He didn’t ask this time.

Two nights after the library, Maddox found me in the hallway outside my room. He didn’t speak. He simply took my wrist and led me down the long corridor to the master suite—the one he was supposed to share with my mother.

The door shut behind us with a quiet, final click.

His bedroom was dim, lit only by the city lights spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The bed was massive, dark sheets already turned down. He turned to face me, eyes black with intent.

“Clothes off.”

I should have argued. Instead I pulled the sleep shirt over my head and let it fall. My...