Page 71
Story: Bad Girl Dilemma
He grabs my face. “Are you okay?”
“I did it,” I gasp, slapping the bag into his chest. “Go. Now.”
We sprint for the extraction route, weaving through champagne-soaked corridors and past leather-masked patrons who have no idea the walls are bleeding.
It’s only when we’re in the safehouse, doors locked, drive in hand, that I let myself exhale.
###
After everything’sbacked up and encrypted, Dante brings me water and pulls me into bed without a word.
We don’t fuck, not this time. We just lie there, legs tangled, foreheads pressed together.
The silence says more than any dirty promise or command ever could.
Because we know. It’s almost over. But I’m not broken.
Not yet.
Because for the first time in my life, there’s no hollow space behind the high of why I’m doing this.
It’s not for the thrill. Not for justice. Not even for the heist.
It’s formore.
And I would do it all again.
Even knowing what’s coming.
CHAPTER 17
Dahlia
The drive is encrypted, triple-locked and hidden.
Dante checked it twice after I checked it twice for tampering, trace signatures, or even ghostware embedded by Vesper. We don’t want what happened with the collar to happen again.
Now we’re in the bedroom, stripped down to skin and silence.
No cuffs. No masks. No roles.
Just the slow glide of his thumb along my spine as I curl into his chest.
He doesn’t speak, but his body says everything. The way he holds me—like I’m precious. Like I’m breakable. Like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
I feel that too.
The weight of what we’ve done. What we’re becoming.
The shift in us isn’t loud or fireworks or declarations. It’s smaller than that. Slower. The way he pulls the blanket over me like I’m the single light in his obsidian universe. The way his hand never leaves mine.
“You okay?” he asks finally, voice like gravel and night.
I start to nod, then pause. “No.”
He shifts to look at me, brows furrowed.
“I’m not okay, Dante,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what happens next. But I know what just happened back there. I know what I felt when I saw your face waiting for me. When I ran toward you like you were home. It… scares me.”
“I did it,” I gasp, slapping the bag into his chest. “Go. Now.”
We sprint for the extraction route, weaving through champagne-soaked corridors and past leather-masked patrons who have no idea the walls are bleeding.
It’s only when we’re in the safehouse, doors locked, drive in hand, that I let myself exhale.
###
After everything’sbacked up and encrypted, Dante brings me water and pulls me into bed without a word.
We don’t fuck, not this time. We just lie there, legs tangled, foreheads pressed together.
The silence says more than any dirty promise or command ever could.
Because we know. It’s almost over. But I’m not broken.
Not yet.
Because for the first time in my life, there’s no hollow space behind the high of why I’m doing this.
It’s not for the thrill. Not for justice. Not even for the heist.
It’s formore.
And I would do it all again.
Even knowing what’s coming.
CHAPTER 17
Dahlia
The drive is encrypted, triple-locked and hidden.
Dante checked it twice after I checked it twice for tampering, trace signatures, or even ghostware embedded by Vesper. We don’t want what happened with the collar to happen again.
Now we’re in the bedroom, stripped down to skin and silence.
No cuffs. No masks. No roles.
Just the slow glide of his thumb along my spine as I curl into his chest.
He doesn’t speak, but his body says everything. The way he holds me—like I’m precious. Like I’m breakable. Like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
I feel that too.
The weight of what we’ve done. What we’re becoming.
The shift in us isn’t loud or fireworks or declarations. It’s smaller than that. Slower. The way he pulls the blanket over me like I’m the single light in his obsidian universe. The way his hand never leaves mine.
“You okay?” he asks finally, voice like gravel and night.
I start to nod, then pause. “No.”
He shifts to look at me, brows furrowed.
“I’m not okay, Dante,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what happens next. But I know what just happened back there. I know what I felt when I saw your face waiting for me. When I ran toward you like you were home. It… scares me.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92