Page 27 of Duchess (Royal Harlots MC: National New York Chapter #1)

Caleb

R eaching across the bed, my hand skimmed the cool silk sheets, instinctively seeking the heat she’d left behind. But the only thing that met my fingers was emptiness.

My eyes opened, narrowing on the absence. The room was quiet, too quiet. Not even the whisper of her breathing remained. I bolted upright, the black silk twisted around my hips, my head still buzzing with the echo of her moans from the night before. But she was gone.

The scent of her clung to the air, wildflowers, leather, and her sweet pussy, an intoxicating mix that lingered in the bedroom.

My hand drifted lower, and I wrapped my fingers around my cock, stroking slowly as memories of last night crashed over me.

Her tight pussy, the way her body clenched around me, how she screamed my name like a reverence and a threat all at once.

I felt it all like a phantom grip, her tight little body wrapped around my cock, a memory so vivid it was as if she still lay beneath me.

I growled low, the sound guttural, primal, the ache in my cock pulsing with need and fury.

She thought she could leave without consequences.

That she could steal from me, ride me like she owned me, make me cum so hard I saw stars, and then vanish into the fucking morning mist without a goodbye.

Let her run. Let her pretend she wasn’t mine.

I stroked myself harder, groaning as my climax ripped through me, the image of her on her knees, mouth open, eyes wild, seared into my brain.

She’d get there again. I’d make sure of it.

Next time I saw her, she’d be the one begging, on her knees, tongue out, ready to be fucked like the filthy girl she is.

And when I was done, when she was gasping my name, she’d finally understand.

She doesn’t get to leave me. Because next time… I wouldn’t let her go at all.

I pushed out of bed, the morning breeze brushing over my bare skin as I stepped onto the balcony.

I looked out over the railing and let out a chuckle as I realized her precious gun was no longer in the pool.

The woman couldn't even leave me a breadcrumb, giving me no choice but to create a plan to bring her back, and in her pride, I was pretty sure she’d fall for it.

That was the Duchess’ only downfall. Nobody told her what to do, but when it meant beating out the enemy, her pride would always get in the way.

But what had me truly laughing, the kind of laugh that vibrated low in my chest, was what she’d taken.

The fucking laptop.

She’d swiped my damn laptop from my study. The same one Leon had encrypted six ways to Sunday. And here’s the thing, she had no idea that letting her steal it was part of the game.

She wanted to play?

I’d play. And I’d make sure to win.

Because Duchess didn’t know who she was fucking with. She thought she was clever, slipping out before sunrise and not letting me have my fill of her before she left.

I wasn’t. I was turned on.

Her pride was the key to everything. That stubborn, bulletproof pride that wouldn’t let her back down from a challenge. It was her greatest weapon, and her biggest weakness. And if there was one thing I knew, it was how to use someone’s weakness against them.

I grabbed my phone and dialed.

"Laura. Cancel my schedule. I want you at the house in twenty."

Her voice filtered through the speaker, sharp and efficient. "Is everything alright, Sir?"

"Perfect," I murmured. "We're planning a party."

She arrived exactly twenty-three minutes later, notepad in hand, ready to work. She followed me into the study, where I tossed my empty whiskey glass onto the bar and turned to her with a wicked smile.

"I want the best caterers. No junk food. We’re talking high-end, Michelin-level service. Champagne towers. Caviar if we must."

She scribbled furiously. "Music?"

"Live. Sexy. Something with a bite."

She paused, the tip of her pen hovering midair. Her brow furrowed. "Sir…what exactly is the theme of this event? How should I present it?"

I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands behind my head. "Tell them it’s a celebration. Company growth. High numbers. Make it exclusive. Only the most senior male execs and board members will be invited."

Her pen scratched across the paper.

"No spouses," I added.

She froze. "No spouses?"

"You heard me. Keep it private and discreet."

"Of course, Sir."

I watched her carefully as I leaned forward again, voice lower now. "And I want you to reach out to the Violent Delights. Let them know they’ll be compensated generously for their appearance. Airfare, accommodations, whatever they need."

She blinked. "I’m not sure how to reach them."

"Leon has the contact. Loop him in."

She nodded and jotted it all down, but the hesitation was there. This wasn’t just any event. This was a game of chess dressed as a party.

"Invite the old man and the Senior tiers. Make it impossible for them to say no."

Her lips thinned. "That may be…difficult."

I shrugged. "Then make it worth their while. If anyone can do it, it’s you, Laura."

She straightened her spine with a small nod. "I’ll do what I can."

I gave her a slow smile as I walked past her, heading toward the back patio where the sun began to dip beneath the hills.

The city below buzzed like it always did, but tonight the electricity wasn’t from the streets. It was from me.

And soon, it would be from her.

Getting her killed wasn’t on my list, but I had this urge to see how she handled being in the spotlight of the Turkish Mafia.