The room was still, save for the sound of Evelyn's soft, steady breathing. Michael leaned against the edge of the bed, his chest heaving as he stared at her. Her hair was a tangled mess against the pillow, her lips slightly parted as she slept. The marks he had left on her neck and shoulders were a stark contrast against her pale skin. She looked peaceful now, almost angelic, but the weight of what had just transpired pressed heavily on his chest.
He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. Sweet. That word barely scratched the surface of how Evelyn had felt in his arms. Her touch had been hesitant at first, but her body had responded to him in a way that ignited something primal within him. She was intoxicating, utterly consuming. Better than anyone he had ever been with—and better than he deserved.
But the truth was bitter. Evelyn hadn't done this out of love or desire. She had done it for her mother, to fulfill some unspoken obligation to the twisted arrangement Michael had with her father. And yet, as much as he wanted to convince himself that he had simply taken what was owed to him, he couldn't ignore the way she had clung to him, her gasps and moans betraying the pleasure she'd felt. Her body had wanted him, even if her mind had resisted.
That thought sent a fresh wave of guilt washing over him. What kind of man does that make me?
Michael sighed and stood, his muscles stiff as he reached for the blanket at the foot of the bed. Evelyn stirred, murmuring something unintelligible as he draped it over her. He hesitated, his fingers brushing her cheek. She looked so vulnerable, so untouched by the darkness he carried. For a moment, he entertained the thought of keeping her, of making her his and protecting her from anyone who dared to harm her.
But he knew better. His presence would only taint her. She deserved better than a man who made deals in shadows, a man whose hands were stained with the blood of his past.
Quietly, he dressed, his movements efficient and methodical. He tugged his shirt over his head, fastened his belt, and slipped his shoes on. He didn't dare look at her again as he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. The air outside felt cold and uninviting as he stepped into the hall.
"Let's go," he ordered his guards, who straightened at his approach. They followed him without question as he descended the stairs and exited the lavish estate he'd temporarily called home.
---
The drive to the Morgan mansion was silent, tension hanging in the air like a storm about to break. Michael stared out the tinted window, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and longing. His hand clenched into a fist on his lap, the memory of Evelyn's taste and warmth etched into his mind. She had awakened something in him that no amount of distractions could suppress.
As the car approached the grand gates of the Morgan estate, his jaw tightened. The guards stationed outside tensed as his convoy pulled up, their gazes flickering between each other in uncertainty.
Michael's right-hand man, Adam, stepped out of the car first. Without a word, he presented a small insignia, a mark that signified allegiance to Michael's shadowy empire. The guards exchanged wary glances before stepping aside, allowing the convoy to enter the estate.
The Morgans were celebrating. Laughter and the clink of glasses spilled from the brightly lit mansion. Michael remained in the car, his expression cold and calculating as he watched from the shadows. The sight of Mr. Morgan standing at the center of the gathering, his face flushed with pride, only fueled Michael's simmering anger.
Adam returned to the car, his movements precise as he handed Michael his phone. "He's ready to speak," Adam said curtly.
Michael took the device, his voice a low growl as he addressed the man on the other end. "Mr. Morgan."
There was a pause, and when Mr. Morgan finally spoke, his voice was laced with false cheer. "Ah, Mr. Volkov. What an unexpected pleasure."
"Cut the pleasantries," Michael snapped, his patience thin. "Where is Diane?"
The hesitation on the other end was palpable. "She... She was unavailable," Mr. Morgan stammered. "But Evelyn—"
"Evelyn wasn't part of the deal," Michael interrupted, his tone ice-cold. "I paid for Diane, not her younger sister."
"Please, Mr. Volkov, let me explain—"
"You will do no such thing," Michael barked. "This is the last time you pull a stunt like this, Morgan. You think you can bait and switch me without consequence? Be grateful that Evelyn managed to..." He paused, his mind flashing back to her trembling body beneath him. "...satisfy my expectations."
Mr. Morgan's voice trembled. "I... I assure you, it won't happen again."
"It better not," Michael said, his voice a deadly whisper. "Because if it does, you and your entire legacy will cease to exist."
He ended the call and tossed the phone onto the seat beside him. The tension in his shoulders didn't ease as the car pulled away from the estate. Instead, the weight of his anger and frustration seemed to grow, pressing down on him like an iron shackle.
---
The club was dimly lit, the bass of the music thrumming through Michael's chest as he entered the VVVIP section. He settled into a leather booth, his expression unreadable as he motioned for a drink. The glass of whiskey arrived moments later, and he downed it in one gulp, the burn doing little to dull the ache Evelyn had left behind.
He glanced at the scantily clad women lingering nearby, their gazes hungry as they sized him up. One of them approached, her hips swaying seductively as she leaned in close. "Can I get you anything else?" she purred.
Michael's jaw tightened as he met her gaze. Her eyes were the wrong shade, her lips too painted, her scent too artificial. She was nothing like Evelyn.
"Leave," he muttered, waving her off. The woman hesitated, confusion flickering across her face before she retreated.
Michael leaned back, his fingers drumming against the table as his thoughts returned to Evelyn. No matter how much he tried to distract himself, the memory of her taste haunted him. She had done more than satisfy him - she had unraveled him.