"Nobody is allowed between these pretty little thighs but me....and if anyone tries...𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦."
~
They call him The King-a ghost who rules the world's most powerful mafia from the shadows. No face. No mercy. No mistakes.
And beside...
SO THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER IS JUST SMUT. SKIPPABLE IF SMUT ISN'T YOUR THING BUT I WOULD READ THE FIRST PART SINCE THAT IS IMPORTANT TO THE PLOT (IT'S NOT SMUT). THANKS POOKIES.
-"Show me your thorns and I will show you hands ready to bleed."-
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Kaia entered without a sound.
The keypad accepted her code on the first try. No errors. No alerts. No red flags.
Something was off.
The door clicked shut behind her, sealing the world out, just as it always did. Her heels tapped softly across the polished concrete as she stepped into the main hallway and flicked on the lights.
A low hum overhead. Cold white glow.
She set her bag down.
No visible signs of disturbance. No broken locks. No tripped sensors. No missing items. The security system hadn't so much as blinked.
But the air was... different.
Off rhythm.
Like someone had exhaled where they shouldn't have.
She stilled, eyes narrowing as her hand slid down to her thigh holster, fingers curling around the grip of her weapon—smooth, familiar, comforting. Her eyes scanned the space.
The vase on her desk—untouched. The hidden drawer beneath the coffee table—closed. The files stacked in her corner—exactly where she left them.
But she could feel it.
Someone had been here.
Recently.
She moved deeper into the room. No sound but the soft press of her boots against the floor and the low breath of ventilation through the walls. She reached the bathroom door.
Stopped.
It was slightly ajar. Not enough to be careless—just enough to suggest someone had looked inside. That someone wanted her to know they'd been here.
Her jaw flexed.
She pushed the door open.
Light, clean, untouched. Mirror gleaming. The faint scent of the lotion she used—too faint. Diluted.
Someone had opened it.
The adrenaline didn't show on her face. But it was there, singing under her skin like a low, familiar current. This home wasn't compromised.
