Page 41 of Forbidden Deception

“You don’t need to run around to get all that for me, Danyi.”

She shoots me a glare, then goes back to eating her soup.

“I know I don’t have to. You are sick, and I want to help, so deal with it.” She juts her chin out, and I shake my head at her.

“We should watch a Disney movie today. It’s the perfect weather for it.”

I glance over my shoulder at the window. Outside, the clouds are dark and ominous. It is indeed the perfect weather for a Disney film.

“I get to pick.” I raise my hand.

“No. It was my idea, so I get to choose.”

“But I’m the one who’s sick.” I narrow my eyes.

“I got you all this food. Enjoy it and let me pick the film, please?” She bats her lashes at me, and even pouts.

“Nope. I get to pick.” I poke my tongue out at her.

15

Fuck my life.

This city is full of thunder, rain, and cold winds.

Why does it suddenly feel hot and sweltering, like I’m standing under a blazing sun?

The woman I visited yesterday is the fucking reason.

For the first time, instead of wanting to toy and destroy someone, I want to toy with them in a different way entirely.

Someone with long brown hair, big tits, and a beautiful grin.

I am over a decade older than her, and yet here I am, under a cold shower in my home, my head hanging, my eyes squeezed shut, and my hands on the tile wall in front of me. Trying to get rid of the image of Venezia in those clothes is a mission impossible.

She won’t be able to take me. She comes up to my shoulder.

But fuck if I didn’t suddenly imagine her writhing under me while my cock splits her apart, her cries reaching up to the heavens while I fuck her into oblivion.

I’m going down the wrong path.

16

“Did you not bring your assistant with you?”

I rub my temples while Mikko smirks across from me. This isn’t a dinner topic. Surely, he doesn’t think I would actually bring my assistant to a family dinner. A woman who makes me go crazy.

“Assistant?” Liya frowns from next to him, taking a bite of the steak Dad prepared.

“Yeah, Venezia. I told him to bring her because I thought she would be great for Eiran, but he showed up alone. Just because you want to die alone doesn’t mean everyone else does too,” Mikko continues, plating food for his six-year-old daughter, Jasmine.

“Papa, I want juice.” She points at the jug next to me.

Mikko grabs it, pours it into a cup, and gives it to her.

She grins at him over the rim of the glass.

“I have to see the woman. It’s not often you boys talk about someone for Eiran,” Dad cuts in, raising a curious brow.

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