Page 27 of Corrupted Empire

“Your goons have just taken Clara off to another apartment,” I say. “Apparently I’m not allowed to go with her, and she’s not allowed to stay here.”

“She needs to rest,” Gabriel says.

“She can rest here.”

“We have no idea what happened to Clara while she was held captive,” Gabriel presses. “For all we know, the Cartel have turned her and ordered her to kill you in the middle of the night.”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding? You think that my own best friend would ever hurt me?”

“She’s an addict,” he replies. “She’s unpredictable. The last thing I need is an unknown variable thrown into the mix while I’m struggling to keep the war off your doorstep.”

“I can’t believe you!” I hope he is looking through the cameras, so he can see how furious I am right now. “Your enemy kidnapped Clara and held her prisoner for days on end just to get a rise out of you. Now you’re separating her from the one person in this whole building who actually gives a shit about her. Why don’t you throw in a little waterboarding while you’re at it?”

“Alexis…”

“Don’t.” I grit my teeth, nostrils flaring. “Please just let her stay with Harry and me. It will mean a lot to our son to have another familiar face around.” I swipe my tongue over my lip. “He misses you, you know.”

Gabriel goes quiet, though I can hear the rattle of his breath against the receiver. I have hit a nerve. Good.

“Fine,” he says finally. “She can stay with you.”

“Thank you.”

The line clicks, and just like that, the conversation is over. I don’t know when or if I’ll get to speak to Gabriel again, but at least I’ve learned one thing from the conversation. He doesn’t hate me. If he truly hated me, he wouldn’t have given in. He wouldn’t have talked to me in the first place.

I hand the phone back to Angelo, feeling a little lighter than I did before. Gabriel doesn’t hate me. And if Gabriel doesn’t hate me, we might actually be able to mend the fissure keeping us apart.

* * *

I would like to think that it is the excitement of the day preventing me from falling asleep. Clara’s back, and sleeping soundly in the next room over. The doctor says she’s malnourished and dehydrated but otherwise in okay health. A few days of rest and recovery, and she should be good as new. Between getting her back, the call with Gabriel, and reuniting Harry and Clara, today has been a whirlwind.

But that’s not why I am lying awake, staring up at the dark ceiling.

Gabriel’s voice keeps playing in my mind. I hadn’t heard it for so long, I think I forgot what it sounded like, how when he speaks, each word feels like a gentle caress over my skin. Gabriel’s voice came back into my life for a moment, and now it is gone again, and I feel a hollow loneliness instead.

I think of all the things he has said to me in that voice. The sweet things. The angry things. And best of all, the filthy things. Gabriel is always in control, and sex is no different. He gives commands, then rewards you for following them. Or punishes you for not following them.

Sometimes that’s even better.

I feel a pang of heat deep in my belly, and my fingers glide over the front of my panties, idly stroking my folds through the cotton.

I build the scenario in my head. There is no camera in my bedroom, but for the sake of my fantasy, I pretend there is and that I’m putting on a show. I picture Gabriel sitting in his office, bent over his computer screen as he watches my fingers dip below the fabric of my underwear, gliding over my wet slit.

Of course, he wouldn’t be able to resist touching himself too once he saw my arched back, lips parted, hand strumming at my clit. I like to think he would have to come over right away. That he couldn’t stand the sight of me pleasuring myself without his permission. He would break through the door just as I was about to crest that most glorious wave and deny me the satisfaction. I let myself drift into the fantasy.

I writhe in the sheets, my face flushed with heat. I am so close. So. Close.

The door slams inward, and before I know what is happening, a shape covers me in the dark, ripping my hands away from my body and pressing them up and over my head.

The figure is shadowed in darkness, but I smell sandalwood and male musk. Gabriel.

He leans over, his body pressing me hard into the mattress. His lips caress the shell of my ear as he hisses, “Did you think I was just going to let you get away with it?”

“With what?” I buck up against him and find him hard at the apex of my legs.

“Teasing me.” He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and nibbles it. “Tempting me. Making me want you when I know that I can’t have you.”

“Can’t you?”

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