Chapter 10 – Kaz
I knock on Violet’s bedroom door at noon the next day, trying not to look as nervous as I feel.
When the door creaks open, she’s already up, standing in the middle of the room with a towel wrapped around her hair and suspicion in her eyes.
“I came to apologize,” I say quietly. “For last night. I shouldn’t have ended dinner the way I did.”
She crosses her arms, silent.
“I was hoping you’d come somewhere with me,” I add. “Just…for a drive. Outside the estate. Nothing more. A little sightseeing.”
That gets her attention. Her brows lift slightly. “Outside?”
I nod. “Yes.”
She hesitates only a moment, then says, “Okay.”
That one word—it does something to me. Something unreasonably warm. She could’ve said no. She’s had every reason to shut me out since the day I brought her here. But she didn’t.
“I’ll wait for you downstairs,” I say, stepping back. “Take your time.”
And then I walk away before I do something stupid like smile.
I wait in the main hall, pacing in slow strides near the front windows. I don’t want to admit how long it’s been since I looked forward to something so simple.
She’s been quiet since dinner. Distant. Like she’s been trying to rebuild her walls after letting them slip. And who could blame her? She told me something so private, and I walked away and left her hanging.
But now she’s coming with me. And fuck—I’m glad.
I think about what she said. “I’m a virgin.” That one sentence has haunted me since it left her lips. It should have been a warning, a line drawn in blood.
Stay away, Kaz.
But I don’t want to. More than ever—I want her.
Not just her body. I want the fire behind her eyes, the way her voice shakes but never breaks, the quiet resistance of someone still trying to hold on to who they are.
When she finally walks down the grand staircase, I swear the air leaves my lungs.
She’s wearing a soft lavender dress that drapes around her frame like it was stitched for her skin. Her hair is loose, still damp at the ends, and she walks slowly, like she’s not sure how to move around me.
“You’re beautiful,” I say before I can stop myself.
She freezes halfway down the stairs, then blushes. Actually blushes.
A soft pink crawls across her cheeks, and she looks away like the compliment is heavier than it should be. “Thank you.”
I walk to the front doors and open one for her. “Shall we?”
She walks past me, and for a second, the scent of her shampoo hits me, and my knees almost buckle.
We get into the back seat of the car—her on one side, me on the other. Maxim’s driving, as always. I glance at Violet as the gates slide open and we pull into the world beyond.
She presses her face lightly to the glass, eyes wide. Curious.
And just like that, I know. This day is going to ruin me.
As the car glides through the streets, I can’t take my eyes off her.
Violet hasn’t stopped looking out the window since we left.
Her fingers are pressed lightly to the glass, her eyes flicking from one passing building to the next like she’s drinking it all in.
It’s barely noon, and the city is golden—bustling, alive, stretching for miles.
It looks nothing like the cold, polished walls of my estate.
“I wanted to tell you something,” I say, voice low. “It wasn’t just about showing you the city.”
She turns slightly, one brow raised, cautious.
“I think someone’s after you.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not stupid, Kaz.”
“Listen….” I almost hold her hand. “Whatever’s going on, someone either wants to use you against me—or they think you’re a threat. And until I figure out who it is…I’m trying to keep you alive.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, but her shoulders drop slightly.
And maybe it’s just my own delusion, but I think a part of her believes me, too.
She leans her cheek against the window, a small crease between her brows like she’s trying not to show how scared she still is.
I study her quietly—how delicate her features are, how her eyes linger too long on the children crossing a busy market street, how she inhales softly at the sight of a street vendor’s display of roses.
God, she doesn’t belong in my world.
But I want her here anyway.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks suddenly, her eyes snapping to mine.
I don’t answer right away. Just lean back and say, “Because you’re real. And most things in my life aren’t.”
She blinks, stunned by the softness in my tone. She turns away again, and this time, I just let her be.
Maxim finally pulls the car to a smooth stop in front of a sleek, dark high-rise. The building towers above us—glass, steel, and silence. No tenants. No staff. Not even a sign on the front. Just one of many places with my name hidden deep in its paperwork.
Violet leans forward slightly, eyes scanning the building with curiosity. “Where are we?”
“Just a place I own,” I say. “Come.”
We step out, and I guide her past the hollow lobby and into a private elevator tucked in the back. I swipe a keycard and press the button for the rooftop. She says nothing, but I can feel her pulse shift as we rise.
The doors slide open into a world of open sky and endless horizon.
She steps out first, breath catching.
It’s all here—the full sprawl of the city below us. The river carving through it like a knife. The sun glinting off rooftops and towers. The constant hum of motion far beneath our feet. But up here, everything is still.
“You like it?” I ask.
Violet nods slowly, walking toward the edge where a glass railing encases the rooftop. She presses her fingers against it, wind in her hair. “It’s beautiful.”
I join her, standing just a few feet away. Close enough to feel her heat.
“I come here when I need to remember something,” I say.
She glances over at me. “What?”
“That everything below us?” I nod toward the chaos of the city. “It eventually burns.”
She stares at me, unsure if she’s supposed to be afraid or intrigued.
I take a step closer. Her breath hitches.
“But not you,” I murmur. “Whatever tried to touch you back there in my house—whoever sent the knife and the message and the fear—they’re below us now. And I’m telling you right here, none of them will ever get close to you again.”
She doesn’t say anything.
Her eyes are still locked on mine, wide and unreadable. Her lips part like she wants to argue or question me or push me away again—but for once, she doesn’t.
And somehow, that silence means everything.
I’m about to turn away when she shivers.
It’s subtle—barely a tremble—but I catch it. The rooftop wind wraps around her like ice. The dress she’s wearing, all satin and softness, was never meant for heights like this.
Without a word, I shrug off my jacket and step in close behind her, draping it around her shoulders. She stiffens slightly at my touch, but she doesn’t pull away.
I lean in.
Just one kiss—light, slow, burning with restraint—pressed to the back of her neck where her skin is warm against the wind. Her breath catches. I feel her sway, just slightly, like her body doesn’t know whether to lean into me or run.
Then she turns.
Eyes lifted. Lips parted. Face tipped up toward mine.
Her voice is almost a whisper. “You’re going to ruin me.”
I don’t smile. Not fully. Just a quiet, knowing breath that feels like a laugh. I trace the edge of her jaw with my thumb and look straight into those stormy eyes of hers.
“You weren’t made for anything soft, solnyshko,” I say.
Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t back away. Not yet.
She’s so close I can taste her breath. Vanilla and fear.
Fire and something sweet I don’t have a name for.
Every inch of me is screaming to devour her—but I don’t.
Not yet. I wait. Because this—this—is the moment just before the storm.
The moment where she decides if she’ll jump with me, or run from the edge.
And fuck, I want her to jump.
When she hesitates for one more second, I lose every bit of my control and take her mouth—finally, completely—my lips crashing into hers like they’ve been waiting a lifetime.
She gasps into the kiss, then melts against me, kissing me back with a hunger that makes my control slip, unraveling like smoke.
She wants this. Wants me.
And fuck, that knowledge undoes me.
I push her gently, firmly, until her back hits the rooftop wall. Her hands are fisted in my shirt now, tugging me closer like she can’t get enough, and I’m right there with her. My hands slide up her sides, slow and sure, until they’re cupping her breasts over the thin fabric of her dress.
She lets out the softest sound, muffled against my mouth—and I nearly lose it. Every inch of me burns for her.
While one hand caresses her breast over her dress, the other hand dips low, pushing her dress higher up her thighs and finding her sweet heat. She’s wearing panties, and the moment I touch her clit through the lace, she whimpers, an incoherent cry dropping from her mouth.
Fuck. I want to take my time, but this isn’t exactly the place for that. Yet, she’s holding me so tightly, her eyes squeezed shut, I know she craves release.
I shift her panties to the side and brush my thumb against her swollen clit. She’s fucking wet, the evidence of her desire dripping all over my hands. Desperate and obsessed, I pull my hand out of her pussy and suck my finger into my mouth.
It tastes better than the finest wine.
Her eyes fly open, dark with lust and desire. “Kaz, don’t stop.”
A hot smolder lances through me, and I wrap a hand around her neck. “What do you want?”
“Your touch.” She grabs my hand, but I hold firm, refusing to give her what she wants.
“Beg for it, solnyshko,” I murmur, leaning forward, running the tip of my tongue across her lower lip. “Beg.”
Her eyes widen. “Kaz….”
“Show me how much you want it.” I slip a hand underneath her dress again, brushing a finger over her clit, teasing her.
“Please.” She grinds over my hand. “Kaz, please. I can’t.”
I claim her lips again in a short, fiery kiss. “You beg so prettily, my sun. I’ll do you one better.”
Before she can ask what I mean, I sink to my knees, hold her dress around her waist, and cover her pussy with my mouth. She screams, clasping her thighs around my face so hard, I can barely breathe.
“Kaz. Oh, no. Oh, please,” she cries, grinding onto my mouth.
I push my tongue into her pussy, fucking her with it while my lips brush over her pussy lips. She comes loudly and suddenly, drenching me in her juice. She slides down to the floor, and I catch her in my arms, laughing at the delirium in her expression.
“You liked that, huh?”
“Yes.” Her face is flushed pink with pleasure, and I hold her close because I can’t bear not having her in my arms.
“Let’s go home,” she says, and there’s something in her eyes that brooks no argument.
Without a word, I scoop her up into my arms. She lets out a quiet breath, but doesn’t resist. Her head rests lightly against my shoulder as I carry her back through the rooftop door, into the private elevator, and down to the car, where Maxim is still waiting behind the wheel.
He raises an eyebrow when he sees us, but wisely says nothing.
The drive back is quiet. Tense. Not between us—but in the air, like a storm crawling on its belly just beyond the horizon. I can feel it. And then, as we approach the estate, Maxim and I sit up because the estate gate is open and there are no guards there.
“What the fuck,” I mutter as Maxim slows the car. The sensors should have triggered an alert. The gate only opens by command—or by force.
And there are no commands tonight.
My hand flies to my side holster, instincts crackling like electricity.
Just then, Arina’s voice cuts through the car radio, sharp and strained.
“Kaz, do not enter casually. We’ve had a breach.
Someone tripped the perimeter alarm five minutes ago.
I’ve already sent teams, but you and Violet need to be very careful. ”
My jaw clenches.
A breach tonight, after everything? After I took her out of the compound for one damn hour?
Violet tenses beside me, picking up on my energy even before she hears the message. Her eyes dart to mine, wide and questioning.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, even though I’m not sure it is. “I’ve got you.”
Maxim grips the wheel tighter. “We going in?”
I nod once. “Slow. Quiet. And be ready.”
Because whoever had the audacity to break into my home while I had her out here…is about to find out exactly what kind of hell they just stepped into.