Page 19

18

You Really Do Love Pink, Don’t You?

Hypothetical Question: If you were a ghost, what’s the dumbest way you would haunt people?

Nate

Anonymous: You think no one knows, but I do.

I hit send on the message to Carmichael from the burner phone Kai got me just for this plan.

Then, with the same detached efficiency, I confirm an order to deliver dead roses to his office first thing tomorrow.

A few seconds later, my phone vibrates.

Michael: Who the fuck is this?

I don’t respond. Not yet. Carina should be sending him a message of a similar nature soon—just enough to unsettle him. This is only the beginning.

My gaze lands on the latest article on the disappearances of the rich and famous.

[Anonymous Tip Leads Police to Simon Gardner: Gardner Enterprise CEO Linked to Elite Sex Trafficking Ring—Investigation Underway.]

I scan through it, checking for anything that suggests they’re onto us.

[Another Millionaire Vanishes After Police Tip-Off—Is an Insider Helping Them Escape Before the Story Breaks?]

I huff out a laugh. So, they still think they’re running. Hiding like scared boys.

“Nathan?”

My assistant’s voice slices through my thoughts. No matter how many times I’ve corrected her, she insists on calling me Nathan. At this point, I’ve given up.

I exhale sharply. “Yes, Sarah?”

“You have a meeting at ten with the director of Sanctuary.”

Ah, right. Now, this is a merger I can get behind.

“Send them in.”

The door creaks open, and a woman in her early thirties walks in. Her fitted pencil skirt and unbuttoned blouse—a little too much for a professional meeting—suggest she has more than business on her mind.

“Hi, Nathaniel, is it?”

I grit my teeth. I hate that name. But for business, I tolerate it.

“That’s me.” I motion for her to sit.

“I’m Siena.” Her smile is smooth as she crosses one leg over the other, her skirt riding up slightly.

Intentional? Definitely.

“Have you had a chance to review my proposal?” I ask, skipping the pleasantries. No sense in dragging this out.

“Yes,” she says, leaning in just enough to make her intentions obvious. “We believe the merger could benefit both organisations. I wanted to deliver the good news in person.”

So… this could’ve been an email. Great.

“And you agree to the terms? I take over as CEO. Your staff keeps their jobs and roles—after a performance review.”

“We understand and accept,” she replies smoothly.

That was almost too easy.

Sanctuary is one of the largest support groups for domestic violence. Haven focuses on trafficking survivors—though we support women from all kinds of abuse backgrounds—but I’ve been wanting to expand to provide more tailored support. This merger allows me to do that.

“Perfect. That’s settled then.”

I go to dismiss her, but before I can stand, she leans forward, placing her hand on mine. Her manicured nails trail over my skin as she shifts, giving me an unrestricted view of her cleavage.

I don’t like how Siena is looking at me. Like I’m a prize she’s already won.

Carina is supposed to be stopping by soon. I want to show her the work we’re doing here. I don’t need this to screw things up.

“This meeting is over,” I declare, standing and brushing her hand off. “I have everything I need from you. I’ll be in touch with more details soon.”

I move toward the door, intent on ending this quickly, but before I reach it, a manicured hand presses against my chest, halting me.

Siena steps closer, forcing me to back up until my legs hit the desk.

“What are you doing?” My voice is sharper now, laced with warning.

“I saw the way you looked at me when I walked in.”

What?

I blink. “Looking at you?”

“You were practically undressing me with your eyes, Nathaniel.” Her voice drips with false confidence, her lips curling in a knowing smirk.

The way she says my name makes my skin crawl.

She presses against me, her hand snaking around my neck, tilting her chin up as if she’s about to pull me into a kiss—

The door swings open.

Carina stands in the doorway.

For one frozen second, silence stretches between us. Siena’s hand is still on me. I don’t even breathe.

Then I see it—Carina’s face shifts from shock to something darker. The air crackles with the sharp snap of rage.

My stomach clenches. My heart pounds. But not from fear.

She’s fucking hot when she’s murderous.

“Princess,” I start, raising my hands in surrender. “Baby, this isn’t what it looks like.” My eyes plead with her to believe me.

She doesn’t blink. But her lips curl into something deadly.

“Oh, I know you’re not cheating on me, Nate.” Her voice is syrup-sweet, but there’s venom underneath. “You’re not that stupid.”

That sinister edge makes my pulse quicken.

Siena, finally sensing the shift, starts to step back, but Carina takes a deliberate step forward.

“I think you need to take your hands off my boyfriend,” she warns, her voice dangerously soft, “before you leave here in a body bag.”

Siena yanks her hand away from me like she’s been electrocuted.

“Maybe tone it down just a little, Princess,” I murmur, though internally I’m revelling in her possessiveness. God, she’s sexy when she’s ready to kill someone. I should probably be playing peacemaker, but honestly? I love this.

Carina pouts—pouts—before calling back the homicidal glare. Then she flashes a bright, saccharine smile, that’s somehow even more terrifying.

“That will be all,” she says in that syrupy tone.

Siena practically trips over herself as she scurries out of the room, leaving the door ajar in her haste.

I exhale sharply, pinching the bridge of my nose. Fucking hell. My temples throb from the sheer absurdity of that situation. I drag a hand down my face before gazing at the beautiful menace.

“I am so—” I start, but Carina waves a hand, cutting me off.

“All good. I’m not mad at you.”

I arch a brow. “Sure?” I step closer, sliding my arms around her waist, my hands resting just above the curve of her ass.

Her icy blue eyes lock onto mine, searching—maybe for deception, maybe for hesitation. She finds neither.

“Sure,” she says, lips curving into a wicked grin. “Now, show me what it is you do here.”

Relief seeps into my bones. Crisis averted.

I guide her toward my desk, half-expecting her to perch on the edge. Instead, she hesitates for a fraction of a second before lowering herself onto my lap.

Heat. Pressure. The weight of her against me.

Fuck.

The warmth of her body melts into mine, and suddenly, focusing on my work becomes a fucking herculean task. Still, I bring up the files and reports, my fingers moving across the keyboard in practised efficiency.

For an hour, she sits snugly in my lap, her body fitting against me like she was always meant to be there. The curve of her back brushes my chest every time she leans closer to the screen, and her soft hums of interest filter through the otherwise silent office.

She’s engrossed, but I’m losing the ability to think.

Every shift of her hips is a slow kind of torture, a deliberate grind against my now painfully hard cock. My body has been straining for relief since the moment she settled on me, and I know—I fucking know—that she’s doing it on purpose.

Then she shifts again, pressing down just right, and a low grunt rumbles from my throat.

She laughs—softly, sultry, sinfully.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Careful, Princess,” I warn, my voice rough with restraint. “Or I might take you over my desk right now.”

Her answer? Another slow, teasing grind.

I snap.

In one swift motion, I shove my laptop aside, pressing her chest flat against the desk.

“You want this?” My voice is low, dangerous. A final check before I lose myself completely.

Her breathless whimper cuts through the air. “God, yes.” She arches her ass toward me, her desperation igniting something primal in my blood.

She’s fucking perfect.

“You’ll have to keep quiet so no one comes in to check on us, baby.”

I flick my gaze to the slightly ajar door left open by that crazy bitch Siena. This idea is terrible, but I’m too far gone to care.

Her dress—pink, of course—flows around her thighs, delicate and soft, a stark contrast to the wicked little thing wearing it. I shove the fabric to her waist with a rough tug, revealing the lacy pink thong beneath.

I chuckle darkly. “You really do love pink, don’t you?”

“You want to get into this now?” she mutters, glancing over her shoulder, one brow raised.

Fair point.

I hook my fingers into the lace and rip.

She gasps. “Nate!”

“Shh, Princess,” I murmur, tucking the shredded scrap into my pocket. “What did I say about being quiet?”

She huffs, but it’s quieter this time. “That was my favourite pair.”

I smirk. “I’ll buy you more.”

Her bare, glistening cunt is practically begging for me, but I give in to one last indulgence—dragging my fingers through her wet heat, groaning at how ready she is for me.

“Nate,” she snaps, squirming. “Just fuck me. Please.”

Her plea undoes me.

Grasping her hips, I free my cock, not bothering to push my trousers down fully. I drag the thick, engorged head over her soaked slit, teasing, torturing—

Then I thrust inside.

A ragged moan rips from her throat as I bury myself deep, her walls gripping me like she never wants to let go. Jesus Christ.

“You’re my dream fucking woman,” I growl, driving into her, my hips slamming against hers with an intensity that borders on desperation.

The desk creaks beneath us. The sound of skin against skin fills the office.

Carina’s breathless, incoherent moans spur me on harder, deeper, faster.

I’ll never be able to sit in this office again without thinking about being buried inside her.

Her fingers claw at the desk, her body tightening around me as she climbs higher.

“Nate—fuck—don’t stop.”

Like I could.

“That’s it, baby,” I groan, dragging my palm down her spine before reaching around to flick her clit.

Her sharp cry is muffled against the desk, her inner walls fluttering around me, her orgasm hitting her like a shockwave.

She squeezes me so fucking tight, and it’s my undoing.

With a final, punishing thrust, I spill inside her, my release marking her as mine.

Claiming her.

I collapse over her, pressing lazy kisses along her shoulder, my lips trailing up to her neck. Carina turns her face toward me, and I steal a slow, lingering kiss. It’s not rushed or desperate this time—it’s gentle, grounding, something that feels dangerously close to real.

We clean up in the laziest way possible—tissues, half-hearted swipes, zero effort at damage control—and then pull our clothes back on.

As if nothing happened, she settles back into my lap, scrolling through a report while I try to focus on my laptop.

I’m failing miserably.

Later, as we drive back to her place, the silence between us is comfortable—the kind that doesn’t need filling.

I haven’t slept in my bed in weeks, not since our first real date. And honestly? I don’t miss it.

Waking up next to Carina, her hair a chaotic mess, her leg flung over me like she’s staking a claim, has become… a habit. No—an addiction. My apartment feels empty now, like the saddest fucking king-size mattress in the world.

Her voice breaks the silence. “What made you get into this work?”

The question is casual, unassuming, but it still hits like a slap to the face.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. My jaw locks. I could lie. I could deflect.

But she’s staring at me, waiting. Not letting this drop.

I exhale slowly, the words burning on the way out. “My sister.”

Carina doesn’t say anything, but she turns toward me, her eyes pinning me in place.

Spill it, buddy. I can practically hear her inner monologue.

I let out a rough breath. “Mel. She was my little sister. She was kidnapped when I was ten. She was nine.”

Her soft inhale is barely audible, but I feel it.

“We looked for years,” I say, my voice tightening. “My parents never stopped searching. But we didn’t find her until," my throat threatens to close, but I push the words out, “…she showed up on a trafficking page on the dark web.”

Silence.

The air between us is thick, suffocating. My stomach knots, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Carina’s hand slides over my arm, a steady, grounding touch.

“She couldn’t handle it,” I continue, hating how my voice brakes. “Even after we got her back, the trauma was too much. She didn’t survive.”

I swallow hard, fighting past the lump in my throat.

“My dad pulled away after that. It was like the man I knew disappeared overnight. He got… colder. Harder. Like he decided feelings were optional and not part of the family plan anymore.”

Carina’s fingers tighten on my arm. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Nothing for you to be sorry for, Princess. It’s just… life.”

Her entire body bristles. “No,” she says, voice sharp, almost angry. “It’s not just life. What happened to her, to your family—to me—was monstrous.”

Her words crack something inside me.

“And you’ve turned that pain into something incredible,” she continues, fierce now, eyes blazing. “You’re helping people. You’re saving them.”

The conviction in her voice is undeniable. Unshakable. It catches me off guard—like a punch I didn’t see coming.

“Thanks,” I murmur, my voice rough.

She tilts, studying me like she’s just solved a puzzle.

“You’re like a real-life Arrow,” she says, a teasing smirk on her lips.

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, thrown by the shift. “Arrow?”

“From the DC comics?”

I blink. Then I laugh. A real, unrestrained laugh. Not the bitter, world-weary kind I’m used to after thinking about Mel.

Arrow. It could be worse. It could’ve been Batman.

The tension in the car cracks like an egg, and I realise… I feel lighter.

Letting her in and sharing this part of me doesn’t just make me feel free—like I’ve let her into a part of me no one else sees. Well, except Kai. But Kai doesn’t count. He’s practically furniture.

The thing about Carina?

She gets it.

The darkness. The rage. The drive to fix what’s broken.

But she’s not just sharp—she’s ruthless and compassionate, a mix that shouldn’t work but somehow makes her lethal in the best way possible.

She doesn’t know it yet, but I have plans for her.

She worries about what happens when her revenge ends—like she’ll suddenly have no purpose. But I know better. She’s exactly what Haven needs. A woman who can take down monsters without losing sight of what she’s fighting for.

With her?

The possibilities aren’t just endless. They’re unstoppable.