AVA.

The blindfold dug into my skin like a persistent itch I couldn't scratch, its rough fabric a constant reminder of my vulnerability. I sat there in that creaky metal chair, wrists raw from the ropes, ankles numb from the bindings, every muscle in my body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap.

The air hung heavy with dust seeping into my lungs with each shallow breath I took. How long had it been? Hours? Days? The time blurred in the darkness, but my mind raced, piecing together every scrap of information Echo had let slip during our chat.

He was a former military man, now a freelance, working for someone driven by a personal grudge against Zane. He was predictable in his arrogance and ran solo operations with no cams and a reinforced door. He thought he had me cornered, but I had been probing him like a puzzle, noting the cracks in his modulated voice, the way he had stiffened at my questions about loss. Men like him always had a weak spot, their ego. And their egos let them make mistakes.

A distant thud echoed through the concrete walls, pulling me from my thoughts. My heart stuttered. Was that a door? Footsteps? I strained against the blindfold, tilting my head, and prickling my ears for more. Nothing at first, just the drip-drip from that leaky pipe in the corner, mocking my isolation.

Then I heard a muffled shout, followed by the sharp crack of gunfire. Pop-pop-pop, like fireworks gone wrong. My pulse hammered in my throat, adrenaline flooding my veins. This was it. Either a rescue or my execution.

Please, let it be Zane. Let it be Damian.

The sounds grew closer and got more chaotic, with grunts, crashes, and more shots. Glass shattered somewhere, maybe through the barred window on the door. I twisted in my chair, making the ropes bite deeper into my skin, and I let out a deep hiss.

"Come on," I whispered to myself, fierce determination bubbling up inside me. I was Ava Sinclair-Calloway, raised in shadows and spotlights. I would fight if I had to, blind or not.

The door to my prison burst open with a metallic screech, and the hinges gave off a groaning in protest. Instantly, cool air rushed in, carrying the acrid scent of gunpowder.

"Where is she?" a voice barked with fury.

Damian.

My chest tightened as relief crashed over me. He was here to save me.

But. Echo's modulated growl cut through, reminding me that the chaos wasn't over. "You shouldn't have come."

Then the real fight erupted.

I couldn't see, but I felt the air vibrating with the intensity of their violence. I listened as their bodies slammed into walls, and the concrete cracked under the impact. That was followed by a grunt, the wet thud of fists meeting flesh.

Gunshots rang out closer now, deafening in the confined space just as something warm splattered across my cheek...was that blood? My stomach churned, but I forced myself to stay still, to listen.

"Flank him!" Another voice yelled through in a commanding tone.

Zane. My brother was there too.

More footsteps pounded while a table overturned with a crash, tools scattering like metallic rain. Echo fired back, and someone yelped in pain.

Not Damian, please not him.

What if they got hurt because of me? I tugged at the ropes again, ignoring the burning sensation since I was desperate to help out. "Damian!" I shouted,

A body hit the floor nearby, the impact sending vibrations up my chair legs. Echo's labored breathing filled the room, it was closer now.

"You think this ends here?" he snarled, his modulator glitching from damage. Then I heard a savage crack of bone breaking and he howled.

"It ends now." Damian replied. I heard more blow exchanges than the slick sound of a knife slicing skin. The air thickened with the fresh blood smell, making me gag. This was cartel life, the bloody underbelly I had glimpsed but never touched.

And now it was spilling out for me.

Finally, silence descended, broken only by heavy breathing and a groan from the floor. I felt gentle hands on me as it tugged at my blindfold. Pulling it off my eyes, light flooded in, blinding me at first. I blinked rapidly, as tears filled up.

Damian's face hovered inches from mine, bruised and blood-stained, his dark eyes were filled with relief.

"Ava," he breathed, cupping my cheek, thumb wiping away the splatter. His touch sent sparks through me and silenced the chaos in my mind. I had missed him.

"I'm okay," I whispered,

But my eyes darted past him to the carnage. Echo lay crumpled against the wall, his mask was torn and blood was pooling from a gash on his forehead. He had a bullet wound in his shoulder. His chest rose and fell unevenly.

He was alive, but barely.

Zane stood over him, gun trained, his suit torn, a cut above his eye dripping red. Sienna was next to him. Two of our men, Rico and another guarded the door, one clutching a bleeding arm.

Zane holstered his weapon and knelt to bind Echo's hands with zip ties from the scattered tools.

"Secure him," he ordered Rico, who nodded and dragged the semi-conscious man to a corner.

Sienna's eyes scanning me with concern. "You held up well," she said, almost approvingly.

Damian worked on my ropes, his fingers deft despite the tremor I felt in them. As the bindings fell away, I rubbed my wrists, wincing at my raw skin. He pulled me to my feet, wrapping me in a tight hug.

His heart pounded against mine, I soak in his cologne.

"I thought I'd lost you," he murmured into my hair.

Zane approached us, his expression softening as he pulled me from Damian into his own embrace. "Ava," he said, voice rough. "Good to see you."

I hugged him back, feeling the tension in his frame.

"Who is he working for and what do they want?" I asked, nodding at Echo as I pulled away.

Zane replied, giving Damian a glance, "Good call on the dupe drive. Bought us time."

Dupe Drive?

I frowned, piecing it together. Echo had demanded Sienna's locket drive, full of secrets. But dupe?

"You faked it?" I asked, turning to Sienna. She nodded, her lips curving slightly. "Couldn't risk the real one. Not with the cartel under fire."

"Under fire?" My mind sharpened, curiosity overriding the ache in my body. "What do you mean?"

Zane exchanged a look with Damian, then sighed. "Some journalists dropped an exposé. Tied Atlas to... everything. Drugs, laundering, hits. Our stocks are dipping, and feds sniffing around. The drive Echo wanted has got evidence that could flip the narrative about Atlas."

My thoughts raced ahead, connecting dots I had picked on Echo's psychology. He was a professional and had mentioned a "new player" with a grudge against Zane, wanting territory. That made him predictable. Echo would have planned his movement. After the drop, he would bolt to his employer for payout, because his ego would demand that he deliver it in person.

"Set him up," I said, cutting through Zane's explanation. "Use him to take the heat off Atlas."

They all stared at me.

Zane tilted his head. "Explain."

I straightened, ignoring the throb in my head, adrenaline to help was fueling me. "Echo's ex-military freelancer. He works for pay; he hinted that Zane was stepping on toes. After you 'drop' the drive, he'll grab it and run straight to whoever hired him. Trail him. Let him lead you to the boss. Then tip the feds anonymously. Plant the narrative that the hirer and Echo are behind the cartel stuff in the exposé. Frame them with the drive's contents. It solves your press problem, clears Atlas."

Sienna's eyes narrowed, assessing. "Bold. But risky. If he spots the tail..."

"He won't," I countered, "He's arrogant, thinks solo means untouchable. I have studied him; he doesn't use proxies. I got that from our talk."

Zane rubbed his chin, considering. "And the feds? We can't just hand over the drive."

"Fake the drop with a tracker in the dupe first," I pressed, my mind whirring. "But switch to real, having edited out ones that could harm us if needed. No, wait. Use the real drive as bait, but rig it with a virus or something to corrupt after access. Noah can handle that." I glanced at Damian, who nodded slowly, a grin tugging at his lips.

Zane's gaze bored into mine, weighing. "This isn't your world, Ava. You've been through hell. Let us handle..."

"No," I snapped, "This is my world now. They took me because of you, because of Atlas. I'm not sitting out. I read him, Zane. Let me help end this."

Damian stepped forward, his hand on my shoulder, "She's right. Sharp as hell. We could use her brain on this."

Zane's eyes flashed between us, the old protectiveness showing again. "Fine," he said finally, voice grudging. "But you stay back during the op. Observation only."

"Deal," I agreed, though internally I seethed at the leash. I would prove myself.

The team moved fast after that.

֍

Rico patched Noah in via secure line, hidden in the locket pendant. "It will ping the location every thirty seconds, and a backdoor virus to fry it if accessed wrong," he explained over speaker,"

Sienna handed it over reluctantly, her fingers lingering. "This better work."

Zane nodded at Rico. "Revive him enough to talk."

Rico hauled Echo up, slapping his face lightly. The man groaned, his eyes fluttering open behind the torn mask. Blood crusted his lip. "What...?"

Zane loomed over him. "Deal's on. Here is the drive in exchange for the girl. I have the coordinates sent." He tossed a burner phone at Echo's feet. "Two hours. No tricks."

Echo's laugh was weak, a modulated voice crackling. "You first."

We left him bound but loose enough to escape as part of the setup. As we piled into SUVs outside, I slid into the back with Damian. His hand found mine, squeezing. "You were brilliant back there," he murmured, lips brushing my ear. Shivers raced down my spine, mixing with the adrenaline.

"I had to be," I whispered back. "For us."

The convoy rolled out, Rico monitoring the tracker from a laptop. Echo broke free twenty minutes later, as predicted. We tailed from afar, with drones overhead courtesy of Noah's hacks. The signal led east, through to a nondescript office building on the city's edge.

Rico noted. "Shell corp ties, wait, linked to an old rival. Marcus Hale. Vanessa's silent partner."

We parked blocks away, watching via feed as Echo entered, drive in hand. Inside, grainy CAM hacks showed him handing it to a man in a suit. Hale, surrounded by goons.

Once they plugged it in. Zane ordered, "Tip the feds,"

Noah handled the anonymous drop using the altered exposé files rerouted to Hale's servers, timestamps faked. Feds swarmed minutes later. We watched from afar as they busted in and gunfire erupted briefly, as Hale's men resisted. Echo bolted out a side door, but the feds cut him off, tackling him in a brutal takedown. Hale emerged in cuffs, cursing.

It was over. Atlas had been cleared.

As the feds hauled them away, I exhaled, leaning into Damian. "Told you he would lead straight there."

He kissed my temple with pride. "Damn right."

Damian clapped my shoulder. "Thanks to Ava. She nailed his psyche, predicted every move." He turned to Zane, "We could use a brain like hers. Stop holding her back from ops. She's proven it."

Zane stopped, eyes on me. "You're right. Welcome to the family business, sis."

I smiled. There were no more sidelines. This was my world now.

HARVEY.

The cabin smelled of mildew, its wooden walls groaning under the weight of years. I dropped my backpack by the door, the thud echoing in the empty space, and fumbled with the spare key Ben had described as being tucked under a loose porch board, crusted with dirt. My fingers shook as I turned it in the lock, the door creaked open to reveal a plush-decorated living room. Ben's family home, a hideout outside LA.

I sank onto the couch, and the springs protested against my weight. I pressed my palms against my eyes. The exposé I had written on Atlas played on a loop in my head. I had thought it was my ticket to the big leagues, a Pulitzer-worthy scoop. But now, there I was, hiding out here. I saw Noah's face instead; his eyes had been hollowed on that PR broadcast that I watched in the car. He had stood there, deflecting questions about drugs, money laundering, hits, while the reporters swarmed like vultures. I had done that to him. Noah had sounded angry the last time we spoke. I had hurt him.

I shuffled to the kitchen, while the floorboards creaked under my boots, until I stopped at the fridge. I pulled it open and found it empty, save for a jar of pickles and a can of beer.

"Ugh" I sighed as I grabbed the chilled beer, and cracked it open.

I walked back to the couch in the living room, staring at my bag, contemplating getting my phone. I had powered it off for the last 48 hours. I had been too paranoid to turn it on, imagining trackers or bugs by the cartel trying to pinpoint my every move. But I needed to know what was happening. I sank back onto the couch, forgetting about the beer in my hand for that moment and flipped on the TV.

The screen flickered, static giving way to a news channel. "Breaking: Ruz Cartel Exposed as True Culprits Behind Atlas Allegations."

The anchor's voice was crisp, authoritative, as footage rolled of the feds storming a building, bringing out men in cuffs. There was also footage of Marcus Hale and others, all bloodied but alive. My beer slipped from my hand, hitting the floor with a dull clang. The foam seeped into the rug.

"That was a ruse." I sighed as my anger surged, drowning my initial guilt. My story was true. I had triple-checked every lead and every document. Atlas men were chess masters, flipping the board when cornered. They must have framed Hale to spin the narrative and left my exposé in tatters. Their genius team could rewrite reality itself. I had been played. Again.

My hands trembled as I fished my phone from the bag. It powered on with a chime. Notifications flooded in texts, emails and voicemails. My publisher's number was at the top with three messages waiting. Before I could listen, the phone buzzed, and the screen flashed his name.

I sighed, bracing myself as I answered it. "Hi."

"Harvey, what the fuck?" His voice was a snarl, the kind he reserved for interns who missed deadlines. "You've tanked us."

I sat up, spine rigid. "Tanked? The story was airtight. You approved it!"

"Airtight?" he screamed, and I could hear him pacing, "It's a shitshow! Feds raided Hale's operation, found your 'evidence' planted there. Everyone's screaming that our site publishes fake news. And the board's livid. Your contract's done, Harvey. Done."

The words hit like a slap, my breath catching. "Done? But the advance and the cheque..."

"Clawed back. You think we can pay for lies? You've cost us credibility, which is everything to a news channel, not to mention how we are hemorrhaging revenue. That exposé is the death of us."

"Lies?" My voice rose in my defense, "Atlas spurned this. They must have hacked, planted, framed Hale. My sources were solid..."

"Your sources were played!" he roared. "Or you were. Doesn't matter. Don't call back."

The line went dead. I stared at the phone, feeling my heart racing so fast. The cheque wouldn't clear. That means that my mortgage payment would be in default again, I was already three months behind. Not to mention my other bills, which had all been piling up; eviction notices would come, followed by repossession. I would lose everything. My apartment and my name. All because I had dared to challenge Atlas,. who had been obliterated. I had poked the wrong empire, and now I was their prey.

I paced the room, my boots thudding on the floor. My phone buzzed again, jolting me. Audrey.

My stomach twisted reading her name on the screen. I answered, "Hey."

"Harvey, thank God. We need to meet. Coffee shop on Elm, one hour. As friends. If we ever were."

I laughed softly. "So you can set me up? Finish what your empire started?"

"Neutral ground, just us."

My curiosity gnawed, wondering if Audrey knew something or anything that could help me fight back. "Fine," I snapped.

"See you there."

The call ended.

I grabbed my jacket, weighing my decision. If Atlas wanted me, they would get me. I couldn't hide from such a powerful empire even if I tried.

֍֍

I got to Elm Street's coffee shop, a few blocks away from the banquet hall, where I had met Audrey for the first time, and I stepped inside. Audrey sat in a corner booth, sitting stylishly in her fancy navy blazer.

I slid in across from her, arms crossed tight. "Talk."

She pushed a latte my way, steam curling up. "I'm glad you're safe. Noah's been a wreck, Harvey."

"A wreck?" My voice came off a bit loud, it drew glances from other patrons. "After burying my story? And framing Hale? Don't play me, Audrey. You're Atlas's fixer."

"You are the one to talk, no. You dropped a nuke on us. All mere accusations of murders and illegal drugs that could've ruined good people. Noah's not what you think."

"Good people?" I leaned forward, "Cartel deals and blood money, that's your 'good people'? I had proof, Audrey. Emails, photos, names."

"Proof?" She matched my lean, her whisper fierce. "It is all half-truths, cherry-picked leaks from rivals like Hale. Admit it, that you used me and Noah for a headline, and we fought back. In the end, we all were just doing our jobs."

"Your jobs?" My clenched fist hit the table, rattling the mugs, "You destroyed me! My writing contract is gone, no pay. Doing your job will cost me my home and career. Audrey, my life. Because Atlas can't handle the truth."

Her face softened, "Your story was a weapon and it aimed wrong. Hale was the real threat who tried to frame us. We just redirected the heat."

"Redirected?" I scoffed despite myself. "Tell me, knowing Noah handles your hacks, did he laugh while screwing me over?"

She flinched, looking away, "He cares. More than you'll admit. But you have to know why I'm here. I want to help you quietly. Give you some money, get a new start. But you have to stop digging."

Rage boiled over, "No, Audrey. I'm not stopping. Atlas is dirty, and I'll prove it again."

"You'll die, Harvey," she hissed, leaning closer, "Hale's down, but others are circling. Drop it, Harvey. For old times' sake."

I stood, chair scraping, "We were never friends. Just pawns in your game. Tell Noah I'm sorry for nothing."

I stormed out, guilt and anger tangled inside me, but one thing was clear: Atlas had won this round. But I wasn't done. Not yet.

NOAH.

As the last reporter shuffled out, I exhaled, the knot in my chest loosening just enough to breathe. I let loose two top buttons on my shirt to let my tie hang loose, the knot half-undone after hours of fielding questions from a ravenous press corps. Beside me, Audrey stood poised, her navy blazer crisp despite the marathon of deflecting accusations. Harper's exposé could have burned us to the ground. But Ava's plan, that brilliant, ruthless gambit to pin it all on Marcus Hale and his freelancer Echo, had turned the tide. The feds had swallowed it and the media pivoted. Even our stocks were climbing back up already. We had just delivered our final bow, a rehearsed performance of confidence and veiled threats about lawsuits against defamers.

Audrey gathered her notes, "You held it together out there," she said, "That glare you shot the Post guy? Kept them on their heels."

I managed a tight smile, rubbing the back of my neck. "Had to. Ava's idea saved our asses. Didn't think Zane's little sister had that kind of cunning in her." My mind flickered to Ava, Zane's half-sister, whom we had always kept at arm's length from our darker dealings. She'd read Echo like a book, predicted his ego-driven moves, and handed us the playbook to flip Harper's story into someone else's funeral. I was impressed, maybe even awed.

Yet Harper's name still stung. It was a raw wound I couldn't shake.

We stepped into the executives' parking lot. Audrey paused by her car, keys glinting in her hand, and turned to me. Her eyes held something heavy, a weight I hadn't noticed inside. "Before I go," she said, "I saw Harper earlier at the coffee shop on Elm. She's... not okay, Noah."

My stomach twisted hearing her name, "Not okay?" I asked, "She should be. She got her big scoop."

Audrey shook her head, leaning against her car door. "Not like that. She's a wreck-bags under her eyes. she lost her contract and is facing eviction. I doubt it was personal, Noah. Just her job. It was not a vendetta against Atlas. Or you."

I crossed my arms, the asphalt cold under my shoes. Her job. The words burned within me, stoking the fire I had kept banked. "Her job you say? She used me, Audrey. Pumped us both for secrets, then lit the fuse. You buying that 'just journalism' excuse?"

She met my gaze, unflinching. "Yeah, I am. We talked and fought, really. She's not vengeful. She's broken. Harper is ambitious, sure, like you with your code. She chased the truth, got too close, and now she's paying for it. You know that drive in her, Noah. You felt it."

Her words hit harder than I wanted, stirring the guilt I'd buried under anger. Harper's ambition. I knew it well. I had being a part of a team that built Atlas's digital walls on the same fuel, hacking through nights to bury rivals.

"Maybe," I muttered, "But Zane's not buying it. He's already given the order to take her out. Quietly."

Audrey's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Then change his mind. She's no threat now. Give her a pass, Noah. You still care, don't you? Despite everything."

I stopped, I wanted to hate her, to see her as the enemy who had nearly toppled us. But the memory of her lingered. "I don't know," I admitted. "But I need to see her."

Audrey nodded, sliding into her car. "Don't do anything stupid. And drive safe."

Her taillights vanished, leaving me alone in the lot.

֍֍֍

I drove to the park, the one with the winding paths and benches overlooking LA's glittering sprawl. The lot was empty, I killed the engine and stepped out, my boots thudding on the pavement. Under the stars, I pulled out my phone, pondering on dialing Harper's number.

Could I believe Audrey's words that it was not personal, just her job? I needed her to say it, to see her eyes when she did.

My thumb hit call before I could overthink it. It rang twice. "Noah?" Her voice was sounded a bit different. I could hear the exhaustion in it.

"Yeah." I leaned against the car, the metal cool through my shirt. "Where are you?"

She paused, "Why?"

My tone softened, surprising even me. "I want to talk. Face-to-face. I... need to see you."

"Ben's cabin. Hills outside LA."

"I'm coming." I hung up, adrenaline spiking. But first, I had to face her, see if the woman I had known was still there. Convincing my brothers would be like defusing a bomb. Now, I had to decide if she was worth saving.

They arrived at the cabin an hour later and parked. The gravel was crunching as I approached the door. From the open window, I saw her silhouette pacing inside. I knocked and stepped aside, waiting for her to answer it.

The door creaked open, and there she was. My Lila.

But different,

Her hair was a mess, her eyes were swollen, yet she had that familiar defiance flickering despite the weariness. I extended a hand, "Hi. I'm Noah Bennett."

She blinked, then a faint smile curved her lips. She took my hand, her grip firm, warm. "Harper West. Nice to meet you."

She stepped back, gesturing inside. "Dinner? I've got... well, canned soup and crackers. Gourmet, I know."

I followed her in, the musty air wrapping around us. "Sounds perfect."

She moved to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets, in quick movements. I sank onto the sagging couch, watching her. As she heated soup, the clatter of a pot grounding the silence, my mind spun. A fresh start. Could we rebuild from ashes? Her betrayal had cut deep.

Maybe we could be something new, but Zane's order loomed, it was a guillotine waiting to drop. Convincing him, Damian, and the others would be a fight. One I had to win.

She set bowls on the coffee table, steam rising, and sat across from me, cross-legged on the floor. "So, Noah Bennett," she said, her eyes searching. "What brings you to my hideout?"

I spooned soup, the warmth grounding me. "Heard you make a mean chicken noodle. Had to see for myself."

She laughed, a sound I hadn't realized I had missed. "Top chef, clearly." Her gaze softened, but I could tell questions lingered in it.

Her hand brushed mine while passing a cracker, and I didn't pull away. The spark was still there. As our bowls emptied, she leaned back, studying me. "Why are you really here, Noah?"

I set my spoon down, "To see if we can start over. Forget the past. You, me, no Atlas, no stories."

Her brows lifted in skepticism. "Start over? After everything?"

"Yeah." I held her gaze, "I'm tired of fighting you, Harper. Let's try something else."

She didn't answer right away, her fingers tracing the rim of her bowl. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. Let's try."

"Great," I stood, grabbing my jacket. "I have to go. But stay here, stay safe. I'll handle things."

Her eyes narrowed. "What things?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." I kissed her forehead, "Trust me."

֍֍֍

FAMILIAR SKIN

AVA

I was allowed a very quick shower before a home nurse tended to my wounds. I sat on the side of the bed and clenched my jaw while I watched as Damian talked with the doctor. I just want to be alone with you.

Somehow, I managed to keep my expression neutral as I struggled to keep all my emotions from spiraling out of control while being kept hostage by Echo.

Finally, the nurse left, and I slipped off the bed. Even though my feet were raw and aching from being dragged barefoot through the damn woods, I walked to the window and pulled the blinds shut.

"I'll take her home first thing tomorrow morning," I heard Damian tell the doctor while I gingerly moved back to bed.

I braced my right hand on the white sheets and sucked in a desperate breath of air.

I heard the door shut, and I glanced at Damian to make sure we were alone. I sucked in another breath of air, then all the trauma I had been forced to endure shuddered through my body.

Damian moved closer to me, and when his fingers wrapped around the back of my neck, I couldn't keep the sobs back any longer. The floodgates open, and every degrading moment, the pain, and the fear all create a chaotic mess in my chest, forcing a broken cry over my lips.

Damian gently pulled me into his arms, and he tried to avoid the burns on my back as he held me to his chest.

I smelled his familiar fragrance, feeling the heat from his body. And finally able to let go of being strong, I broke in his arms.

"I've got you, my love," the words rumbled from him.

I brought my hand up and clutched his shirt in a fist as I struggled to breathe through the sobs. He just held me, giving me a safe place to cry over what was done to me.

They didn't break me. After everything I was forced to endure, I am stronger.

Damian pressed a kiss to my temple, then murmured, "I'm here, you're safe."

Once I managed to calm down, I whispered, "I was so scared I'd never see you again."

He pulled a little back and tilted his head so he could meet my eyes. Using his thumbs to brush the tears off my cheeks, he said, "I'll always come for you."

Seeing the blood splatters on his face and neck, I took his hand and pulled him toward the bathroom. I found a washcloth and wet it beneath the spray. When I brought it to his neck and started to clean the blood off him, he muttered, "Don't worry about it. I'll shower while you're resting."

"Let me do this," I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying.

Once every last drop of blood had been wiped from his skin, I tossed the cloth into the sink. Damian gently picked me up and carried me back into the room. He sat down on an armchair. His arm brushes over the burns on my back, making me flinch. Pressing my face to his chest, I was feeling feverish when the tears stopped, and I just lay still against his chest. Somehow, I managed to doze on and off for a while.

The door opened, and I heard Rico say, "I brought you some clothes from the house."

"Thanks," Damian murmured. "Have the other guys come here so you can get some rest."

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Rico shake his head. "I'm not leaving. I'll be right outside the room."

"Rico," I said as he started to turn around. When he looked at me, I continued, "I'm so grateful." He nodded before pulling the door shut behind him as he left

"Want to move to the bed so you can sleep while I shower?" Damian asked.

I nodded and climbed off his lap. He picked up the bag Rico brought, and when I followed him to the bathroom, he gave me a questioning look.

"I just want to brush my teeth."

Damian set the bag down on the closed toilet lid and dug out a toothbrush and toothpaste for me. I took it from him, and while I cleaned my teeth, he switched on the faucets in the shower.

I watched as he stripped out of his clothes before I rinsed my mouth. Checking the bag, I was surprised to see Rico had packed a satin robe for me. I quickly took off the messy gown before putting on my robe.

Feeling a little better with a clean robe on, my eyes scoured Damian's body, and when I was sure he hadn't been hurt in any way, I walked back to the bed and sat down on the side of the mattress.

I listened to Damian moving in the bathroom while I stared at the red abrasions around my wrists. I am so lucky they got to me in time. It was the closest I had come to dying.

They could have done so much worse to me.

Once Damian had finished in the bathroom, he came back into the room, his eyes instantly locking on me.

"You're not going to sleep?"

"I can't lie on my back or right side," I said. "Can I sleep on your lap?"

"Of course, love."

I waited for him to sit down on the armchair before I climbed on top of him again. Straddling him, I pulled my arms up between us and rested my cheek against his chest.

I lay still for a little while before lifting my head and asking, "Can you remove your shirt?"

Damian tugged the fabric over his head, and when I opened my robe, he muttered with concern, "You're in no condition to have sex."

"I just want to be as close to you as possible." I leaned against him again, and when the heat from his skin soaks into my chest, I let out a sigh.

Much better.

I pressed a kiss to his chest and took a deep breath of his clean, woodsy scent.

I felt Damian's cock harden beneath me, then his hands settled on my hips, and he let out a sigh.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I can feel the heat of your pussy through the sweatpants," he grumbled.

I moved a little back, and reaching down, I pushed down the fabric of his pants to free his cock.

"What are you doing?" The words rumbled from him.

I positioned him at my entrance and slowly sank down on his cock. When he was buried to the hilt inside me, I said, "I just want to feel you everywhere."

"You're warming my cock, Ava?"

"Hmm..." I relaxed against his chest. "Warming my pussy. It was so cold without you."

Damian placed a hand behind my head and pressed a kiss to my hair.

He did not try to fuck me, but instead, let out a satisfied groan as he relaxed beneath me. "I can get used to sleeping like this."

The corner of my mouth lifted slightly. "Me too."

The heat from Damian's body chased the chill from mine, and I closed my eyes.

He deserved a fucking gold medal for the sweet torture I was forcing him to endure.

Then I fucking stirred against his chest, and my taut nipples brushed over his skin.

When my inner muscles clamped around his cock, he let out a harsh breath, sweat beading at the back of his neck. I slowly started to swivel my hips.

He let out a groan, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks. "You're killing me."

"Hmm..."

I rubbed my clit against him, the movements quickly pushing me toward an orgasm.

"Oh, Damian," I moaned, "You're going to make me come."

"Isn't that the plan?" I grunted.

I moaned before starting to press kisses to his penis. "You feel so good." Her teeth tug at my nipple. "You taste even better."

He didn't stand a chance with my sensual torture, and I thrust up once before shooting his release into my wet clit.

His body shuddered from the extreme fucking pleasure after being tortured for hours.

"Christ," he gasped through ragged breaths, his cock jerking inside me while my body loses all strength.

I curled against his chest, my muscles tensing before I felt my orgasm hit. My quivering breaths exploded over my skin, and I buried my hands in his hair to pull his head back so he could claim my lips.

The moment he kissed me, a peaceful feeling filled my heart.

His mouth worshiped mine for long minutes before he finally ended the kiss so I could stare into his beautiful eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." I nodded, then my pussy frees his cock as I climbed off his lap.

Getting up, he followed me to the bathroom, where we cleaned ourselves.