Page 12 of Fire and Silk

Glass shatters against his shoulder. He stumbles.

I scream—full voice, raw and ripping—as I lunge for the door.

Fingers swipe at my back, catch my coat, but I shrug it off, crash into the door, yank it open—

“HELP! HELP ME, SOMEONE—”

My lungs are burning.

I run. Bare feet on cold hallway tile. My vision sways. The edges go soft.

The scent clings to my nostrils—sweet and wrong. I try to keep going but my legs feel heavy and numb. Like they belong to someone else.

I reach the stairs.

Then I fall.

The floor rushes up fast. My shoulder hits first. Then my knee. My temple clips the wall as I crumple, limbs twitching.

The ceiling tilts.

A voice behind me says something I don’t catch.

Then darkness takes everything.

Chapter Two - Severo

Serevo’s Private Quarters – Northern Wing, Dante’s Estate

Her mouth tastes like wine and cherry lip gloss, neither of which I asked for, but both of which I take.

She giggles against my lips, breathless and warm, her fingers sliding under the collar of my shirt as she pushes it open, one button at a time. “You always wear too many clothes,” she murmurs.

I hum, leaning into her neck, teeth grazing lightly just to hear that little gasp she always makes when I—

“Oh,” she breathes, squirming in my lap. “You’re such a bastard.”

“I’m your favorite bastard,” I correct, one hand sliding firmly up her thigh. “And don’t lie. You waited all week to get ruined.”

“I did not.”

“You wore lace under a trench coat. That’s a confession, not a denial.”

She laughs again, head tipping back, and I steal her mouth mid-laugh. A little heat, a little bite. I guide her hips like I’ve got all the time in the world.

And then—

Click.

The door opens without knock. Matteo steps in, perfectly tailored as always. The room sharpens around him.

The woman in my lap stiffens, peels off me quickly, tugging her dress back into place as she rises without a word and vanishes down the side corridor.

Matteo barely glances at her.

“She’s here,” he says, voice clipped.

I stretch, not bothering to fix my shirt. “How easy was it to get her?”