Sofia had brought it over yesterday. She brought baking over weekly. Her and Cristian had coffee together. His bond with them was strong. Even after he’d taken their son’s hand.
It was a strange family.
But the woman could bake.
Sugar and chocolate weren’t usually weaknesses for me. Food in general wasn’t something I obsessed over like many women did. Only because I had many, many other things wrong with me. I couldn’t fit an eating disorder in too. I ate because it kept me alive. I ate at nice restaurants because that was the best place to entertain clients if I needed to. Or because Pete was obsessed with being seen at the new ‘it’ restaurant. None of that excited me.
Mainly because life didn’t excite me.
Not until just over a month ago.
But now Cristian cooked for me.
Every night.
With his hands.
And I’d never tasted anything like it. Like I was finally fucking living.
Hence me picking up the knife for my second slice of chocolate cake.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and I froze, clutching the knife. My heart thundered in my chest.
Was I really standing in this kitchen, yet again holding a knife when whoever lurked in the shadows most likely had a gun? Cristian was going to kill me for leaving the weapon he gave me in the nightstand upstairs. If whoever this was didn’t kill me first.
I turned as the shadow moved closer and footfalls echoed on the marble floor, his face coming into view. Familiar. One of nightmares. Most people’s, at least.
I didn’t let go of the knife as Felix advanced on me.
“What are you doing down here in the middle of the night?” I whispered, my body prickling with unease.
The moonlight streaming through the windows was the only thing chasing out the shadows.
But he brought the shadows with him.
I tightened my grip on the knife as he walked toward me. All of my instincts told me this man was dangerous. That he could kill me in a moment and not feel an ounce of remorse. But I had other instincts too, baser ones. Ones that were excited by this man.
The kitchen island was behind me, and I pressed myself into the marble, as if I could melt into it.
“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” he countered, his voice wrapping around me like a fur coat.
“I’m eating cake.” His eyes were zeroed in on me as he approached, passing through the pockets of light. I was wearing a silk nightgown, short, revealing. Only lace triangles covered my breasts, my nipples clearly visible through the fabric. I didn’t bother to try to cover myself up.
He didn’t stop as he came a distance most people would consider impolite. Then again, I never considered Felix to be polite. But I’d never expected him to press his body against mine and fasten his hand over my wrist—the one holding the knife—in the middle of the night either.
I suspected that there was something in there, in that cavernous, dark, vile place inside of him. Something that he harbored for me. Want, yes, sure. But I suspected he hated me too. Because he wanted me. From what I could glean about this man, he’d survived by being a soulless monster. Wanting something, someone, that revealed a shred of humanity. Exposing a shred was dangerous in this world.
And I liked that. Craved him. In a different way than I craved Cristian. I wanted Cristian with my heart and soul. I ached for the monster in him.
But the greedy, ugly part of me wanted to know what a different kind of monster felt like. If I could tame another one. An arguably more dangerous one.
Felix fascinated me. Because when I was sure that he was devoid of emotion, he showed me other things. Like when he spoke about his loyalty to Cristian. When his hands lingered on me during training.
Like right fucking now.
His body was hard against mine, lean ridges of muscle. Though I was wearing nothing but a silk slip, flames crept over my skin. My breathing was rapid and shallow, and my heart thundered in my chest.
There was a chance he was going to feed into the craving I had for him. There was also a chance that he could take the knife from me and brutally murder me.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, my voice raw.
His grip on my wrist got tighter, more painful. I tasted blood as I bit my lip to stop from crying out. Even though I knew I needed some kind of a weapon, my grip loosened on the knife, and Felix smoothly handled it, moving it to my neck.
I held my breath but didn’t fight. Didn’t do anything. My pussy pulsed as the cold steel hit my skin.
“I’m here to look after you.” His breath was warm on my face.