could return to work if she wanted to. Jax may not like the idea—he’s still riding the wave of his overprotectiveness—but after more than six months of keeping her tethered, it’s time we give her bac
Dhalia POV After shopping today, I felt a sense of relief I hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever. It wasn’t just about the shopping itself, though I did need some new clothes—my body has changed so much in the past year. No, it was more about finally getting out of the house, about reclaiming a little bit of the freedom I’d been missing. The walls of our home, which once felt like a sanctuary, had started to close in on me. Chase and Jax, in their well-meaning but intense desire to protect me and ensure I had time to heal, ended up suffocating me without even realising it. Don’t get me wrong—I love them for how much they care, but I didn’t need to be housebound for months, or placed on bed rest for weeks after giving birth. I know some women would relish the idea of doing nothing but resting and being pampered, but it drove me crazy. That’s why, when Chase casually mentioned going shopping, I jumped at the opportunity. I was out the door and in the car before he could even t
DemiI pace the room and wait. Everything is set up. Everything is going to be perfect. I know to others, this will look like a crazy thing to do. It's not, though; if anything, it's hot. Maybe a little crazy. Who am trying to kid? It is crazy.Yasmine laughs while looking at me like I'm a fool. "This is crazy. I can't believe you're going to do it," she says, and I smile. I am, and I will enjoy every second of it. Actually, I'm sure both me and Dean will enjoy every second of it."He will love it! Especially after the meeting, it gives him something fun," I explain and wait for the call. I know it was a long meeting. He had already warned me he would be busy for hours. This is just something fun to help him unwind and enjoy himself."Ryan knows what he is doing, right?" She asks, and I nod. It's not that hard to kidnap someone. You grab them, throw a bag over their head, and are done. At least they make it look that easy in the movies, it actually might not be. Who knows?"Yeah, I've
DemitriI stay sitting on the chair and can't stop smiling at her. She's wild and feisty. Which I fucking love in my women, but this one? She likes the risk. That is obvious because here I am, tied to a chair in her apartment.She fucked me without checking I was the right guy first, and I remember her words. Next time, I kidnap her. I will. She can count on that for sure. That's my mission going forward: find out who she is. What she does in life, where she goes and who she is close to. I want to know every secret she has.Then, I will kidnap her back and fuck her.If she survives, the longer I don't reach out, the more chance there is she will have a team of men swarming this place and breaking down the door with guns. Then she will be dead, as they won't ask. They will just shoot. Which I guess is my fault. I trained them to do that if I was ever taken.She's freaking out, though. My eyes look across her. Her black hair flows down her back, and her eyes are mesmerising and green. I
DemiI don't move as this Demitri guy walks out looking far too happy that I fucked up. I'm happy I did, in some senses, but not in other ways. I mean, I know now I have to face Dean. He's going to be pissed I slept with a random guy. In my defence, it would have been him if he hadn't lied about where he was."I can't believe you fucked Demitri. The guy who kills without mercy and has a name for himself," Yas mutters. Her eyes stayed on me like she is still trying to work things out in her mind. It's not that hard.I was meant to kidnap my boyfriend and fuck him, and instead, I somehow kidnapped and fucked the Don of the mafia. I'm lucky to be alive right now."He's the Don, of course, he fucking kills people. What is he meant to tickle people as torture?" Ryan mutters and looks at Dean. "Are you gonna calm the hell down before you get your head blown off? That wasn't just some random guy," Ryan says."Fuck that. How could you act like this when you lied to me, Dean? If you hadn't lie