Loud cheers erupt as I hop on stage and wave at everyone while the chief of the New York Police Department holds the diploma for me, a bright smile on his face. “You deserve it, kid.”

Fuck yes, I do!

“Thank you,” I reply, and quickly get down while Chloe and Simone clap like proud moms whose kid has finally graduated.

“Relax, girls.”

They hug me instantly, and then Chloe whispers into my ear, “You are almost there.” Pleasure spreads through me as I squeeze her tighter and look up, hoping my parents are proud of me.

Through all the sleepless nights working at the local coffee shop while busting my ass for my master’s degree and then attending the police academy with no one on my side, the only thing that’s kept me going is the knowledge that I’ll do something good for the community.

That I’ll be able to stop those monsters who so carelessly destroy all those lives that deserve better.

“Now we need to get you out of the dump you’ve been living in.” Simone scrunches her nose, a horrified expression crossing her face as she imagines my studio on the outskirts of the city with the most affordable rent.

“I can’t now. I need to finish my internship with the FBI, and only then can I find a job to afford a decent place.” I heard from a girl who worked there that it would play in my favor later on if I interned with them, so that’s my intention.

Chloe and Simone shake their heads in disbelief. “Do you have any savings?”

I nod, not wanting to elaborate on my secret.

Mainly, I help a private investigator with his cases when he needs to figure out if the spouse is cheating or who is stealing. Not much psychology is used, but hey, at least it gives me experience in the investigative work and pays the bills nicely.

In addition, I mostly take pictures when following people, and there is an unmistakable thrill about holding a professional camera in your hands and allowing the beauty to come out of it.

Sometimes at night, what-if thoughts come to me, like imagining what would have been if I’d chosen photojournalism as my profession the way I always dreamed of. But those moments are rare, and it’s enough for me to glance at my family photo to remind myself that now my career has a purpose.

“Okay. Then let’s go to my place, order pizza, and have some wine.” They hook their arms with mine, while dragging me in the direction of the exit, probably thinking they can hide their intentions. It’s the moment all families start taking pictures, enjoying their time, and my friends want to spare me any poignant emotions.

A sad smile tugs on my lips as I tighten my hold on them and thank God that at least with everything else fucked up, he gave me my friends and my career.

Somehow, this will have to be enough for the rest of my life.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t be an agent.” The words are like cold water splashed over me.

Swallowing down the resentment in my throat, I ask, “Why?”

The man sitting behind the desk watches me carefully as if weighing his next words. But then he exhales heavily. “Truth be told, Ella, you’d be perfect. You have a degree, police academy experience, internship, recommendations, and you are smart. Not to mention, you were one of the best in your class.”

“But?” I don’t need his long-ass speech about me being good. I already know that anyway. But why has this man allowed other students to get their badges and then kicks me out of the academy.

Does he even realize he just crushed the future I have so desperately worked for?

“You are mentally not suitable for this job. Your past—” He takes a deep breath, his voice becoming gentle. “It will make you emotional on the job. It could trigger memories. With you, there is always a risk. You didn’t pass the test.”

Yeah, I failed just one fucking question when they asked me how I felt about what happened to me.

Maybe I got a little bit emotional, but how can they turn it against me?

“Your decision is final?”

He nods, and I grab my file. “Thanks for nothing, then. Goodbye.”

I open the door to get the hell out of this place before tears threaten to spill, when his voice stops me. “For what’s it worth, I think you would have been a great agent.” A beat passes. “No one can outrun their past.”

Yeah, well, fucking watch me.

Ella

“Is this really necessarily?” I wonder aloud as the cab stops at the famous club in town that has a line as long as the Grand Canyon. Simone bursts out laughing while Chloe glares at her.

“Don’t encourage her behavior.” She fishes for a twenty for the cab driver, and we all get out, our heels clicking on the concrete while the barely audible music can be heard behind the club doors.

Several bouncers stand scanning the crowd before letting them inside. I don't miss how the majority of them are turned away and some of them even cry.

I raise my brow at this, hiding my smile, because the idea of being sad over such a minor thing is truly hilarious to me.

While I have nothing against clubbing—sometimes I even seek it out—I don’t feel like doing it on my birthday. Turning twenty-nine is special and all, no regrets there, but my birthday always reminds me of my family. So Chloe always insists we do some shit on it, like coming to this establishment, for that very reason. I know this one was created by Damian Scott a few years ago, but that guy disappeared, never to be seen again.

I have no clue who is in charge now, but clearly the rules haven't changed.

Chloe bounces to the guys, flashing them a grin as she hooks her arms into Simone’s and mine. “We are here to party, boys.” One of them opens his mouth to say something, but then his eyes run down our figures.

He nods as if finding us good-enough looking, and then he opens the rope for us to enter. I want to knock him upside the head for doing that, and Chloe must have guessed my mood, as she quickly drags me to the hallway.

Well, the club is something else; I’ll give the owner that.

Gold wallpaper covers the walls while the floor is made of black, shiny stone, which allows women to walk freely in their high heels. Dancers move with grace on stage, probably arousing every male in proximity; waitresses wear provocative gold shorts, black corsets, and black stockings with stilettos. The light is dim, and the air is oddly fresh. Pearls dangle from the completely mirrored ceiling, decorate the corner booths that are upholstered in gold velvet, and add a touch to the exquisite diamond chandelier, which somehow manages to give the club a mysterious allure. There are couches and VIP lounges, and apparently a VIP corner on the second floor with a mirrored-glass balcony offering a view to the whole club… and several bouncers. I have a feeling there are cameras too, but they aren't visible. People look as though they’ve stepped out of a Vogue magazine, and they spend time trying to be sophisticated as they drink and dance, and now I understand the crowd outside.

The people who are here received a private invitation and are the elite, the high society of Manhattan. So all the folks outside waiting in line are meant to be playthings for the invited elite. The bouncer first had to be sure the people had good assets and would sell well. Sex could be bought. Especially in a society like theirs.

Simone marrying a rich magnate surely opens the doors for us we never expect, but then Chloe loves it.

I’m neutral. I can’t say I mind coming to nice places, because honestly, who would? But it’s not as if I make it my mission to attend every fabulous place in this city.

Simone points at the booth in the middle of the club and screams over the music. “Let’s get a table and then order something. I’m starving.” Even though clubs are generally places to drink, this expensive establishment has one of the best cuisines in the world, and it’s worth every penny. It’s a crime to come here and not eat.

I’m about to trail behind them when I notice Tim waving at me frantically from the bar, and a smile spreads across my face. “Be right back,” I say, pointing at Tim, and Chloe winks as I dart toward him. In a second, I hug him over the counter as he squeezes me tightly.

“Hey, girl!” He leans back and whistles. “Come here for a kill tonight?”

I laugh while pushing my hair over my shoulder, glancing down at my tight, black dress that emphasizes my petite form. The red lipstick is the only color I’ve used in my attire.

“Not at all.”

Tim wiggles his brows. “No shame in wanting to score, babe.” Tim and I met in our last year of high school. He dreamed about becoming a musician. He would play his new songs to me in the basement of his parents’ house and dream about forming a band, although he never clicked with anyone.

He still plays occasionally, but most of the time, he prefers bartending. I know his parents are extremely rich, so I don’t understand why he never did anything with his life.

I don’t feel like asking either. We catch up from time to time in a bar or some common parties, but that’s about it. He once tried to hook up with me, but I refused. Friends are off-limits for one-night stands, just one of my rules.

“Today is my birthday.”

His jaw drops. “Well, shit.” But then he quickly grabs the silver shaker from behind him and gets all the ingredients for a manhattan. “It’ll be done in no time and on the house.” The drink is usually stirred, but I’ve learned a long time ago that Tim has his own ways.

“What will the boss say?” I question, not wanting him to get in trouble over this stupid birthday stuff.

“He has no objections, trust me.” He agitates the shaker, and then continues, “So I heard you finally found a way to work as a criminal psychologist. Digging serial killers now, huh? I always said you crave the dark side, wild girl of mine.”

Plastering my palms on the counter, I whisper, “You have no idea.” He stops his movement as if unsure what to think about my words, but then he must have noticed my mischievous smile, because he grins. Then he whistles to a nearby waiter. “Hey, J! Ask the DJ to change the song to ‘Serial Killer’ by Lana Del Rey. Fits the mood.” And then he continues to amuse me while I wait for my drink so I can return to my friends and celebrate my birthday.

If I’m in the club, I might as well use the opportunity to have fun and let loose.

I’ll have time for grief and work tomorrow.

Psychopath

She bursts out laughing again, running her hand through her silky black hair as she enjoys the company of the skinny blond, who efficiently creates drinks for all the demanding people. Her perky ass is visible through the dress as she leans forward, and my hands twitch to spank her, so she’ll know not to flirt with anyone else.

Wanting her has nothing to do with sex; in fact, it’s the last thing on my mind. I crave to hurt her, so her mind will be filled with only me and the fear of what I might do to her. With her, I won’t have to hide, and just imagining it makes me harder than I’ve ever been in my life.

But the fact that her attention belongs to another man displeases me to the point of the glass cracking in my hand, cutting slightly into my skin, but I don’t give a fuck.

I’m the most important man in the world for her to be with, and she shouldn't look at mere individuals like that guy.

People like me don’t feel remorse, so she should be very careful. For the idea of a sexual high with her, I can eliminate anyone standing in my path without thinking twice.

When mine strolls around the city, easy prey for men, would I do nothing about it?

No fucking way.

“Is that Ella?” one of my colleagues asks.

I can’t call them friends if most of the time they act like idiots and can’t even catch me. But then again, for that, you’d have to be smarter than me, and that’s impossible for them.

“Yeah,” I reply, and then she spins around with her red drink in hand, sucking on the straw. She scans the place, probably for her friends, but then her gaze lands on us, and her eyes widen as her breath hitches for a second.

And I hate it.

Because who she wants is not me.

Ella

I can’t believe this! The one night I decide to go out, and my coworkers are out too.

Granted, it’s not forbidden, but I didn’t plan to wear a short dress and heavy makeup in front of my boss!

Talk about him not taking me seriously.

Right in front of me, I see Noah, Preston, and Kierian occupying a booth with whiskey and nuts on their table, while women nearby trail their fingers on their glasses and bite their lips, eating up the attention Kierian gives them when he only chuckles and winks.

Noah frowns at him, gulping his whiskey, and Preston just quietly sits there, uncomfortable about the whole thing. I have no idea why he is even here, considering he barely leaves the lab.

Clubbing doesn't seem to suit him much, as harsh as it sounds.

I try to blend between the bodies, but I have no such luck, when Noah calls, “Ella!” I pause and then plaster a smile on my face, turning around and facing them once again, but now their whole attention is on me.

They rise from their seats as I come closer, tugging my hair behind my ear. “Hi, guys. I didn't see you.”

“Right,” Kierian says, and I barely restrain myself from snapping at him, because no one on this planet confuses me more than this guy.

He is hot and cold, a whore, and a mastermind who knows his job. He is sweet one moment and then gruff the next; his constant mood changes give me whiplash.

And most importantly, I don’t understand why it bothers me so much and why I think about him all the freaking time. It’s not like I don't have more serious matters to attend to. Or that it was me who pushed him away.

One-night stand, Ella. He was a one-night stand.

But somehow repeating those words in my head doesn’t help me, and I want to scratch the women’s eyes out for admiring him too much.

I sip a bit more of my drink, hoping it will ease my stupid emotions, and flash them a grin. “Well then, have fun. I’m here with friends, so—” The words barely leave my mouth, when Chloe wraps her arm around my shoulders.

“Well, hello there. Are you here to celebrate this girl’s birthday as well?”

I groan inwardly, because the minute she says that, Preston and Noah blink and quickly congratulate me.

“Happy birthday, Ella,” Noah says, and Preston just grunts.

Great.

“Would you like to—” Chloe starts, but I quickly cut her off, not wanting to spend this evening with them. It’s one thing to see them, another to drink with them.

I prefer to have my own personal space and not be worried what I might do drunk while my boss watches me.

“Well we don’t want to bother you. Have fun tonight, guys.” They raise their glasses and I spin around, but not before I see Kierian’s eyes flash and hear some girl calling his name from the back.

Whatever.

Even though my fury has no logic, it rushes through me in waves, demanding to crush something.

I’m losing my mind with this job.

Once we reach the booth, I sit on the side that doesn’t allow them to see me, and the assault from my friend starts.

“Wasn’t that—”

“Yes.”

“And that night, you guys—”

“Yep.”

“And now you two work together?”

Huffing in annoyance, I reply, “What’s with the questions?”

Chloe grins and Simone whistles. “Someone is touchy about the subject, it seems.”

“I don’t see the point in this conversation, that’s all.”

Simone motions for the waiter, and says, “Can we have a few tequila shots?” The guy nods and she returns her attention to me, tipping her head to the side, and I shift uncomfortably under her stare. “You like him,” she states, and I almost choke on my drink.

“No, I don’t. He is just annoying.” My cheeks heat up from the lie, but really, they’ll blow this out of proportion and—

“Oh my God, she so does.” Chloe nudges Simone in the side. “The last time we saw her this riled up over a guy was in high school, when Colton kissed her.” Simone nods as they share a laugh, and I give them a nasty look that probably says I want to kill them both.

“Ha, ha. Now can we please move to another subject?” The waiter places our shots on the table along with some nuts, and we salute him. “It’s my birthday, so shouldn’t I be the center of attention?” Normally, I hate it, but anything is better than them drilling me about Kierian.

“You’re right, of course,” Chloe says, and I exhale in relief, but then she continues. “But it’s this guy or your job. And no offense, babe, but we are tired of hearing about your job.” Considering nothing else happens in my life, it doesn’t surprise me much. “So… is he into you or not? Because it sure looked like it from my corner.”

Finishing my drink, I lean back in the chair, cocking my head. “He is and would like more, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because we work together, and if it goes south, it’ll be an uncomfortable situation.”

“You don’t know that.” Chloe seems bothered by my words, shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I do. It’s me. None of my relationships work out, so it’s a pretty good guess.”

They stay silent, all humor gone from them, and my brows furrow.

“You are not broken.” Simone grabs my hand, squeezing it. “You can have a relationship if you want.”

“This seriously is not the time—”

“I think it is,” Chloe interrupts me, anger flashing in her eyes. “If you like this guy, then try. Even if doesn’t work out, what do you have to lose?”

“Honestly, you guys are making a much bigger deal of this—”

“I love you, you know?” Chloe says, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it lightly. “But I don’t think you ever truly moved on.” They both grow silent.

So much for my fucking birthday celebration.

“I love you too, and I promise if I really want to go after him, I will.”

It takes a while, but they nod and we lift our drinks. “To the birthday girl—may she celebrate next year with the love of her life.”

Rolling my eyes, I decide to ignore their words.

We toss back our shots quickly and then munch on a few nuts, because we rarely drink anything stronger than wine.

The music is blasting through the speakers, and as the fiery liquid slowly transfers from my stomach to my brain, I begin to move the upper part of my body to the beat. “All this heavy talk has no place today. How about dancing?”

They eagerly nod, and within a few minutes, we are dancing it off on the dance floor to some club track, when it stops abruptly.

Everyone shares confused looks, until the DJ shouts, “This one is for Ella Gadot, who has a birthday today.” People whistle while my cheeks heat up.

I glance at the girls. “It’s Tim. He requested ‘Serial Killer’ by Lana Del Rey for me.”

“Nice.” Simone moves her arms, because it’s her favorite song too, but the song that starts to play is not that.

It’s by the same singer, but it’s called “Gods and Monsters.”

A giggle erupts from the girls. “So fitting though.”

Giving them the bird, which only makes them laugh, I close my eyes and give myself completely to the music, swaying from side to side as we scream with the lyrics to the song.

Someone pushes me from behind, and I end up in strong arms that immediately spin me around, bringing me face to face with Kierian.

“Caught you,” he whispers while I laugh and grip his shirt.

“You won’t give up, will you?”

He shakes his head, removing strands of hair from my forehead and nuzzling my neck, breathing me in.

The music changes to a slow dance as he presses us against each other, and we gently move to the beat of the song. With each movement, I feel his rigid muscles and hold tight to him.

We haven’t even done anything, and my head is already dizzy, craving more. “This is a bad idea.” He gives me a half smile as he bites my earlobe and then soothes it with his tongue, sending sparks directly to my core.

“Those are usually the best kind.” He captures my mouth with his, slowly nipping my lips as if asking permission for entrance before biting lightly, earning himself a gasp.

I open under his assault, and his tongue seeks mine, kissing me intensely while his hand slides into my hair, not allowing me to move away from him.

It’s a kiss that for the first time in my life stakes a claim on me; it lets me know this man wants to be the only one who has access to my lips from now on. My knees buckle, but he catches me, not leaving even an inch between us, and when he finally lets go, I breathe deeply, inhaling his scent, which only enhances my desires.

“I have to have tonight, Ella, or I’ll go insane.”

“We can wait.”

He growls against my lips, nipping my chin. “Can you? You don’t want me to fuck you so deep and hard that you’ll feel me for days afterward?”

His words instantly send a thrill through me and my core clenches. I realize I won’t be able to wait at freaking all.

Giving him one more kiss, I say, “I’m here with the girls who planned all this for my birthday. I won’t leave them. But you can come home with me after.”

With one last peck, I go back to the girls, and the next hour is spent with us dancing and drinking and having fun, all the while looking forward to the continuation of the night.

The time has come to be daring and, for once, to do something for myself.

Ella

The cab stops in front of my building, and Simone says rather loudly, “We are here.” Chloe snickers while the cabbie just sighs. He has protective grandpa written all over him.

“You are drunk,” I say, and fish for the money, because in their comatose states, I highly doubt they’ll manage to pay the guy. He already knows the address.

I kiss them each goodbye on the cheek and get out, and quickly dial David.

“Hello?”

“They should be home in about ten minutes, so I’d advise you to wait for them outside.” David usually hangs out with Peter, so he’ll be there to pick up his wife as well.

He barks a laugh. “Sure thing, Ella. Happy birthday. Love you!”

“Yeah, me too.” Hanging up, I quickly climb the stairs, only to see a man leaning on the brick wall, and I almost scream before I recognize Kierian.

“Could you be more subtle?” I ask, and he grins.

“Why waste time, right” Electricity prickles between us, but I pass him by and quickly run to the elevator, where he joins me in three quick strides.

It feels like an eternity while we wait for the elevator, neither of us saying anything, and when we get inside, being in close proximity to him in a small space doesn’t really help the matter.

Finally, we reach my floor and I end up by the door.

Sliding in the key, I barely have time to enter my apartment before Kierian presses me against the door, his mouth seeking mine. I toe off my shoes, and I think he does the same, because as we sway to the side, I step on his bare feet and tingles rush through me from the contact with his skin.

While he drags us to my room, I unbutton his shirt and slide it off his shoulders, and then I move to his belt buckle, desperately needing to feel him in my hands.

We do all this while kissing, and finally the back of my calves touch the bed as he locks his arm around me while whispering my name and leaning into my neck for his hungry assault. “I’ve been going crazy with need to fuck you since our last time.” His words send a shock directly to my clit as he rubs against me. I still feel him despite our clothed state. My whimper doesn’t go unnoticed as he drags me closer. “Missed me, Ella?” I nod eagerly. “Is this pussy wet for me? Ready for the one cock that can bring it satisfaction?”

I don’t have a chance to reply, as he rips my dress in two, the buttons flying in different directions as he leaves me standing in my lacy thong. The dress didn’t allow a bra. “Fuck. Mine was walking around like that in front of other men?” he growls.

He pushes me to the bed, and I fall onto it, breathing heavily. My body is buzzing with need as he slowly removes the belt from the loops. It drops to the floor along with everything else, leaving him gloriously naked for me to admire every muscle, dip, and a noticeable scar that he most likely got on the job.

He sinks to his knees, rubbing his hands against the sensitive skin of my thighs, and I hiss as he bites one down, inhaling my scent. “You are soaked,” he mutters, moving my panties to the side, and without warning, he enters me with his tongue, darting along the inside of my core and spreading the wetness around it. His thumb flicks my clit, as he tightly grips my leg, which is thrown over his shoulder, not letting me escape him… as if I would try.

“Kierian,” I moan, and he surges deeper, completely owning me with his mouth. His tongue travels over my folds, laving them with the attention and hunger they’ve been denied for so long.

He cups my ass cheeks and laps at my core with his full mouth, making sure to play with my clit with his upper lip. I bite my fist, muffling a groan while my other leg bends on the bed, giving him wider access to work in.

“You. Are. Mine,” he growls against me, digging his fingers into my skin as a hint of pain touches me. “Don’t ever deny me again.”

In this moment, I’m ready to agree to anything as long as he continues doing it.

“I won’t.” My voice is coated in lust and desire. My vision blurs the more he licks and sucks as though he is a starved man who has been denied his favorite treat.

Lacing my hands in his hair, I grind on his mouth, adding friction, and with each suck, I go higher and higher. And then he pushes a finger inside me, and my breathing becomes raspy.

“Don’t stop,” I cry out, and he doesn’t. He adds one more finger and it feels like he is everywhere.

Then he lifts my ass higher and concentrates all his attention on my clit, massaging it with his thumb while pushing his tongue in and out, finding that magical spot inside me.

My body tenses, awareness rushing through me as my orgasm hits me hard, and I tremble, jerking my body from him.

Instead of it calming me though, I need more.

He slowly kisses up my stomach to my breasts, where he fondles them and sucks gently on the taut peaks. He licks them with the tip of his tongue while squeezing both at the same time, and I groan, palming his face and raising it up for a kiss.

I can taste myself on him, but I don’t care. His kiss is possessive, aggressive, greedy. I think if he had a plan to make me come with just his kisses alone, he would have accomplished it.

As his hard-on digs into my stomach, my hands slide lower, enveloping it in a tight grip. He groans above me while I admire his thick length that pulses with need. I fist it back and forth, and my mouth waters to taste him, but he must read it in my eyes, as he mutters, “Not today, Ella. Tomorrow or any other fucking day, you can play with it all you want and give me the heaven of your hot mouth, but not today. I’m barely holding on to my control as it is.” And for a second, he lets me go as he fishes for his jeans and then throws them back on the floor.

I notice the foil packet in his hand as he opens it then quickly rolls the condom on. He opens my legs wider and drags the tip of his cock against my wetness, rubbing and entering me with the tip, teasing me.

“Kierian, don’t tease.”

He bites on my neck harshly as he growls. “No teasing?”

I shake my head, but reply anyway, “No.”

“You want hard fucking only, Ella?”

“Yes!” That’s all I want in this freaking moment. So can he get on with the program already, and—

With one swift motion, he surges inside me, tearing a scream from me that he immediately covers with his mouth. He thrusts deep, deep, then deeper into me, shaking the bed with his force. I wrap my legs around him as he entwines our fingers above my head.

He is slow, steady, and hard. He waits until each thrust shakes my entire system before giving me another one, and each time, the pleasure rises in me higher and higher, my skin flushing, heat spreading through me and reminding me this man is all male.

“Mine,” he says, pounding harder, and I arch my back, completely lost in everything he makes me feel.

Then he stuffs his finger between us, pressing on my clit while he digs into my core with his cock, harder and harder, and this is when it reaches me.

With a loud cry, I come, seeing fucking stars as he continues to move inside me, not slowing down even for a second. I actually enjoy and savor the feel of him inside me without the added rush of chasing the high that drives me out of my mind.

In and out, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, and finally, he groans, tightening his hold on my hips and probably bruising them for days to come.

He finishes while above me and then sinks onto me, yet very careful of his weight while I hug him closer, rubbing his sweat-coated back up and down, needing to feel this connection after the sex.

I’m completely satisfied and don’t feel like I can lift a freaking muscle even if I try, so he rolls to the side and lies on his back. I rest on his shoulder while we both pant for breath. “Why haven’t we done it sooner?” I ask.

No, truly, why?

“Because your head is full of crap.”

“Don’t pay attention to it anymore.”

His laughter echoes around the walls, and it hits me that it’s the first time it’s this genuine or carefree. “Noted.” A beat then. “You won’t freak out in the morning?”

“No. If I do, you’re allowed to kiss me stupid.”

He drags me closer and gives me a soft yet passionate kiss that ends too soon, but I seriously don’t have the strength left for anything else.

After several seconds, he disposes of the condom, comes back to bed, and we fall asleep in complete peace.