Page 118 of The Owner's Temptation

She wobbles. I steady her, ripping the grinder from my leg and dropping it to my seat.

"Jacket." The order snaps from my mouth before I even register saying it.

One of my guards peels off his coat without hesitation—a heavy black tactical jacket with SECURITY printed across the back in bold white block letters. I take it and wrap it around her shoulders.

It drowns her.

Swallows her whole.

And it smells likehim.

That part makes my jaw clench.

But I don’t have time to fix it. I don’t have time to fix anything.

“Get her out of here,” I say, voice flat and deadly.

“Wait—” she starts, turning to me, eyes wide.

I don’t wait.

“Take her home. My home. Don’t let her leave.”

Her lips part in protest. She steps forward.

But I’m already turning my back.

Already gone.

The moment the order is given, she’s lifted—hauled effortlessly over one of the guard’s shoulders like a defiant, furious little siren. Her legs kick, her fists beat against his back, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even slow.

And I don’t look back.

I disappear into the shadows of the Devil’s Playground.

Because whatever this is—this breach, this threat, this flicker of chaos at the edges of my empire?—

It needs to be handled.

And she has no idea what she’s just started.

But she will.

Soon.

Very, very soon.

The moment the elevator doors shut behind me, I tear off the Devil’s mask.

My skin still hums with the feel of her. The slick heat of her soaked panties pressed against my thigh. Her scent clings to me—sweet, sinful, maddening. I’m still throbbing, my jaw clenched tight as the adrenaline simmers beneath the surface.

One of my floor managers is already waiting, arm extended with a clean black button-down and a quiet, watchful expression. He doesn’t meet my eye. Smart.

Because I’m in no fucking mood.

I snatch the shirt from him in silence, handing over the mask without a word.

The shift from predator to polished is a familiar one.

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