What the fuck? He can go to hell for all I care. I'm going to cum anyway. I begin to throw my hips forward, seeking release. Caspian realizes what I’m doing and pulls out."Where are you going?" I ask."Punishing you,” he says, looking at me with a mischievous grin.“For what?”“You were disobeying my orders," he replies.I raise an eyebrow. "I wasn't."“Yes, you were. I could feel you squeezing, that thing you do when you're about to cum.”God, I miss the feeling of him inside me. I miss the way he moves, the way his hips thrust into mine, slow and skilled. I miss the way his body feels against mine, the way our skin touches and slides against each other, creating a friction that's both smooth and rough at the same time. I miss the way he makes me feel, like I'm the only person in the world who matters, like I'm the center of his universe, and like nothing is more important than the connection we share. I miss the way he looks at me, the way his eyes seem to see right through me, an
Caspian's POVI don't know why I said it. The words just slipped out. But the truth is, I want a baby with Desiree. A cute little redhead.She freezes for a moment, clearly taken aback. "What do you mean by ‘would it be so bad if we had a baby?’" she asks, her tone sharp. It’s clear she isn’t imagining the same adorable redhead I am."Would it?" I ask.Her reaction is immediate, far from what I was hoping for. "Of course it would," she snaps, standing up from the tub. Her wet body glistens as she steps toward the shower. I watch her rinse the soap off, her movements tense, not like the usual graceful sway she has. There's a clear wall between us now, something heavy hanging between my stupid question and her frustration.I can’t help but admire her for a second, even in this moment. God, she’s beautiful when she’s mad. But this is bigger than just a little fight, and I know it.I drain the tub and follow her into the shower, standing before her as the hot water beats down on both of
Desiree has been silent for a long time, still processing the bomb I just dropped. She looks up at the fresco again, her eyes tracing the details with more interest.Then she turns back to me. “I had no idea... I mean, this painting alone... Caspian, this is... it’s stunning.”I shrug, trying to play it off, even though I can see she’s genuinely impressed. “He’s always been the artistic one in the family.”“And you’ve just... had this here, in your bedroom, hidden away from the world?”"It’s not hidden," I say. "Only special people get to see it."Her eyes grow soft, making me want to pull her closer. "Well, I’m honored," she says. "I can’t believe I’m sleeping under an Indigo Phoenix original."I chuckle softly. "Now you know."She stares at the painting again. "How long did it take him to create this?""Several weeks. He stayed here to finish it." I watch her face as she continues to admire it. "Tell me, what’s the first thing that comes to mind when you look at it?"She pauses for
Desiree's POVTrue to her word, Mabel sent me an invitation to her wedding dress fitting. Time, date, and location were all neatly typed out in an email. Against my better judgment, I’ve decided to go. Maybe, just maybe, we can act like a normal family for once. I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, still debating my decision. Mabel and I have never exactly been close. Sure, we’re family, but that doesn’t always mean you get along. But today, I'm giving it a shot—for once, I’ll try."Caspian," I call out, rummaging through the medicine cabinet, "have you seen my pills?""Your pills?" he asks from the bedroom, his voice sounding way too innocent."Yeah, it’s almost 8 a.m., and I usually take them by now," I reply, feeling a slight panic rise.There’s a long pause before Caspian finally responds, "I think I saw them in the drawer of the nightstand."The nightstand? That's odd. I don’t remember putting them there. Did I move them and forget? Maybe I’m just being paranoid. Can the hor
I frown. Who is he, and why is he tagging along? He wasn’t introduced to anyone, yet here he is, strolling behind Mabel like he's part of the bridal party. No one else seems to notice—or care.Helena must catch my confusion because she leans in and whispers, “Do you know him?”I shake my head. “Not a clue.”Helena glances at the guy, her eyes narrowing for a second. “Weird. He’s been lurking since I got here. Maybe he’s some friend of Mike?”“Maybe,” I say, though I’m not convinced. Mike runs in a completely different circle—this guy doesn’t fit. His casual demeanor and constant focus on Mabel feel... off. And the way Mabel keeps stealing glances at him tells me there’s more going on here than just a wedding dress fitting.As we all shuffle into the dressing room, the space feels suddenly too small. Mabel is in full bride mode, chatting excitedly with the seamstress while the rest of us settle in around her. But my eyes keep drifting back to the stranger. He stands off to the side, le
The room goes still. All eyes turn toward me. The stranger straightens up, not a trace of surprise or discomfort on his face. He’s almost amused by the question, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask.Mabel’s smile tightens, and for the first time, she looks a little uneasy. “Oh, this is Aaron. He’s... a friend of mine.”A friend? Right.Aaron doesn’t miss a beat. He offers me a charming smile, the kind that would probably win over most people. “Nice to meet you. I’ve known Mabel for a long time.”A long time? That doesn’t make this any less strange. If anything, it raises more questions. Why haven’t I heard about this guy before? Why is he suddenly showing up now, right before her wedding?Mabel quickly jumps in, trying to smooth things over. “Aaron’s just helping out with some last-minute wedding details. He’s really good with fashion and design.”I narrow my eyes, not buying it. “And where’s your fiancé? Shouldn’t he be here for this?”“He’s tied up with work.”Of course, he is
There’s a naked man in my living room.Okay, he’s not completely naked, but boxers and flip-flops hardly count as fully dressed. I freeze, feeling like a stranger in my own home, waiting for this half-clothed intruder to acknowledge me. But he doesn't. He didn’t even hear me come in—he’s got AirPods in his ears, his eyes are closed, and he's lounging like he owns the place.I realize standing here like a stalker isn’t getting me anywhere. I have to be the one to break the ice."Hi," I say, stepping forward, trying not to sound too awkward.Nothing. He doesn’t flinch. Not even a twitch. Great. I move closer, hesitating just a second before I reach out and tap him gently on the shoulder.His eyes snap open. Wide, unblinking, and... strange. His irises aren’t round—they’re vertical, like a cat’s. I nearly take a step back. Contact lenses, maybe? Whatever it is, they’re unsettling.He stares at me for a moment, not moving, just... staring. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he fina
Fiona’s eyes meet mine, and it feels like the ground has been pulled out from under me.“Desiree?” she says.It’s her. My younger sister. The one who disappeared without a trace, leaving me with nothing but questions. The one I thought I’d never see again.And now, she’s standing in my living room, acting like all these years apart were nothing. Like I hadn’t spent countless nights worrying if she was even alive.“Oh my God,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Fiona... is that really you? Where the hell have you been?”She smiles like it’s no big deal. “Around the world.”I’m frozen, torn between wanting to hug her and wanting to slap that smile off her face. Around the world? That’s her excuse after all this time?“You never called,” I say, my anger rising. “You never texted. You just disappeared.”Before she can answer, Paul jumps in, looking confused. “Wait, you two know each other?”I turn to Paul, feeling even angrier. “I should be asking you that! How do you know Fiona?”Paul looks a
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