Reina's POV The door clicked shut. I barely had the strength to turn the lock before my knees buckled. I slid down against the door, my breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as the weight of everything crashed into me. My skin still burned where Andrew had touched me. The memory of his voice coursed through my mind, vile and sickening. ‘I've seen all of you, remember?’He has seen all of me. And that confirmation made me so sick to my stomach.Bile shot up my throat. I staggered to my feet, my legs unsteady, and made for the bathroom. I yanked the faucet handle, watching as scalding water rushed into the tub. Steam curled into the air, but it wasn’t hot enough—nothing would ever be hot enough to burn away the filth. I stripped off my dress, barely registering the fabric pooling at my feet, and stepped under the water. The heat bit into my skin, but I welcomed the pain, scrubbing my arms, my shoulders, my legs—scrubbing until my skin turned raw. But no matter how hard I scrub
Cassian's POVI had let her go. It wasn’t something I wanted to do. But Reina had agreed to my conditions too easily. No fight. No hesitation. No resistance. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, an unfamiliar sense of disappointment curling in my gut. Still, I’d let her walk out that door.uWhile she was gone, business awaited. Lorenzo arrived precisely on time, stepping into my study with that same calculated grin, his sharp eyes dancing around the room. Looking. Searching. For her. My possession. Reina. I knew it the moment his lips curled into that infuriating smirk. The same smirk he wore every time he wanted to test my patience. “She’s not here,” I said coldly, leaning back in my chair. Lorenzo’s grin widened. “Pity.” He strolled forward, hands in his pockets. “I was hoping we could play another game. You know, like old times.” I didn’t need to ask the price. I already knew what he wanted. A silent, unspoken bet. The stakes were high, but the outcome had al
Cassian’s POVI wanted to be the one to ruin her. I should be the one to ruin her.I need to have a little talk with the person who beat me to it. I have to let him understand how valuable my properties are.Shaking off the thought, I headed to the bed. But the moment I shut my eyes, the past came clawing back. Just like every other night.****I was on the floor. The cold tiles beneath me were slick with blood—my own—spreading in a thick pool around my legs. I tried to move, to push myself forward, but my limbs felt heavy, dead weight dragging me down. I couldn't stand. I couldn't run. I could only crawl. My breath came in ragged gasps as I clawed my way forward, nails scraping against the blood-slick floor. My arms shook, every movement sluggish, as though something unseen was forcing me down, keeping me trapped in my own broken body. But I had to reach her. Had to save her. The masked man stood just a few feet away, towering over her. His black gloved hand held a p
Reina’s POVThe nightmare always began the same way. The sound of footsteps in the hallway. The creak of a door opening. A shadow stretching across the floor, swallowing me whole. I curled into myself, pressing my little fingers against my ears, trying to block out the hushed voices outside my bedroom. But nothing could stop the sickly sweetness of alcohol and cologne from seeping under the door, wrapping around my throat like a noose. “Be a good girl, Reina.” The words slithered into my mind, the same way they had that night. The sheets tangled around my legs, my body frozen as the dark figure loomed over me, a hand brushing over my cheek. Then the pressure. The searing pain. The muffled scream. I jerked awake with a sharp gasp, my chest rising and falling in panicked, shallow breaths. Sweat dampened my forehead, my nightshirt clinging to my skin. I pressed the heel of my palms against my eyes, willing the images away. It wasn’t real. Not anymore. But my body st
Reina’s POVI should not be here.The thought slams into me the moment I step foot inside Cassian Morelli’s mansion.The sitting room is cold, impersonal. The walls, a pristine white, are lined with art pieces I don’t recognize, their worth probably more than I’ll ever make in my lifetime. The ceiling stretches high, disappearing into shadows cast by the golden chandelier above. The space is beautiful, immaculate… and yet, suffocating.Like a cage.I sit stiffly on the edge of an expensive leather couch, hands clasped in my lap, trying to steady my breath. The silence stretches, thick with something I can’t name. The only sound is the soft tick of a clock somewhere in the room, each second dragging like an eternity.I am not here to admire the wealth, I remind myself. I am here for a job. A mission.I inhale deeply, pressing my shoulders back. The police made it clear—I have no choice. I either infiltrate Cassian Morelli’s life, or I rot in a prison cell for the death of David Lance.
Cassian’s POV She doesn’t flinch. Not at the gunshot. Not at the body crumpling to the floor. Not even when the blood splatters against her pale skin, staining her like a mark of initiation. Interesting. I lean back, studying her. The woman sent to fix me. From the moment her name crossed my desk, I was hooked. Reina Vale. I wasn’t supposed to notice her. She was just another applicant, another name on a list of so-called professionals meant to oversee my recovery. But something about her stopped me. Held me. And I don’t ignore my instincts. It didn’t take long for my men to dig into her past—every alias, every address, every secret she thought was buried. It didn’t take long for me to discover the truth. She was sent here to spy on me. A lamb dressed as a healer, walking willingly into the wolf’s den. How fucking adorable. Did she think I wouldn’t know? That I wouldn’t recognize a setup when I saw one? That I haven’t seen her kind before—liars who pretend to
Cassian’s POVShe doesn’t scream. Doesn’t clutch a towel or cloth to her chest in a desperate attempt at modesty. No, Reina Vale just stood there—drenched, exposed, her skin flushed from the heat of the bath. A goddess carved from defiance and misplaced courage. And fuck, she is a sight. I take my time, letting my gaze drag over her, unhurried and unapologetic. She’s a vision—bare, vulnerable, yet still brimming with defiance. The way the water trails down her body, clinging to her in a way that makes my fingers twitch with the urge to follow. The way her breathing quickens but doesn’t break, her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat like she’s fighting against her own instincts. Fear. Desire. Both tangled together in a way that makes my blood hum. She should be terrified. I killed a man right in front of her, and yet here she stands, staring at me like I’m the real danger. Smart girl. I let the silence stretch, drinking her in. Her fingers twitch near her th
Reina’s POV I gripped my coffee cup tighter, my fingers curling around the ceramic as the memories of last night slithered back into my mind like poison. Mr. Morelli. His dark eyes, the way his fingers had lingered just a second too long on my waist, his voice curling around my name like a noose. A shudder rippled through me—not from pleasure, but pure, unfiltered disgust. I hated men like him. Men who took what they wanted. Men who used power like a weapon. Men like him had broken me once. And then there was her. His Fiancée. The woman who had walked in just as I was sitting naked on my patient's lap. She was beautiful in a way that was almost predatory—sharp eyes, sharper words. She didn’t seem the type to forgive slights easily. I could only hope, for my own good, that I never pissed her off again. I exhaled slowly, taking a sip of coffee just as my phone buzzed against the counter. Unknown Caller. My stomach twisted. I already knew who it was before I answere
Cassian’s POVI wanted to be the one to ruin her. I should be the one to ruin her.I need to have a little talk with the person who beat me to it. I have to let him understand how valuable my properties are.Shaking off the thought, I headed to the bed. But the moment I shut my eyes, the past came clawing back. Just like every other night.****I was on the floor. The cold tiles beneath me were slick with blood—my own—spreading in a thick pool around my legs. I tried to move, to push myself forward, but my limbs felt heavy, dead weight dragging me down. I couldn't stand. I couldn't run. I could only crawl. My breath came in ragged gasps as I clawed my way forward, nails scraping against the blood-slick floor. My arms shook, every movement sluggish, as though something unseen was forcing me down, keeping me trapped in my own broken body. But I had to reach her. Had to save her. The masked man stood just a few feet away, towering over her. His black gloved hand held a p
Cassian's POVI had let her go. It wasn’t something I wanted to do. But Reina had agreed to my conditions too easily. No fight. No hesitation. No resistance. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, an unfamiliar sense of disappointment curling in my gut. Still, I’d let her walk out that door.uWhile she was gone, business awaited. Lorenzo arrived precisely on time, stepping into my study with that same calculated grin, his sharp eyes dancing around the room. Looking. Searching. For her. My possession. Reina. I knew it the moment his lips curled into that infuriating smirk. The same smirk he wore every time he wanted to test my patience. “She’s not here,” I said coldly, leaning back in my chair. Lorenzo’s grin widened. “Pity.” He strolled forward, hands in his pockets. “I was hoping we could play another game. You know, like old times.” I didn’t need to ask the price. I already knew what he wanted. A silent, unspoken bet. The stakes were high, but the outcome had al
Reina's POV The door clicked shut. I barely had the strength to turn the lock before my knees buckled. I slid down against the door, my breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as the weight of everything crashed into me. My skin still burned where Andrew had touched me. The memory of his voice coursed through my mind, vile and sickening. ‘I've seen all of you, remember?’He has seen all of me. And that confirmation made me so sick to my stomach.Bile shot up my throat. I staggered to my feet, my legs unsteady, and made for the bathroom. I yanked the faucet handle, watching as scalding water rushed into the tub. Steam curled into the air, but it wasn’t hot enough—nothing would ever be hot enough to burn away the filth. I stripped off my dress, barely registering the fabric pooling at my feet, and stepped under the water. The heat bit into my skin, but I welcomed the pain, scrubbing my arms, my shoulders, my legs—scrubbing until my skin turned raw. But no matter how hard I scrub
Reina had barely taken two steps when Andrew stood leisurely, his gaze burning into her back. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, a predator stalking its prey. Then, he stopped right in front of her, so close she could smell the faintest trace of expensive cologne beneath the rot of his arrogance. His fingers curled around her chin, tilting her face up toward him. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he studied her, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip in a mockery of tenderness. "You know," he murmured, his voice dangerously smooth, "you seem to be forgetting something very important." Reina clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. Andrew smirked. "You can’t touch a single cent, a single property, a single damn thing—unless we’re married. And if you’re not planning on becoming Mrs. Andrew Coleman…" He let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Then it’s your loss. Because at the end of the day, I will get everything. With or without you." The audacity of him. The sick,
Reina’s POVThe room spun. My fingers tingled with the urge to claw at the paper on the floor, to rip it apart as if destroying the letter could rewrite my reality. Lucy’s smug face. Andrew’s predatory grin. The lawyer’s impassive stare. All of them watching. Waiting. I forced my breaths to slow, to steady my pulse, even as the weight of my father’s betrayal threatened to crush me. This wasn’t just about money. It was about power. Control. They wanted to break me.Andrew leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His voice was slick, amused. “You know, Reina, you don’t have to fight this. It would be... nice.” I turned to him slowly, my lips curving into a humorless smile. “You think forcing me into a marriage will make me obedient?” His gaze darkened, but he didn’t lose his smirk. “I think it’ll make you mine. And that’s all that matters.” I gritted my teeth, refusing to react. He wanted to see me flinch. He wanted to taste my fear. Not today. Lucy exhaled dra
Reina’s POVThe room felt suffocating, thick with tension as I sat across from the people I hated most in the world. My stepmother, Lucy, sat with an infuriating smirk on her face, her eyes gleaming with mockery. Beside her, Andrew lounged back like he owned the place, one arm draped over the chair, his fingers tapping idly against the wood. I forced my hands to remain still in my lap, refusing to let them see how tightly I wanted to curl them into fists. The lawyer, a stern-looking man with graying hair and sharp eyes, cleared his throat after realizing that my bodyguard won't be leaving.“We will now proceed with the reading of Mr. Vale’s last will and testament.” His voice was even, professional, but I could hear the faintest edge of impatience. Lucy scoffed, leaning back in her seat. “Let’s just get this over with. We all know who the rightful heirs are.” Andrew chuckled slowly, giving me a look that made my stomach churn. I clenched my jaw, choosing silence. There was n
Reina’s POVThis was not what I bargained for. Why wasn’t he angry? Why didn’t he demand that I leave? Why was he so calm? I would have preferred his wrath—preferred him casting me out, yelling, rejecting me. Instead, his silence, his deliberate control, became my punishment. Every second I spent cradling him, pressing food to his lips, I felt something stir inside me—something buried deep, something dark. It crept to the surface, whispering temptations I wasn’t ready to name.The way his tongue flicked over the fork, slow and deliberate, sent a shiver down my spine. His eyes—dark, unyielding—pinned me in place, stripping me bare with nothing more than a look. I clutched at my shirt, as if the fabric could shield me, as if it could keep him from seeing the way my breath hitched, the way heat curled low in my stomach. And oh, the bites on my palm— Snap out of it, Reina. Get a grip! But my gaze betrayed me, drifting to my hand, to the faint imprints of his teeth still pressed
Cassian’s POVI passed out on the floor of my room after I had exhausted myself in the bathroom. It was almost dinner time when I woke up to the sharp ring of the bedside phone. "Ugh," I groaned, shifting slightly. My muscles ached, my skin was damp with sweat, and worst of all, my cock still throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. I had taken my release, yet it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. I ran a hand through my damp hair, exhaling through my nose as the ringing stopped. Few minutes later, a knock. I didn’t move. I knew exactly who they were sending. I stayed slouched on the floor, keeping the position Reina had left me in. I wanted her to see me just like this. I wanted her to feel guilt, to feel regret. I wanted her to wonder if she had crossed the line. But when the door opened, it wasn’t her. It was a maid. A young, delicate thing with wide eyes and nervous hands. I felt a flicker of irritation. They didn’t send Reina. Disappointment curled i
Cassian’s POVShe grabbed my dick. That sweet little thing. Fuck. I’d barely moved—barely twitched—when she did it. Not out of desire, no. She wanted to punish me. Wanted to humiliate me. But the joke was on her. Because I got hard. From just that. From her tiny, defiant hands wrapping around me, thinking she had control. The thought alone made my cock stir again. I should be livid. I was livid. My body had been frozen, paralyzed by whatever little trick she pulled. My own nurse had drugged me. I should’ve been plotting a hundred ways to break her, to remind her why no one, no one, made a fool out of Cassian Morelli. And yet, all I could think about was her goddamn hands. A growl rumbled in my throat as I flexed my fingers—just slightly. The effect of the drug was fading. Slowly. Agonizingly. First, a twitch in my fingertips. Then my wrist. Then, with a slow, deliberate breath, I curled my fingers into a tight fist. Yes.She thought she’d won? That I’d just sit there