Chapter 34
ATHENA
The music thundered from the ballroom below, but it was nothing compared to the chaos in my head. Seeing Dominic Stone was like being struck by lightning and something far worse, all flooding my veins at once. I fled to the VIP bathroom, my guards trailing behind.
Inside the VIP suite, I locked the first door behind me. My guards nodded.
“You feeling unwell, miss?”
“Just need space,” I said, voice steady.
They nodded, leaving and locking the corridor behind them—oblivious to the real threat hiding within.
I closed the next door, and the music dropped to a muffled hum.
I paused, pressed my hand to the cool door, trying to steady my racing heart.
Then I stepped into the main bathroom. The smell of stale polish and expensive lotions hit me first. Instantly, I felt him lingering in the corner, a dark stain against the sleek marble.
I switched on the lights and our eyes locked, as though we’d been circling each other forever. He leaned against the sink, broad shoulders against the mirrored wall behind him. I didn’t dare move. My fingers twitched toward the knife strapped to my thigh, a gift from my father.
“Afraid to come closer, Athena?” His smirk was slow, poisonous. “I don’t bite, well, unless I feel like it.”
My jaw tightened. You don’t own me.
“You have five minutes. Say what you came to say before I call the guards.”
He stepped off the sink, laughter rumbling low in his chest.
“What do you think they can do? Stop me? Kill me? You think I care?”
His laugh—a slow, dangerous rumble—scratched across my skin like sandpaper.
“Come on, dollface,” he said, voice softer now, almost intimate. “You and I, we know how this ends, yes?”
He took a step, and I didn’t tell him to stop. My fingers curled tighter around the hilt of the blade beneath my dress, heart pounding like a war drum against my ribs.
“What games are you playing, Dominic?” My voice cracked. “Why don’t you just finish what you started?”
He tilted his head, watching me like a cat might a trembling bird.
Where’s the fun in that?” He moved closer, scent curling around me like smoke.
“I forgot that you only find pleasure in watching people suffer. Just like you did to my uncle.”
“If I wanted him dead, Athena, he’d be six feet under.” His tone was maddeningly calm. “The bullets missed vital organs, that was intentional. What happens next is up to him.”
“You want me to thank you?” I spat. “He’s in a coma.”
“But he’s alive, isn’t he?”
“You’re sick.”
He waved me off like I was wasting his time.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, yeah? I’m here for a reason.” Another step. Nowhere to go, not that I was running. “I’m here to give you a choice.”
“How generous of you. Sorry, not interested.” I barked a laugh.
His eyes lit up with something dark, sharp—lethal.
“Oh, I think you will be.” His voice dropped an octave, and the air in the room turned colder. “You remember Linda? Your sweet little savior?”
My blood froze.
“Sweet of her to try saving you,” he said, cruel smirk twisting. “But nothing slips past me. Come with me, and she lives. Walk out, and she dies. And unlike your uncle, she won’t get mercy.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I finally choked. “Go to hell.”
For a second—just a second—his eyes flashed. Like I’d cut him. But then… ice again.
“Is that your final say?”
He stepped closer. Close enough to touch me or kill me.
My hand moved before I could think. The knife pressed against his chest, blade biting through his shirt, digging into skin.
My hand trembled and I could feel the pulse beneath the steel, but he didn’t flinch or blink.
He looked down at the blade like it was a curious inconvenience, then back up at me.
“Didn’t Daddy warn you not to play with knives? You might hurt yourself.”
“Take one more step and I’ll hurt you.”
He did. The blade cut into him, staining his shirt crimson. He didn’t flinch, just smiled.
“Come on, dollface. I dare you.”
His voice was low and lethal, a blade all its own. A drop of blood slid down his shirt—stark red against expensive white.
“Push it deeper. Show me you’ve got the guts.” He leaned forward, deliberately forcing the knife further into his chest, blood seeping warm against my hand. “You’re your father’s daughter. Make him proud.”
His breath brushed my cheek. My brain screamed to move, to finish it, to free myself and my family from him once and for all, but my body wouldn’t obey.
It was frozen, but not from fear; it was something darker.
He wrapped his hand around the blade and ripped it free like it was nothing, then pressed it to his own throat, just below his jaw.
“If you want me dead, cut here.” His voice was steady, almost gentle. “One slice, and you’ll never see me again.”
“You’d know where to cut,” I whispered. “You’ve done it before.”
‘‘And I’ll do it to Linda if you don’t come with me.”
He leaned closer, pressing into the blade, a fresh cut blooming across his throat. His lips were inches from mine.
“Either run the blade or agree to my terms,” he whispered. “Tick-tock, Athena. My patience is wearing thin.”
“If I come with you will that change anything? Will you leave my family alone?”
He scoffed. As if I’d just told a joke.
“We can negotiate,” I offered quickly. “I’ll give you something in return for their safety.”
“What could you possibly offer me, Athena?”
“I’ll do anything,” I said, each word costing me breath. “Whatever it takes to keep them safe. Just name it.”
That got his attention. His hand rose, brushing my chin. Electricity crackled through me.
“And what if I ask for more than you’re willing to give?” His voice dropped lower, his fingers now stroking the side of my face with maddening patience. The knife was still between us, but I couldn’t feel it anymore.
“I could cut your throat right now,” I whispered, though it sounded more like a plea.
“Want to test that theory, dollface?” he whispered. “We could play a little game, yeah?”
I said nothing, and he took my silence as permission.
With one step, he pinned me against the door.
My hand shook as I pressed the blade to his throat, the steel cutting a slow, jagged line, blood welled and dripped, staining his shirt.
His fingers curled around my neck like a cruel necklace, forcing my head back.
I was sure he could feel the wild pounding of my pulse beneath his touch.
His other hand traced a slow, deliberate path down my body, leaving fire in its wake.
He leaned in, lips a breath away from mine.
I pressed the blade harder against his skin, drawing a sharper, angrier cut.
A drop of blood slid down, mingling with the stain on his shirt.
It didn’t stop him. A cruel smile curled his lips as his hand slipped beneath the slit of my dress. His palm pressed hard against me. I bit my lip, fighting the moan that escaped.
“Don’t—” My voice broke.
“You can always stop me, Athena,” he whispered. “Slide that blade and end this. Just like you said.” His fingers slid my panties aside. “But judging by how wet you are, I don’t think you want me to stop. You want more.”
“You are crazy,” I moaned. He leaned forward, lips brushing mine.
“Maybe I’m crazy, but you’re wet for me.
What does that make you, dollface? Just as crazy as me?
” His fingers spread me open, every touch igniting a fire I was desperate to hide.
I bit my lip harder, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Will you let me finger you, Athena? Right here, in your daddy’s mansion, while hundreds wait for their princess to return to the party?
Bet your little boyfriend’s waiting too. ”
His middle finger pushed inside me, slow and painful, stretching, filling me. I moaned softly, my thigh parting on its own. His hand flexed, moving in slow, deliberate strokes, controlling me with every thrust.
“What would he say if he saw you now? Trapped against the wall with my hand between your thighs?” He added another finger, hitting deep. “Would he kill me for this? Or is he too scared to try?”
“Shut up.” I pressed the blade deeper, cutting a harsher line across his throat. Blood dripped, mingling with my own desire, but he didn’t stop. His lips found mine, tongue dragging over my bottom lip.
“If you were mine, and another man touched you, he’d end up six feet under with severed hand and bullet through the skull.”
A third finger plunged in, filling me beyond all limits. Rough and merciless. He fucked me with his fingers like he carried himself—dangerous, commanding, impossible to resist.
I was shaking, gasping for air, my head hitting the door with every brutal thrust of his fingers. His hand wrapped around my throat was the only thing keeping me upright.
“Listen,” he whispered darkly. The slick sound of my arousal filled the room. “That’s your cunt begging for me.”
Euphoria crashed over me—raw, fierce ecstasy.
So close, shame flooding me for how easily he’d broken me down.
My moans spilled out, wild and uncontrolled, calling his name, and when I was on the edge, trembling, he pulled his fingers free, dropping to his knees, sliding the slit of my dress aside.
Both hands gripped my hips, and his warm tongue traced a slow, scorching path along the slick slit of my pussy.
I dropped the knife without a thought, clutching his shoulders as my head slammed back against the door.
My moan caught in my throat as I whispered his name.
He licked me with a desperate hunger—as if he hadn’t tasted anything in days.
His tongue danced over my clit, his fingers dug into my hips, pulling me closer, demanding more.
I tried to push him away by tugging his hair—only to pull him even deeper.
I was trembling, teetering on the edge, completely consumed by him.
His eyes locked with mine—hungry, possessive.
Then he stopped. Smoothed my panties back into place, kissed me once where I ached, and rose. I shook with a mix of fury as he licked his lips, eyes glittering as he erased me from them, then waved the knife coated with his blood in front of my face.
Oh, that motherfu—
But he tucked the blade into his jacket, straightened it carefully, and stepped back, creating distance.
“I’ll consider your offer. We wouldn’t want Linda’s death to rest on your conscience, would we?”
Then he handed me a folded piece of paper.
“Go, dollface. Your bodyguards have been waiting too long, and so has your boyfriend.”
He spat the word “boyfriend” like it was poison, but the grin on his lips said otherwise. My blood boiled, face flushed with rage. I gave him the middle finger, straightened my dress, and headed for the door.
Your boyfriend’s missing out,” he called after me, voice thick with arrogance. “Your cunt is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I turned, cheeks burning, a wicked smile playing on my lips.
“How do you know he hasn’t tasted me already?”
And with that, I slammed the door in his face.
Go to hell, Dominic Stone.