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She woke up screaming.

It tore through the quiet like a blade. It was filled with grief that didn’t have a place to go.

She bolted upright in the bed, eyes wide, chest heaving. Naked. She hadn’t even woken up when I’d bathed her.

I sat in the corner, watching her. Smoke from my cigarette drifted toward the cracked window, curling like ghost fingers. I hadn’t said a word in over an hour. Just sat there. Thinking. Regretting. Failing.

“I want you to kill her too. She sent him,” she said quietly, voice frayed like old rope.

I didn’t respond right away. I was trying to find a way to explain why Lilith would remain alive.

“Lilith isn’t Sebastian. Her father actually gives a damn about her. Killing her would start something neither of us can walk away from. ”

She laughed, bitter and hollow. “You think I care?”

I didn’t.

“That bitch sent her brother for me. And it sounded like death would’ve been a mercy compared to what he had planned for me.”

Her eyes burned. Her body was shaking. There were purple marks on her throat and cheek, and I hated that I hadn’t gotten there sooner.

“You knew she was crazy when I met you,” she said. “You knew, and you still brought me into this.”

“I thought I could fuck you and forget you. Thought it would be just one night. Now I taste you in everything. You haunt the nightmares I can't outrun. Tell me how to cut you out of my fucking veins.”

I dragged a hand down my face. “Please… tell me.” My voice actually cracked. That had never happened before.

“Do you know how scared I was when you called me?” My voice was lower now.

“I don’t scare easy. I’ve seen shit that would stop most men cold.

But the second you said his name, I…” I swallowed hard.

“I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I thought I’d find you dead.

I almost fucking cried. Tell me how to get rid of these emotions you’ve cursed me with.

I’ve lived most of my life barely feeling anything.

Not real fear. Not love. Not grief. Nothing.

You think I would do this to myself if I had a choice? Tell me how to stop it.”

She was on her feet before I could finish. She moved like someone who hadn’t slept in days—like her bones were vibrating beneath her skin. She stopped right in front of me.

“Don’t cry for me,” she spat. “Not if you’re too scared to kill for me.”

“If you can’t get rid of her, you’re useless to me.”

That stung more than I let on. But maybe she was right. Maybe I was only good at causing damage.

“I can protect you,” I said, my jaw tight. “But I can’t—”

I really couldn’t.

If I killed Lilith, I’d have to kill her father too. And you didn’t kill men like Gabriele Aielloand and just walk away.

Not even me—with all the power I wielded.

I would be signing my own death sentence.

And worse… I’d be signing hers too.

Her hand slapped over my mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed.

Her soft fingers wrapped around my wrist. I let her pull me up and drag me toward the bed. She pushed me down and climbed on top, her thighs already slick as she yanked my boxers down.

Then she sank down on me—hard. Impaling herself on me dick.

No tease. No buildup.

Just heat. Pressure. And a grip so tight, and wet, that my eyes rolled back into my head.

“Fuck,” I growled behind clenched teeth.

She rode me like she wanted to hurt me. Up and down. Over and over. Hard.

The sound of our skin slapping and ragged breathing filled the room. Her nails scraped down my chest, leaving red marks in their wake. Her hair stuck to her sweaty face, eyes wild—caught somewhere between pleasure and rage.

She bounced fast, choking on her own moans.

“Money and dick. That’s the only thing you’re good for,” she snapped, riding me harder. “Not saving me. Not protecting shit.”

I grabbed her hips to slow her down—she slapped my hands away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

Her pussy suctioned and clenched around me so tight it felt like punishment.

I curled my fingers into the sheets. Let her use me.

Her breasts bounced. Her thighs quaked. I could feel myself about to lose it.

But then I saw something shift in her eyes—until they were blank and unreadable.

My heart pounded faster. My mind raced with fear and arousal. I could feel her pulling away mentally even though I could tell she was close to cumming. She threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Her pussy started getting wetter and wetter. My dick was thumping inside of her.

She reached for my gun on the nightstand.

My reaction time was too slow. I barely blinked once before the cold steel smashed down onto the side of my skull.

Once.

Then again.

The last thing I saw and felt was her—still grinding on top of me—as my world turned black.