{BEWARE; MATURED CONTENT, R-18}
Avery stood frozen in the hallway, the man's words still echoing in her ears. The mention of her parents. The jagged clue dropped into her lap like a curse. Her breath came fast, uneven. Every cell in her body screamed one thing:
Find the truth. Hunt the killer.
But the truth was bigger than her. Darker. Sharper. And she couldn't face it alone.
Dante.
She spun and ran through the mansion's corridors, bare feet silent on cold marble. Her pulse roared louder with every step until she found herself outside his door.
It was ajar—barely. A single inch of shadowed promise.
She stepped inside.
The room smelled of storm and cedar. Dark, sprawling, masculine. And there he was. Dante Harlan. Back turned, shirt undone, standing at the window like he'd expected her.
"I know it's dangerous," Avery said, breathless. "But I don't care. If chasing the truth means burning everything, then so be it. Just… protect me."
He didn't turn. Just said, coolly, "Protect you?"
His voice slid down her spine like silk and steel.
"I don't protect things I can't control."
He finally faced her. Shadows played across his face. Calm. Dangerous. Impossible.
"You want my protection," he said, walking toward her slowly, "then show me what your fear costs. What your loyalty is worth."
She swallowed. "What do you mean?"
He stopped inches from her.
"Seduce me."
Avery's heart slammed in her chest.
"You said—"
"I said this is your first trial. This is the line between power and weakness, Avery." His voice dropped lower. "Make me want you. Or walk out that door and fight your demons alone."
The air between them thickened like storm clouds ready to crack.
"I… I've never—"
He tilted her chin up with two fingers, gaze boring into hers. "I know."
Heat bloomed under her skin, equal parts humiliation and thrill. He could see right through her—what she was, what she wasn't. She was exposed. But not dismissed.
"You walk into my room, into my world, and ask for protection," he murmured. "But power isn't given. It's taken. Earned. Or stolen."
His fingers brushed down her arm, slow and deliberate. "Seduction isn't about sex, Avery. It's about control. Show me yours."
Her mouth parted slightly, but words failed her. She didn't know how to do this. But she stepped forward anyway, hands shaking as she reached up and placed them on his chest. His skin was warm under her fingers, heart steady as a war drum.
She leaned up slowly and kissed him—soft, hesitant.
He didn't move. Not at first.
Then—
His hand gripped the back of her neck. The kiss turned. Possession. Hunger. Fire. She gasped into his mouth as his other hand slid down her waist, pulling her tight against him.
"You're trembling," he murmured against her lips.
"I'm trying."
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. "Trying isn't enough."
His mouth traced down her jaw, then to her throat, where he kissed the place her pulse thundered. "But you taste like a girl who wants to learn."
She let out a shaky breath. "Then teach me."
Dante smirked against her skin.
His hands moved to her waist, gliding under her shirt with unbearable slowness. She gasped softly as the cool air hit her skin. He peeled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Her arms instinctively wrapped around herself.
"Don't hide," he said sharply. "Not from me."
He unclasped her bra with one flick. She hesitated, cheeks burning.
"I've never—"
"I know," he said again, voice lower, rougher. "That's why I won't break you. Unless you ask me to."
He dipped his head, lips brushing the top of her breast. Then his mouth closed around it, warm and wet. She gasped—her first real sound—clutching his shoulders.
When his tongue flicked, her knees buckled slightly.
She felt it all.
Every motion. Every breath. Every wordless promise in the way he devoured her like sin was holy.
Then his hand slipped down, slow and knowing. She froze when he slid it between her thighs.
"It's just a touch," he said darkly. "Unless you want it to be more."
She couldn't speak—only nod.
And when his finger slid inside her, her cry cracked the air. Her body arched instinctively as pain laced with heat.
Dante didn't stop. But he was slow. Patient. Watching her like a man reading scripture. His lips brushed her neck, her collarbone, her jaw.
He whispered against her skin, "Feel that? That's power, Avery. Your body learning mine. Mine mastering yours."
Her moans were quiet, sharp, scattered.
Then he picked up the rhythm—slow, then faster, then slow again. She bit her lip, covering her mouth with her hand, but a whimper still escaped.
"Say my name," he breathed into her ear.
She hesitated.
"Say it."
"D-Dante…"
He rewarded her with a deeper push, her body jolting in response.
"You're learning," he growled. "And failing."
She clung to him, her body trembling as heat flooded every nerve.
Then, without warning, he stopped.
Avery gasped, disoriented.
"Why… did you—"
Dante stepped back, chest rising and falling, lips parted but controlled.
"Because this wasn't about pleasure," he said. "It was about power. And you gave it away too easily."
Her heart stung. Shame rushed in like a tide.
He grabbed a blanket and tossed it over her shoulders. "Get in the bed."
Still stunned, she obeyed. Her thoughts spun wildly, but her body was warm and heavy with something unfinished.
Dante sat on the edge of the bed, watching her settle in like she was the question and the answer to something he couldn't name.
"You failed the test," he said quietly.
She turned toward him, searching his face.
"Because I wanted you?"
"No." He leaned down, eyes dark and sharp. "Because you didn't make me want more. You surrendered without knowing the cost. Why, Avery?"
Her voice cracked. "Because… because I don't know how else to survive this."
His expression shifted. Just for a moment. A flicker of something—regret, maybe.
"You'll learn," he said. "But not tonight."
He stood and walked toward the door, but paused just before leaving.
"And Avery?"
She looked up.
"I didn't finish because I don't take what isn't offered with certainty."
Then he disappeared into the hallway, and she was left alone in his bed—heart racing, body aching, soul burning with new fire.
****
The night pressed cold against her skin, but it was Dante's smirk she felt burning behind closed eyes.
"You failed," he whispered — a challenge and a promise tangled in that single word.
His touch lingered on her skin, a dangerous invitation she wasn't sure she could—or wanted to—resist.
Her heart pounded, caught between fear and a hunger she hadn't known lived inside her.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
And so would she.