Syrena

When his mouth covers mine, I stop breathing completely.

My heart skips a beat.

He’s kissing me.

He’s actually kissing me.

My brain can’t even process this reasonably as my lips start to kiss him back. Feverishly. As if I’ve seriously lost my mind.

Wait … what?

I’m actually kissing him back.

My mouth quickly unlatches, and I pause, licking my lips. I can still taste him.

My body is hot and heavy as he hovers so fucking close to me that I almost start kissing him again.

But that would be insane. Why would I kiss my captor back like that?

Like I actually want it?

I frown and shake my head.

What’s wrong with me?

The silence between us is deafening as he moves back just a bit.

“Forget that ever happened.”

And suddenly, he’s gone.

Just like that.

Too far for me to touch. Too far … to change my mind.

I touch my lips and immediately pull back. They’re still buzzing, tingling with heat and desire.

What the hell?

I should hate him. Despise him for keeping me locked up in here, yet … the moment he kissed me, I wanted nothing than for him to kiss me and take me.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling to me, and it terrified the living shit out of me.

I’ve kissed and fucked a few men before … back at Roy’s club … but they never gave me this …

This uncontrollable desire to put my lips on his.

Fuck. It’s wrong.

I was just overjoyed when he mentioned sending the photograph with the text to Ella and Cage, and I couldn’t stop myself from hugging him. But then he suddenly kissed me.

And I let him.

Not because I wanted to misuse his trust or to make him fall for me so he’d let me go.

I let him … because it felt good.

Fuck.

“I’m going to work,” he suddenly calls out from the hallway.

Work? Now?

I shift on the couch. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want. But don’t try to force your way out. I’d hate to have to fix everything, and it won’t get you anywhere.” His voice isn’t threatening, but it’s definitely a warning.

“Fine,” I say, folding my arms, trying not to sound like an idiot because I’m still stunned by what just happened.

“I’ll be back home soon,” he says.

Great. Maybe then we can discuss what happened.

Or not. Maybe it’s best if we both ignore it.

I mean … he knew as well as I did what my plan was. He saw through it right away.

But this isn’t how it was supposed to go. At all.

* * *

Chase

The pen between my fingers furiously sways up and down as I sit back in my chair and pretend to listen to the other board members of my company, Chase Enterprises—a conglomerate selling luxury vehicles and boats to ultra-rich clients.

I didn’t just roll into this position. I built this company up from the ground, investing what little money I had when I finished college into a startup. It kept growing, and I kept hiring more people, and here we are today.

We’re having a meeting about some schmuck who decided to fuck up the nationally broadcasted commercial without consulting us. Of course, he’s gonna get fired, so I don’t even see the point in discussing this.

I’m not even interested, to be honest. I don’t know the dude, and quite frankly, I don’t even care. My mind is still at home, where she is … and with every passing second, I wonder what she’s doing.

If she’s thinking about me the way I am about her now.

If she feels the same way about that kiss as I do.

If she can still taste me on her lips.

Because I can taste her.

Every time I swipe my tongue along the rim of my mouth, my cock gets harder.

It’s wrong, but my body won’t stop responding to the thought of having her, and that kiss… it pushed me over the edge.

I don’t even know why I kissed her. It just happened.

I longed for her so much that I couldn’t stop myself anymore. In fact, I’m almost thinking of doing it again.

Fuck.

She’s half my age. Twenty, at most. Why am I even thinking about this?

But damn, that kiss was exactly what I needed. Made me think about things I really shouldn’t be thinking about, especially not right now, during this meeting.

“Chase?”

Everyone suddenly looks at me, and I stop staring at my pen, stop flicking it entirely as I open my mouth. “Sorry?” I clear my throat.

“Are you for or against?”

“What?”

One of them raises a brow. Of course, I got caught daydreaming. Like it hasn’t ever happened to them.

“Fire him, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Another one frowns. “Are you sure? He’s been a great asset to this company during the past few years. Two slipups should be allowed, right?”

“Except this slipup got us national attention. And I don’t mean in a good way.” I put the pen down when I almost break it. “That sexist commercial got the online community up in arms. Our community managers on Facebook can barely keep up with the backlash in the posts.”

They’re waiting for me to say more, but I have nothing else to say. There is no coming back from this “slipup.” I don’t condone these types of commercials for my brands.

I place my fingertips against each other and say, “Fired. End of story.”

“All right. Five votes against four. The decision is made,” the chairman says, and he nods. “Let’s take a break. We could probably all use a cup of coffee, I think.”

As everyone gets up and moves toward the door, I stay seated and turn around toward the window, watching the outside world go by. Those people down there … I wonder how many of them are twisted. How many of them are corrupt. How many of them should’ve been killed.

That was why I had to be very selective of my board members. I don’t just allow anyone to join my company and rise in the ranks. I need to know whether they’re immune to corruption. To greed. To everything that makes this world evil.

Because I don’t want to have to end up killing one of my own board members.

That’d be too sadistic. And bad for the company, might I add.

No, I prefer keeping this place as clean and perfect as can be. Our image must be perfect, so we must be perfect. I expect nothing less from everyone in my company. If they fail … they go. Except now, I’m starting to wonder if I’m the one who should be going next.

I’ve been anything but perfect these past few days. Ever since she came into my life, I’ve found it increasingly hard to resist sin. I’ve done something unforgivable to this human being, but I know it was for a good reason.

I had to know if I was just like them … evil.

Turns out, I couldn’t do it.

But now I’m stuck with her. And I can’t let her go.

Not even if I wanted to.

She’s taken over my mind to the point that I’m becoming obsessed. Every damn second of the day, she seems to be all I can think about, and it’s annoying the fuck out of me.

What is it about this woman who makes me so weak?

I tap my fingers together and narrow my eyes, trying to think of a solution, but I come up with nothing. There is nothing I can do … nothing but give in.

Either to her … or to death.

Because if I ever get caught by the cops for giving those who do evil the justice they deserve, I will take matters into my own hands.

Suddenly, my phone rings, so I take it out of my pocket and answer it.

“Have you freed her yet?” It’s Brandon.

“No.”

Not this again.

“Why not?”

I don’t have to explain it to him, but I’ll amuse him. Just this once. “You know why.”

“You can’t just keep her to keep yourself in check. She’s not a pet.”

“I told you why I was doing this before we even started,” I hiss. “Don’t bring this on me now.”

“Weren’t you the one who always yammered on about doing the right thing?”

“This is the right thing. She’s alive, isn’t she?” I whisper-yell. I don’t want my colleagues to hear.

“At what cost?”

“Look, why are you even calling me right now? Just to tell me I’m bad? I already know,” I retort.

“Because you’re slipping, and you told me to warn you when you did,” he says.

I clench the phone in my hand. “Don’t …”

“Let her go then.”

“I. Can’t,” I shout back, then I end the call, staring at the phone for a few seconds before chucking it at the wall.

Fuck.

“Fuck!” I hiss, picking it up again.

Luckily, it still works, but the screen is broken.

Why did he have to call me? Why does he always have to remind me of what I’ve done? Does he enjoy it? Of course, he does. He likes to see me writhe because we’re both the same, he and I. We both enjoy witnessing the misery of bad people … and I’m becoming one of them now.

Motherfucker.

Sometimes, I really wish we weren’t so much alike.

Brandon can see right through me, which is why I’m so pissed off. I don’t like it when someone knows exactly what goes on in my mind. When I’m going down the wrong path.

I know it, yet I also know I’m powerless to stop it.

I started my descent long ago. The moment I decided to contact Graham and set up a meeting. Then everything after that fell into place like dominoes.

The only question now is what will happen?

Her.

That’s what’s going to happen.

Right now, everything revolves around her.

I turn around and grab my laptop. I turn on the connection to the cameras in my home and sit back until I’ve found her. She’s switching channels on the television, probably listening to the news. I wonder how long it’s been since she last heard other people—besides me, Graham, and the people she was stuck with in the compound—talk.

She stares at the television like a child experiencing everything brand new, and it captivates me. After a while, she gets up and starts exploring the house again. It’s then that I notice she’s wearing nothing but a shirt … my shirt, to be exact.

I swallow.

She grabs an apple from the bowl on the kitchen countertop and takes a bite. The juices flow down her mouth, and I lick my lips as I salivate with greed.

Not from hunger for food … but from hunger for her.

Fuck.

I close the laptop and rub my chin, annoyed. I still have work to do, but at this point, I honestly don’t give a shit about this meeting anymore. We’ve discussed everything already, so what point is there in staying? None.

I get up and grab my coat. They can figure shit out without me. I don’t care anymore.

I have to do something about this antsy feeling in my body, this twitch that keeps popping up in my lips.

Savage needs are running sky high right now.

I just don’t know whether I want to fuck … or kill.

But the decision is easily made when I think about what’s waiting for me at home.