ELARA.

The door opened without a knock. One of his men stepped in, eyes carefully blank, voice low.

“Boss. There’s a situation downstairs. Needs you.”

The hand under my dress didn’t move. Thick fingers stayed pressed against the soaked lace of my underwear, holding me open and exposed like the interruption meant nothing. My face burned. I tried to close my thighs. He squeezed once in warning and I froze.

He looked at the man over my shoulder.

“Handle it. I’m busy.”

“It’s about the girl from last week. The one who didn’t show.”

Something in the air changed. The fingers between my legs stilled. Slowly, he pulled his hand...