KAIROS
"I… know what that means?" she stuttered.
A soft moan slipped from her lips as my hand moved to her most sensitive place. Heat pulsed beneath the silk of her panties, damp and unmistakable.
My jaw tightened as the ache between my legs intensified, demanding release. I pressed myself against her so she could feel it, feel how badly I wanted to bend her over, tear the thin barrier between us, and take her until she could no longer breathe.
Not just because I wanted her. But because I wanted to spite her father.
That bastard.
May you never find peace, Leonardo Marcelli.
But maybe he had been right. She was too good for me. She someone I should watch over, and not lust after.
Fuck my perverted mind, but I couldn't help myself.
"Stop, Kairos," Cassia whispered, reminding me again. "Your fiancée…"
My fingers stilled against her, my thoughts spiraling as I tried to gather the restraint slipping through my hands. Slowly, I dragged my hand down her thigh and lifted it in front of me.
A faint smile tugged at my lips at the sheen glistening on my fingers. I brought them closer, inhaling.
Sweet. Intoxicating. The most tempting scent I had ever known. Vanilla touched with cinnamon and something deeper. Something warm.
Cassia stared at me, eyes wide as she realized what I was doing.
"Kairos?" she murmured, her voice unsteady.
I slipped a finger into my mouth. The taste nearly undid me. And suddenly, one taste was nowhere near enough.
I looked down at her, desire plain in my eyes.
Not now, I told myself. There was time. She was here. She was not going anywhere. Her father was dead, and she was under my control.
I could have her whenever I chose. I stepped back instead of answering her question.
"Shower," I ordered, glancing at the dirt streaking her skin.
Her red hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders. The white nightdress, the kind reserved for privileged girls at the blood ring while others were stripped bare, was torn along the side and down the front.
She looked disheveled. And still, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
"Then get dressed. We are going out," I added, turning away from her stunned expression.
"Where?" she called after me.
"Wherever I decide you should be."
Her voice rose. "Wherever you decide?"
My hand rested on the door handle when she spoke again.
"My father just died, Kairos," Cassia said, her voice shaking. "Do not tell me you are so heartless that you will not even let me mourn him."
I turned back to her.
For a brief moment, I saw something raw in her eyes. Not the stubborn girl who pretended nothing could break her. Not the one who endured insults with a smile.
Just grief.
But it did not change anything.
"You are under my roof now, Cassia," I said evenly. "I bought you. And you will follow my rules."
Her lower lip trembled. She parted her mouth as if to argue, but no words came. After a second, she closed it again, her chin lifting in defiant silence as she held my gaze.
When she said nothing, I opened the door and walked out. Reina was in the living room. The moment she saw me, she stood.
"You left me in the bedroom," she complained.
"Did you die?" I asked dryly, crossing the marble floor toward the far wall.
A sleek black bar was built into the paneling beneath a massive oil painting. Crystal decanters gleamed under warm lighting. I reached for the bottle of eighteen-year single scotch malt and poured myself a glass. Amber liquid flowed smoothly, catching the glow like molten gold.
"This is not how you treat your girlfriend," Reina snapped. "You told me to come over, and suddenly, there is a redhead in your house. Not just anyone. Leonardo Marcelli's daughter." Her lips curled in disgust. "I thought you hated anything connected to him."
I did. I still do.
I swallowed the whiskey in one gulp, setting the glass down as warmth spread through my chest.
Cassia, however, was a different matter.
Reina kept talking when I did not answer. "You would not even give me that money you wasted on her. You should have let Rossi take her."
Paolo Rossi.
A filthy old predator. Nearly Leonardo's age. A man with daughters older than Cassia.
The thought alone tightened my jaw.
Of course, Rossi only wanted to use her. Break her. Put a child in her the way he had done with so many other women he dragged from the ring. Cassia was Leonardo's daughter. Everyone hated him.
He would surely be happy to use her as he desired.
If it had been anyone else who placed that bid, maybe I would not have interfered.
Or maybe I still would have.
Cassia was mine. No one else's. I would have gone to war for her if necessary. But I would never have let her fall into Paolo's hands.
"I don't think I can survive in the same place as an enemy," Reina said with a shiver.
"Then don't," I replied coldly.
She stared at me in disbelief. "Are you telling me to kill myself over some random redhead?"
I ignored her dramatics. She was the one who claimed she could not survive near Cassia. What she chose to do with that was not my concern.
"Is the helicopter ready?" I asked the guard stationed near the entrance.
"Yes, sir," he answered, standing straighter.
"Good." I walked toward the doors.
Reina hurried after me. "Where are you going, Kairos? We were supposed to meet my father. You told him you would discuss proposing to me in his presence."
"Your father can wait," I said, scanning the grounds of my estate. I had something else to handle. Something far more important.
"What could be more important than him?" she snapped.
I turned. And saw Cassia.
She stood a few steps behind Reina.
Absolutely breathtaking.
Her skin was clean now, pale but flawless.
The long red dress I had chosen clung to her figure, the slit at her thigh revealing flashes of silky skin.
The bodice was modest, revealing no hint of cleavage at all, yet its sculpted structure traced the natural contours of her torso, the silk drawn taut along her waist and ribs. And still the effect was dangerously alluring — the sort of elegance that could drive any warm-blooded man quietly insane.
Her red hair caught the light above her head, wild, loose, and untamed.
Her winter gray eyes locked onto mine. She let me see exactly what she felt.
Hatred.
It was new. I had never seen it directed at me before. And it struck hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
I gripped my tie as it suddenly felt too tight around my neck, tugging at it until I could breathe properly.
I should not give a fuck what Cassia thought of me. It was her fault I was in this position anyway.
"This is your three million dollar doll, standing in your presence," she announced coolly.
My gaze darkened, and I started toward her, momentarily forgetting Reina was even there until she stepped in front of me.
"I asked you a question, and the best you can do is eye fuck this dirty whore in front of me?" Reina snapped.
I did not deny it. I gripped her shoulder and moved her aside.
"You already have your answer, Reina," I said, taking Cassia's hand and pulling her with me.