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
“Desiree,” I say, pulling away just enough to catch my breath. Her lips are still so close, waiting to grab mine again at any second. “What are you doing?”She arches an eyebrow, all innocence and mischief wrapped in one. “Kissing you.”“Are you trying to seduce me?”A sly smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “I think I’ve already seduced you, Caspian.”She’s not wrong. Everything in me—every nerve, every ounce of restraint—is leaning in her direction. I want her. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want Desiree. There’s a daring glint in her eyes, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me and loves every minute of it. I’m usually the one in control, the one who calls the shots, but with Desiree, it’s like my control has taken a break.“Well, I’ll give you this,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended. “You’re good at it.”“Good?” She leans in, her breath warm against my cheek as she whispers, “I’m just getting started.”Fuck me. There it is—the line I didn't want to cross. O
For a brief moment, neither of us speaks. Our eyes meet in shared surprise. Outside, I can hear muffled voices, quick and urgent, as the driver exchanges words with my security team. “What the hell was that?” Desiree asks.“I’m not sure,” I reply, all traces of flirtation gone. My instincts sharpen, the protective side of me kicking in. I don’t like surprises, especially not when I’m with her. “Stay here.” She narrows her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing, Caspian?”“Making sure everything’s fine.” I reach for the door handle, but she grabs my arm, her grip firm.“Oh no, you don’t,” she says. “You’re not leaving me alone in this car like some damsel in distress.”I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. “You think you can handle what’s out there, Desiree?”“I think I can handle you, and that’s scarier than anything waiting outside.”She’s serious, and I can see the determination in her eyes.“Fine,” I relent, though I don’t like the idea of her stepping into uncertainty. “B
Desiree's POVI think someone needs to pinch me. Because this is a dream. It has to be a dream. Yesterday, I was just an ordinary girl, doing ordinary things and barely scraping by. Today, I’m cashing million-dollar checks, riding with a billionaire's entourage, saying yes to a contract marriage, and casually picking out wedding rings at Tiffany & Co. Who am I?Caspian’s hand rests on the small of my back as we enter, his guards moving into formation around us, like we’re royalty or something. “Good day, Mr. Hart,” a short, impeccably dressed man greets us with a smile, bowing slightly, as if he’s been waiting all day just for this. “Right this way, please.” He doesn’t hesitate; he already knows where to lead us. I blink, trying to make sense of it. I’ve been by Caspian’s side since he proposed. Not once did I see him make a call, send a text, or give any instructions. So how is everyone doing exactly what he wants them to do without instructions?Wait…“Caspian,” I say, “did you s
I try to dodge her attempts to smother me, but it’s impossible. She pulls me into a bone-crushing hug, and I swear I hear Caspian chuckling behind me.“Mom, you’re—” I can barely breathe. “You’re squeezing me.”“Oh, hush. You’re pregnant. You’re invincible now!” She pulls back, her hands gripping my arms as she stares at me like she’s just been handed the Holy Grail. “We have to celebrate.”“No,” I say. “No celebrations.”She ignores me, her mind already racing ahead. “We’ll call your siblings, of course. And your aunt. And the cousins. Everyone has to know. Oh, we’ll have a big family dinner—”“We’re leaving for New York today,” I interrupt, my voice firm. “There’s no time for any of that.”She frowns, her face falling in a way that tugs at my heart. “But this is huge, Desiree. You’re having a baby! My grandchild!”“Which is precisely why I’m not ready for the entire family to descend on me like vultures,” I say, trying to keep my tone light but firm. “Mom, I love you, but no. We’re
Caspian tilts his head, pretending to think about it. “Technically, yes.”“Technically?!” I say, grabbing the sheet to cover myself even though he’s seen everything. “Oh my God. She’s going to know. She’s going to know! I’m going to have to move to another continent. Maybe Antarctica.”He chuckles, too relaxed for someone who’s just committed a cardinal sin. “I’m pretty sure you’re overreacting.”“No, I’m not!” I slap his chest, but he just grins, his hand reaching up to catch mine. “You don’t know her! She’ll bring this up every Thanksgiving for the rest of my life. My life, Caspian!”“She’s not going to bring it up,” he says, sitting up now. “And if she does, I’ll handle it. Relax.”“Relax?” I throw the sheet off dramatically and scramble off the bed. “I cannot relax! This is a disaster.”He watches me, amused, as I grab the first piece of clothing I can find—his shirt—and pull it over my head. It falls halfway to my knees, but it’ll have to do.“You’re adorable when you’re panickin
“Caspian!” I hiss, my hands flying to his shoulders. Before I can protest further, he captures my lips in a kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth as if he's trying to brand me as his own. "I can't get enough of you. You're mine," he says, the possessiveness in his tone making my heart race with excitement and fear. I shiver at the dark promise in his words, my body already slick with need for him. He pulls back to trail open-mouthed kisses down my neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking at my sensitive skin as he frantically works the buttons of my shirt—his shirt, actually—ripping it open to expose my lace-covered breasts to his hungry gaze. I moan and arch into his touch as his calloused hands palm my bare breasts, thumbs teasing my aching nipples. I can feel the wetness dripping from me, already anticipating the feel of him filling me. I watch him through heavy-lidded eyes, my body trembling with barely contained need. Once he's done undressing me, he takes a lustful look
“No, it’s not,” I say, though my voice is a little too high-pitched to be convincing. “She knows what we did to get you pregnant, Desiree. She’s not going to be shocked by some creaky bed springs.” I smack his arm, my mortification complete. “Caspian!” He bursts out laughing, and despite my best efforts, I can’t help but smile. His laugh is infectious, the kind that makes it impossible to stay mad. Still, I cross my arms, glaring up at him. “You’re the worst.” “And yet, you married me.” “Poor decision-making on my part.” He reaches down, pulling me up from the floor with an ease that’s both annoying and impressive. Before I can protest, he’s dragged me onto the bed, his arms wrapping around me as he shifts us into some semblance of comfort. It’s a tight fit, but somehow it works—his body warm and solid against mine, the faint smell of his cologne grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. “This isn’t comfortable,” I grumble, even as I relax into him. “Sure it is,” he mu
“I’m trying to fix this!” I say, my voice rising. “You think I wanted to come back here? You think I wanted to face all this again? I’m doing this because it’s important—because it’s the right thing to do.”She laughs again, bitter and sharp. “The right thing. That’s rich.”“Mom, please,” I say, my voice breaking despite my best efforts. “I need you.”She softens, just a fraction, and for a moment, I think I’ve gotten through to her. But then she shakes her head, turning back to the stove.“I don’t know anything,” she says quietly. “Even if I did, I’m not getting involved.”“Why not?”“Because Elaine’s dangerous,” she says, her voice low. “You don’t know her like I do. She’ll ruin you if she thinks you’re a threat.”“She’s already ruining people,” I say. “And if we don’t stop her, she’ll just keep doing it.”Mom hesitates, her hand resting on the counter, her gaze distant. Finally, she sighs, the fight seeming to drain out of her. “What exactly do you need from me?”Relief floods thro
“Well,” Caspian says, leaning back in his chair. “That could’ve gone worse.”“Worse?” I glare at him. “She practically called us parasites.”“Technically, she only called you a parasite.”I grab a pillow from the couch and throw it at him. He catches it, laughing as he tosses it back.“This isn’t funny,” I say. “Now what?”“Now,” he says, standing and stretching, “we apologize to your mother. She doesn't seem too angry. I feel like a little touch here and there will crumble her resolve.”“How would you know? Did you see her face when she left?”“I’ve been doing business for years. It's called the ‘guilt-trip’ move. Just go over there and say sorry like the good daughter that you are.”I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”“Because deep down, you know I’m right.”I peek at him through my fingers. “I hate you.”He grins. “No, you don’t.”I leave the living room and head for the kitchen, where I’m certain Mom is.The kitchen is dimly lit, the only l
Caspian flashes her his most charming smile. “I think her headstrong nature is one of her best qualities.”Mom blinks, caught off guard for half a second before recovering. “Oh, how sweet. You really are a catch, aren’t you?”I down my glass of wine in one go.As the evening drags on, Caspian expertly steers the conversation toward Mabel’s family. It starts subtly—questions about old neighbors, mutual acquaintances—but my mother’s too sharp not to notice.“Why the sudden interest in Mabel’s mother?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.Caspian doesn’t miss a beat. “Just curious. Desiree mentioned her in passing, and I thought she sounded fascinating.”Mom leans back, swirling her wine like a villain in a soap opera. “Fascinating isn’t the word I’d use. Elaine’s always been… ambitious. But I wouldn’t put much stock in what she says. She’s not exactly the most reliable source.”“Why’s that?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.She gives me a pointed look. “Because she’s exactly
Desiree's POVI want to believe this plan will work. I really do. But I know my mom. She’s a professional shapeshifter, charming you one minute and gutting you with a smile the next. I hate that we’re resorting to her, but Caspian seems so sure of himself, so confident in this ridiculous idea that I’ve reluctantly let him take the lead.His hand is on the small of my back as he guides me toward his private jet, a gesture that feels more reassuring than I care to admit. The runway is lined with his security entourage, men in suits who move like shadows, their eyes scanning the horizon for threats that probably don’t exist. It’s all so… excessive.“You know,” I say, glancing up at him as we climb the stairs, “you could’ve just booked a commercial flight like normal people.”He smirks, not even breaking stride. “Normal people don’t have ex-strippers with billionaire husbands chasing after gossips of their scheming cousins. Or mothers with questionable boundaries. Besides, do you really w
Outside, the air is cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. Desiree leans against the railing of the porch, her hands gripping the wood tightly. “I can’t do this,” she says, her voice low and angry. “They’re useless.” “We’ll figure it out,” I say, leaning beside her. “We just need to be patient.” “Patient?” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Caspian, we don’t have time for patience. Mabel’s a step ahead of us, and we’re sitting here making small talk with people who don’t even like me.” “They don’t have to like you,” I say. “They just have to slip up.” She shakes her head, her jaw clenched. “This was a mistake.” “No,” I say. “It wasn’t. We’ll find what we need. One way or another.” She doesn’t respond, just stares out into the distance, her expression unreadable. And as the wind rustles through the trees, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve already lost the battle before it’s even begun. # The drive home feels endless, the road stretching into the dark l