Page 69 of Knights Game

Pushing off the frame I start to undress, my body lethargic and heavy. I want to shove my head between her legs. My dick already hard at seeing her in my space.

But I need to sleep.

I set the alarm on my phone for 6 p.m., giving us three hours.

I pull the covers off and climb in, the space between us too vast, but I don’t close the distance. Rome filled me in on her tears in the car, then the phone call, she knows what I’ve done. Whether she’s worked out that it was me who paid off her debt, remains to be seen. I pushed her this morning. As much as I need to be on my A-Game, so does she. That mask she has spent her life perfecting, I need her to put it on so they all believe what we have is real.

As I pull the covers over my naked body, she mumbles and her sweet coconut and vanilla scent washes over me, bringing me peace, quietening my mind as sleep pulls me under.

I wake to the sound of running water.

Layla is gone.

Reaching over to my phone, it’s 5:59. Pressing the button next to the bed the curtains automatically rise showing the last of the setting sun over the London skyline.

After checking my phone and making sure nothing has burnt down within my empire, I climb out of bed and walk to the bathroom.

My body still sluggish from the afternoon nap, making me feel groggy. She’s in the shower, her back to me as water cascades down her body. She doesn’t turn, doesn’t acknowledge me, justpretends I’m not here, even though we can both already feel the tension thickening the air between us.

I cross the steamy bathroom, the condensation building on the mirror. Opening the door, I climb in and my dick twitches. “Layla.”

Her head is bowed, her chin dropped so low that all the water runs over her head onto her face.

It’s then that I see the slight rising of her shoulders; she’s hiding her face from me because she’s crying. I reach out to touch her shoulder.

“Please don’t touch me,” she whispers, brushing me off, stepping to the side and covers her face.

“Turn around.” I demand but she stays still, I step around her, so I’m standing in front, my frame and her deflated form making her seem tiny and broken.

The stream of water is hot, the heat prickles my skin, and I notice how red she is from the onslaught of the heat. I reach behind me and turn on some cold. Then I slowly pull her hands away from her face.

“Tell me what happened.”

“No.” Her voice is a broken whisper, and it feels like a knife to my heart.

This beautiful woman who has so much more to give, this beautiful woman who I’m going to break and destroy. And for the first time, in all my shit existence, I feel something close to remorse about it.

She’s a pawn, Luca, remember that.

Is she though?

“I am a man of my word, Layla. I will protect you and those you love.”

She nods once and I wipe the tears and water from her face. Her eyes pierce mine searching for truth in them.

I may be a bastard, but I am true to my word.

“Was it you?” She says quietly her eyes beseeching. “Did you pay off my care home debt?”

“Yes.”

Her bottom lip trembles. “Why?”

“You negotiated.”

“But—”

“But nothing.” We look into each other’s eyes, and my dead heart slams against my chest, fuck me. I want her to be happy. I didn’t think she would look so devastated.

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