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“You were in shock. He threatened you. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I didn’t believe it. Deep down in my heart, Icouldn’tbelieve it. I knew it wasn’t true… but I didn’t even think about the report being fake.”

I sit next to her, gesturing at the so-called police report. “The fonts are wrong. The header isn’t aligned properly. The language is too casual in places. Badge IDs are missing. There isn’t a clear chain of documentation. It’s a fake – and an insulting one at that.”

She shakes her head slowly. “I’m an idiot.”

“Look at me, Vignette.”

She does.

“Tell me you didn’t believe this, not deep down, not in your heart where it matters.”

“I didn’t,” she whispers.

I kiss her unexpectedly, even taking myself by surprise. She gasps and then gives herself over to me. She opens her mouth like she wants me to push my tongue scintillatingly into her mouth. I groan and slide my hand to her leg, squeezing hard, but then I stop myself.

“You were assaulted tonight,” I say, my voice trembling. “That bastard touched you, grabbed you, threatened you. I’ve known Adrian my whole life. He always seemed jealous of my uncle’s position. When I became Don, I saw the same hints of jealousy. But I never thought he’d take it this far.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“I don’t. I blame him. I blame Viktor. Adrian said you would be… a plaything for the Bratva?”

I can barely say it, my voice shaking, my commitment to Sienna making me savage.

“Yes,” she whispers.

Standing, I pace the room. “You don’t belong to anyone,” I growl. “No one, Sienna, except me. Do you understand that?”

I need to calm down, but I can’t. I return to the bed, grab her thick, tempting thigh, and kiss her again. She gasps and kisses me back, and then my lust takes over. Or maybe it’s more than lust. My primal need for control.

“You should’ve come to me right away,” I tell her.

“I’m sorry.”

“And you didn’t think I did it?”

“No. But I was confused. I’ve never seen a police report before.” When I squeeze her leg harder, she places her hand on my chest. “How can I make it up to you?”

"Don't ask me that now," I snarl. "Not when my blood is boiling. Not when the Don is threatening to shatter my civilized veneer and transform me into a primal beast. Not now, piccola pittrice, when I need to possess you. To dominate you. To prove that you belong to someone— not the Bratva, and certainly not Adrian. You belong to me."

"I'll do anything," she whispers.

"Don't say that," I groan, my manhood throbbing despite the emotional gravity of the situation.

"Don't you need to punish me?" she murmurs.

This is profoundly disturbing, but her words snap something inside me. Rising from the bed, I gesture toward the floor.

"On your knees, Vignette. Now."

She sinks to her knees, looking breathtakingly beautiful as she gazes up at me. Eagerness illuminates her expression, as if she wants to make amends.

I should hold her, console her, and treat her with tenderness. But the Don's darkness within me roars for possession. She's mine. I'm more convinced of that now that another has dared to touch her.

But I need to prove it.

I pull down my shorts and underwear, my cock springing free, the tip already glistening with precome. She whimpers, catching her lower lip between her teeth.