I remember thinking Desiree's hair is beautiful when dry—wild, curly, and full of life. But now, with her hair wet and clinging to her face, it looks even more mesmerizing. It’s as if the wet strands are accentuating her features, creating a look so stunning I can hardly find the right words to describe it.The music ends.“Alexa, now play ‘Streets’ by Doja Cat,” Desiree says.As the soft music pours out of the speakers, Desiree takes off her clothes. The more she strips, the closer she walks to where I’m sitting. Each item is tossed carelessly to the ground—first her gown, then her necklace, followed by her earrings. Her shoes drop with a soft thud, and soon after, her bra and panties join the pile. With each step closer, the air between us thickens. Her movements are growing more intimate, more daring.Finally, she’s standing right in front of me, completely naked.I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe.“Can I cuff you?” she asks.I blink, confused. “Cuff me? As in handcuffs?”“Yes
Desiree's POV I think my ears are faulty. Did I just hear Caspian Hart—the CEO of CypherEdge Dynamics—ask me to marry him? “What?” I say, still in disbelief. My heart races, and I can hardly process the words that just left his lips. “Marry me,” he repeats. There’s an intensity in his eyes that tells me he’s completely serious. “But… why?” I stammer. “I know this isn’t how you imagined your first marriage proposal, but I’m dead serious, Desiree. I want to marry you.” I don’t know what to say. We’re still face to face with each other, and his lips—now swollen from kisses—are a few inches away from mine. I remember how they tasted, like coffee. They were so soft and properly moisturized, unlike the typical texture of men’s lips. If I want to think clearly, I have to put enough distance between myself and Caspian. Right now, he’s very distracting. “Caspian,” I say. I'm at a loss for words. What can I even say? I admit that a marriage proposal is not usually the first thing
I'm stunned. He doesn't look angry or disgusted. If anything, he seems...understanding. Compassionate, even."You knew, and you still came?" I whisper, barely able to process it.“It doesn’t make me want you any less, Desiree,” he says. “At first, I admit that the news surprised me. It’s not every day I hear that Mike’s ex is using me to get back at him. What was that word your uncle said again? Yes, collateral damage.”Uh, Uncle Bruno. I knew he’d out me. “Collateral damage?” I ask.“That’s what he said. That you’re a good girl and I shouldn't take it out on you.”That man always has my back.“Are you going to listen to him? Do you think I’m a good girl?”Caspian's look is intense, and he isn’t smiling. “You’re not a good girl, Desiree. But I like that. I like that very much. You came to me fully armed with seduction, and as of this moment, I confess that I’m heavily seduced. I wasn’t kidding when I promised you a blank check.”He pulls out a checkbook and a pen.“Caspian—”“Name you
New York; the city that never sleeps. Yellow cabs are weaving past me as I stand close to a marked crosswalk, waiting for the pedestrian signal to turn green. As soon as the signal changes, I dart into the crosswalk. Suddenly, a car screeches to a halt, its tires screaming against the asphalt, stopping just inches from me. I freeze in place. “Watch where you’re going, idiot!” the driver yells, his face turning red with anger as he leans out of the window. I flip him off without thinking. “Maybe you should learn how to drive, jerk!” I shout back. Typical New Yorkers and their lousy driving skills. The traffic light clearly told him to stop, yet I’m the one getting yelled at for following the rules? Unbelievable. But I shake it off. I don’t want anything to spoil my mood. Not when I’m this close to seeing Caspian again. I stand in front of the skyscraper that bears Caspian's company's name—CypherEdge Dynamics—Caspian’s pride and joy. I walk into the building, my he
I blush as I remember the night at Rose’s Bane. The stares. The moans. The heat. The shared orgasms. And Caspian is looking at me the same way he looked at me that night, and I blush even harder. I can't believe this. What am I now? A schoolgirl? I try to relax, but it’s hard when he’s staring like that—like he can see straight through me, right into my soul. He walks towards me, his movements controlled. “I trust the trip here wasn’t too much trouble?” His face is hard to read. “No, not at all,” I say, swallowing hard. “Just the usual New York chaos.” He nods. “And the bank?” “The bank?” “Did you or did you not cash the check?” Of course, I knew he'd bring that up. By some powerful means—probably through his private investigator—Caspian got hold of my mobile number. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes this morning was a text from him: 'Cash the check.' I looked up the number on Truecaller, and sure enough, it's Caspian's. His personal mobile number. I rolled my
Fuck. My. Life.Caspian's going to ruin me. And he's not done talking.“I want you, Desiree. I want to kiss you, to do things that’d be impossible to describe. I tell myself it’s foolish—ridiculous even—to imagine all this with you, especially when you’re so much younger than me. Sometimes, when I’m away from you, I swear I’ve convinced myself to get over these silly emotions. But all it takes is just one look, one fucking look, and I’m back to square one. Your hair…” He's looking at my hair now, pulling and wrapping some strands around his index finger. “The flame of my life. Has anyone ever told you how dangerously seductive it is?” I swallow hard. I’ve been complimented on my hair more times than I can count, but this—this is different. When others say it, I see it as an expression of fact. But with Caspian, it's a full-blown attack on my senses, a temptation I’m powerless to resist. His words don’t just linger—they penetrate, sinking deep into my very being. No one else has ever
Caspian's POVI can see Desiree thinking, probably wondering what the hell all this is about. And honestly, as I sit here at this desk, staring down at her—the flame of my life—I’m questioning everything myself. What the hell am I doing? Is this really a good idea? Would marrying her solve anything? Is my proposal for the good of the cause or for the good of my cock?“Caspian,” Desiree says, her sexy green eyes locked on mine, “why do I have this feeling that whatever you're proposing is a bad idea?”Well… There are moments when I think I should just let this go, let things play out on their own. After all, Mabel only has wild ideas, ridiculous schemes that shouldn’t even matter. But then there’s this burning instinct inside me—a father’s instinct—that refuses to let my son be played like a puppet by that manipulative woman. Mike deserves better. He needs to be freed from her toxic grip. And the best way to make that happen is to stir up enough chaos that it forces him to see the tru
We’re in my private elevator heading down to the basement, and all I can think about is Desiree. Her scent fills the small space, tempting me in ways that should be illegal. I don’t know the magic that comes with elevators, but being in such a tiny space with Desiree makes me want to kiss her.“Where are we going exactly?” she asks.“The basement,” I reply.From my side vision, I can see her rolling her eyes.“I know we're going to the basement, Caspian. I mean, where are we heading to from the basement?”“The streets.”She smiles and shakes her head. “I thought I was the joker around here. Yet here you are, outperforming me.”“I guess you're rubbing off on me, Desiree.”“Am I?” Her voice drops a little, playful, making it even harder to ignore how much she’s getting to me.“Maybe more than you realize,” I say.I sense her getting closer before I even see her move. The hairs on my arm stand up, and my pulse picks up speed. Then I feel it—her lips brushing softly against my ear. What i
I nod, my throat tight. “You better be.” The doors to the delivery room swing open, and suddenly, I’m surrounded by bright lights, the sterile smell of antiseptic, and the calm, authoritative voices of nurses. My mind is racing. My body, however, is focused on one thing: the relentless, excruciating contractions that feel like my insides are being wrung out like a soaked towel. “Breathe, Desiree. You’ve got this,” a nurse says, guiding me onto the bed. Caspian bursts through the door moments later, his hair disheveled, his suit jacket gone, and his sleeves rolled up. He looks like a man ready for battle. And, honestly, that’s what this feels like. “I’m here,” he says, taking my hand again. His grip is warm, solid, a lifeline in this sea of chaos. I glare at him through the pain. “You did this to me.” He leans down, brushing a kiss against my sweaty forehead. “I know, baby. And you’re doing amazing.” “Amazing? I feel like I’m being ripped in half!” I shout, my voice cracking wit
~~Months later~~ My best friend, Jessica, decided to organise a baby shower for me. She rented a penthouse. I know Caspian's involved in this. Who else is paying for the penthouse? The penthouse is everything Jessica promised and more—sleek marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows with a panoramic view of the city, and enough floral arrangements to make a florist weep. There’s an extravagant dessert table with a towering cake. And, of course, the unmistakable Caspian touch—a champagne fountain. I take it all in, my eyes narrowing suspiciously as I glance at Jessica, who’s currently trying to pass off the event as “modest.” Modest my ass. “You’re sure this wasn’t Caspian’s idea?” Jessica flashes her most innocent smile, which is about as believable as a politician’s promise. “I mean, he may have helped. But you deserve this! Come on, Dee, when was the last time we celebrated you?” I snort, adjusting the sash draped across my belly that reads Mom-to-Be. “You mean besides the
Desiree's POVWe're at a press conference.Cameras flash like lights at a club, and the buzz of reporters fills the air like a swarm of relentless bees. I hate it. Every second of it. But I stand tall, my hand resting in Caspian’s, my knuckles white from the grip. He doesn’t seem fazed—his jaw set, his eyes gleaming. He’s in his element.Me? I’m a bundle of nerves hiding behind a tailored dress and a painted-on smile.The tension in the room is obvious. Every gaze is pinned on us, every microphone is pointed in our direction. There’s no escaping it.Caspian steps forward, adjusting the microphone. His presence is magnetic. Commanding. He could announce the end of the world, and people would believe it was for their own good.He clears his throat, and the room falls silent.“For weeks now, CypherEdge Dynamics has been under siege,” he begins. “An individual named Mabel Blackwood infiltrated our company. She blackmailed board members, manipulated shareholders, and attempted to undermine
“Mr. Hart,” Aaron’s voice oozes through the line, smug and infuriating. “I trust you’ve been thinking about my offer.”“More like thinking about how to kill you,” I mutter under my breath, then louder: “I’ve considered it. But I need proof Desiree is alive. Now.”A pause. Then, Desiree’s voice, faint but there. “Caspian, please…”It takes everything in me not to lose it. “I’m here, Desiree. Hold on.”Aaron returns. “Satisfied?”“Barely,” I say. “You’ll get what you want. But not a second before I see her safe.”“Fine,” Aaron agrees. “Bring the drives to the location we’ll send you. Alone. And no tricks, Hart. Or she dies.”The line goes dead.Antonio is already moving, giving quick commands into his headset. “They’ll never see us coming,” he promises.I grip the phone. “They’d better not.”Because if they do, I’ll burn the entire city down before I let them take her away from me.---I park a block away from the designated warehouse, my pulse thudding in my ears. I sit there for a mom
The tone sends a chill down my spine. Calm, too calm, like this is a business deal and not—“Where is she?” I say. “If you’ve touched her—”“Tsk, tsk,” the man interrupts, almost amused. “Let’s not start with threats. You’re not in a position to make them.”I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles white. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”“Don’t I? Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Hart. Ruthless. Powerful. But none of that matters here.”My free hand balls into a fist at my side. “What do you want?”Finally, he gets to the point. “You’re going to deliver something to me. Two things, actually. First, the drives you took from Mabel’s mother’s house.”My mind races. How does he know about those?“And second,” he continues, “your shares in the company. Sign them over. All of them.”I laugh, sharp and humorless. “You think I’ll just hand those over? Do you know what they’re worth?”“Oh, I know exactly what they’re worth.” His voice drops. “I also know what she’s worth to you.”The a
Caspian's POVIt’s been over two hours since Desiree disappeared, and the hospital has called the police against my wishes.I’m pacing the waiting room like a caged animal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead doing nothing to quell the pounding in my skull. Every passing second feels like an eternity, a loud and unrelenting reminder that she’s not here, that I don’t know where she is, that I failed to protect her.“Mr. Hart,” one of the officers starts, her voice too calm, too measured, like she’s asking about a lost cat. “Let’s go over this again. You’re sure your wife didn’t… leave voluntarily?”My fist clenches so hard my knuckles crack. I whip around, staring at her like she’s grown a second head.“Voluntarily?” The word leaves my mouth dripping with venom. “You think she just decided to disappear in the middle of a goddamn ultrasound?”The other officer, a man with a face so nondescript I could forget it in seconds, clears his throat. “We’re just trying to establish all possi
Desiree’s POVI wake up feeling like my head has been split in two.Pain radiates from the back of my skull, throbbing with every heartbeat. My mouth feels like I’ve swallowed sand, and the metallic tang of blood lingers on my tongue. I try to move, but my arms won’t budge. Cold metal digs into my wrists, and the sharp edge of panic slices through the fog clouding my mind.“Welcome back.”The voice is smooth, almost polite, but it sends a chill racing down my spine. I force my eyes open, blinking against the dim light until the blurry figure in front of me sharpens into focus.Aaron.He leans casually against a table, his arms crossed, a smug grin stretched across his face. He looks like a villain from one of those old spy movies—too polished, too composed, too damn pleased with himself.“What the hell,” I croak, my voice raspy. “What is this, amateur hour? I thought kidnappers were supposed to wear masks.”He chuckles, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring my sarcasm. “You’re in go
Caspian's POVDesiree has been gone for too long.I glance at the clock on the wall, tapping my fingers on the armrest of the chair in rhythm with my heartbeat, which is getting louder and faster with every passing second. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Maybe this is one of those “pregnancy bladder” situations everyone warned me about. But how long does it take a pregnant woman to pee? Five minutes? Ten? I’ve lost track of time, but it feels like hours.I shift in my chair, trying to shake off the gnawing sense of unease creeping up my spine. The ultrasound pictures are still in my hand, slightly crumpled from where my grip has tightened.“She’s fine,” I mutter to myself. “She’s fine.”But the words don’t stick.Standing abruptly, I glance toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. The corridor feels longer than I remember, its sterile walls closing in like they’re mocking me. Every instinct in me screams that something isn’t right.Dr. William steps out of an adjacent room, looking surpr
Dr. William turns to us, his smile widening. “It’s a girl.”For a moment, the world stops. A girl. We’re having a daughter.“A girl,” I repeat, the words tasting foreign and magical on my tongue. Tears spill over before I can stop them, and I press a hand to my mouth, overcome with emotion.Caspian is silent beside me, his gaze fixed on the monitor. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, as if he’s struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “A girl,” he echoes. Then, with a soft laugh, he adds, “God help her if she inherits your stubbornness.”“Excuse me?” I glare at him, though the tears streaming down my face probably ruin the effect. “She’s going to be the perfect combination of both of us, thank you very much.”“Let’s hope she leans more toward your good looks than my temper.”“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit your ego,” I shoot back, though my voice is choked with laughter.Dr. William chuckles, stepping back to give us a moment. “I’ll print out some pictures for you two. T