Chapter 15
Lila stares into the tall, spotless mirror of Max’s half bathroom, deliberately taking her time.
She studies her reflection with pursed lips.
Even the flattering, warm lighting can’t fully disguise the faint shadows under her eyes, reminding her of college all-nighters spent finishing major projects.
Her face looks gaunter, her cheeks a little sunken.
Her eyes, once bright and full of hope, now seem dead and tired.
Makeup does little to help these days, mostly because she’s stopped bothering.
The toll of her chaotic lifestyle and poor eating habits is etched into the weary lines across her face.
What a mess. Only four months in, and she’s already dug herself into deep, deep trouble, having managed to ruin her chance at a fresh start.
She frees her hair from its updo, raking her fingers through thick locks and massaging her aching scalp. All she wants is to climb into bed. Her bed.
Slowly, she treads back to the living room, sinking into the plush sofa and waiting for him. She tries her best to get comfortable despite the sinking feeling that she’s entered a lion’s den. Again. Of her own volition.
Like an idiot, she muses.
The memory of the past weekend floods back as her fingers graze the soft fabric of the seat. His kisses, his touches—they warm her face against her will. She blames Max for all her recent troubles and confusing feelings.
Never one to confront people directly, she had never intended her revenge on Tony to spiral into real danger.
At first, the plan had been simple: send an anonymous tip to the club owner about Tony’s shady “$Free.99” top-shelf giveaways to his friends, hoping he’d finally get fired.
But she hit a wall when she realized she had no reliable way to reach the owner.
That setback only fueled her desire for payback.
She reassured herself everything would be fine as long as she planned each step with precision, relying on quiet, careful moves no one could trace back to her.
It’s just a damn car. A car he worshipped so much that she almost feels like she did him a favor. And Tony, in her mind, still deserves far worse.
Which is why it feels unbelievably unfair that a psychopath is now extorting her, dangling proof of her small act of justice over her head.
Any shred of guilt she might have felt evaporated tonight, when Tony appeared with extra side work the second she reached for the time clock.
“Because you piss me off with your questions, Shrimpy,” he snapped when she asked why.
“Lila?”
Max’s deep, rich voice snaps her out of her thoughts. She looks up to see him standing there, relaxed in a gray T-shirt, black sweatpants, and matching house slippers. One brow is raised as he studies her.
Slowly, she opens her fists, realizing they’ve been clenched tight in her lap the entire time.
“You zoned out for a second there,” he says, offering her a glass of water.
“Well, I’m tired. It’s almost three, and I’m nowhere near home after a very long shift,” she replies, accepting the glass. She peers into it, sees nothing amiss, and takes a small sip.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I wanted to talk to you,” he says gently, sitting beside her. His proximity stirs those dormant butterflies in her stomach again.
“So, talk,” she says, placing the glass on the coffee table, pointedly beside the coaster he’d set out for her. She folds her arms and stares him down, silently daring him to move it.
“I want to date you,” he says, dark gaze steady and unwavering, as he calmly shifts the glass onto the coaster.
“You want to fuck with me,” she retorts, fighting to stay composed. “Look, I’m sorry if I did something to make you have it out for me, but I don’t want to do this anymore. This cat-and-mouse game is exhausting.”
Apologizing to him turns her stomach, but she wants him off her back. He’s the one who should be groveling for forgiveness—not her—and she knows nothing he says or does will ever make her forgive him.
“Are you truly sorry?” he asks, catching her off guard.
“What?”
“Are you truly sorry, Lila?” he repeats, voice low and ominous, each word a cruel whisper that sends chills down her spine. Her heart pounds in her chest. She feels like she’s walked straight into a trap.
Her shoulders hunch as she begins to twiddle her fingers. “Um, yes?” she says softly, unsure. After all, she can’t recall doing anything that would ever warrant what he did to her.
“Sorry about what?” he presses, unyielding, raising an eyebrow.
“Um, I don’t know.” She nervously chews her lower lip, hating how small and vulnerable she feels.
“How can you be truly sorry if you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for?” he asks coldly, his tone dripping with mockery, making her want to shrink back even further. “I don’t like it when people say sorry just to say sorry.”
“Then tell me what I did wrong,” she offers hesitantly.
“You did nothing wrong.”
She furrows her brows in confusion. “Then why are you messing with me?”
“I’ve made it clear. I’m interested in you,” he says.
“You’re harassing me because you’re interested in me?
” she bursts out, incredulous, her voice rising with fury.
“You can’t come up with a better excuse?
Why don’t you go after an actual willing participant?
Or hire a damn escort like a normal person?
Isn’t that what rich men do when they want casual fun? ”
“I don’t want an escort. I am interested in you. It doesn’t have to be casual. We can come up with an arrangement that benefits us both, one that fits our schedules since I’m a very busy person.”
She scoffs. “I don’t think you’re that busy, seeing as you have time to go around stalking me,” she snaps.
“I do whatever it takes to get what I want,” he says, his tone steady.
“Right. People like you do whatever they want and don’t care about the damage they leave behind.”
“That’s true,” he replies darkly, taking her face in his hand. She freezes under his touch. “But there’s no one else like me.”
Leaning in so close that his breath tickles her skin, he whispers into her ear, “And honestly, fucking you feels so amazing. I want to see you naked in my bed again—this time, fully awake, screaming my name while I make you come on my dick.”
He releases her jaw, tracing his fingers down her neck.
His words carry a sinister edge, sharply contrasting with the intimacy of his light touch.
“I want to close my hand around your lovely neck as I fuck your brains out… But it doesn’t have to be just sex, and it doesn’t have to hurt.
We can both just enjoy each other’s company. ”
Despite the insanity of his words after everything he’s done to her, she feels the familiar throbbing between her legs as they sink in.
It’s as if her body has a mind of its own, betraying her rational thoughts and responding to him with an unsettling mix of confusion and attraction.
She’s appalled at herself for feeling turned on by him.
“I can’t,” she says, pulling away, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t think I’m able to separate my feelings from sex.”
He doesn’t relent. “I’ll make it worth your while. I know you hate your job, Lila. You can quit. Let me take care of you,” he counters, a glint of determination in his eyes.
“That’s easier said than done.”
He leans closer. “It’ll be extremely easy. I’ll pay you $100,000 to be exclusively mine for a month.” His offer is tempting. That amount could cover her rent for two years. Still, she can’t shake the unease that comes with the proposition.
“A whole month?” she murmurs, nausea rising.
“It can end sooner, but only if I decide so. Even then, you’ll still get the full amount. I am a generous man, Lila. I’ll take care of all expenses. When the month ends, if we both want to continue, we will.”
Then he adds, almost too casually, “I will also make sure the video of you ‘enhancing’ your boss’s car never appears anywhere. That is a good deal, isn’t it, Lila? All you need to do is be mine.”
“Yes,” she admits, her voice hollow as conflicting emotions churn inside her.
Perhaps if it weren’t Max, so unpredictable and wicked, saying yes to $100,000 wouldn’t be so difficult.
After all, they’ve already done the dirty deed multiple times, and, as much as she hates to admit it, sex with him had felt incredible.
What would it be but more of the same, and only for a month?
On top of that, she’ll be getting paid for it…
But with him, it’s like the literal Devil tempting her with an irresistible offer for her soul, while the logical voice inside screams at her to run.
“It’s late, Lila. You should stay the night. My driver can take you home in the morning. We can have breakfast together and discuss this more. Just you and me.”
The idea of spending the night with him is surprisingly enticing.
Familiar images flash through her mind: his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her body, the devastating way he tore through her with each roll of his hips.
Despite her wariness, memories of their past weekend together have haunted her mind all week.
He has shown he can be gentle when he wants to—his lips against hers, his touch on her most sensitive spots.
He has stirred something inside her that now craves him. The realization repulses and frightens her.
“I need time to think. I’ll consider it better at home,” she hastily declines. “Please?”
A dangerous glint, fueled by amusement, lurks behind his eyes as he takes in her words. She knows it pleases him to hear her ask for permission so sweetly. The thought sickens her, but she musters all her strength to keep her expression neutral, unwilling to let him see the turmoil churning inside.
While Tony’s gaze fills her with quiet rage, Max’s dark eyes ignite a different kind of discomfort that makes her want to squirm beneath his intense stare.
“All right. I’ll have Sergei drive you home now,” he says, and she almost allows herself to feel relieved.
“Thanks.”
“And Lila?” he continues, gently tilting her chin up so she has to meet his eyes. “Make sure not to wear your earbuds when you’re out walking at night. You can’t say yes to me if you don’t make it home safely.”
She swallows nervously, unsure how he knows that. “They’re never actually on…”
“Oh. Good. Still, I’d rather you don’t. It might attract trouble. I can get you a ride anytime you want. All you need to do is ask.
“Anyway, I’m really excited about this,” he says eagerly, tone light, face suddenly beaming with enthusiasm as if what he just told her is perfectly normal. “I’ll have Sergei pick you up at six tomorrow for dinner. You can tell me your answer then.”
“I have to work,” she croaks, a deeper sense of dread washing over her. The upcoming evening feels too close for her to make a rational decision.
“Call in sick,” he proposes casually, rising from the sofa and extending his hand to help her stand. “There’s a nasty cold going around.”
Tentatively, she places her small hand in his, feeling the hardened patches on his palm as his hand gently envelops hers. Once on her feet, she instinctively wraps her arms around herself, as if shielding against his intense gaze.
“Kiss me,” he says.
Her heart thumps hard against her ribcage as she looks up at him. It sounds more like a demand than a request. Then, almost as an afterthought, he tacks on, “Please.”
Against her better judgment, she complies, hesitating only a split second before bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks, feeling the prickly stubble along his jaw under her fingertips.
Drawing his face close, she stands on tiptoe and gives him a quick peck on the lips, feeling his brief intake of breath in response to her tender touch.
Despite his hard demeanor, his lips meet hers with surprising softness, igniting an electrifying current that courses through her veins.
Wanting to escape the flood of desire the brief kiss stirs, she makes a swift attempt to pull away, but he wraps an arm around her waist like a vise, pulling her back and ensnaring her in a crushing embrace.
With a firm hand, he tilts her chin up, deepening their kiss with an urgency that takes her breath away.
Overwhelming waves of sensation crash over her, engulfing her in a sea of pleasure as she surrenders to his touch.
She parts her lips for his dominating tongue, allowing it inside.
She feels weakened, heated, and seconds from melting into a puddle in his strong arms. The open-mouthed kiss sparks a fire deep within her, causing her lower abdomen to pulse and ache with yearning.
More.
Just for tonight, she wants a little more from this awful man.
She teeters between fear of what she might do if she lets this continue and the desperate desire to pause time so the kiss can last a little longer.
Just a bit more.
“You’ve been such a good girl tonight,” he murmurs against her lips before pulling away, much to her disappointment.
“Don’t worry, Lila. I understand you more than you know.”
He presses a deep, deliberate kiss to her forehead and says firmly, “I’ll take care of everything.”