CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LILA
My nerves feel electrified, but this time, not in a good way. I’m on edge. Paranoid. Practically looking over my shoulder every time I turn a corner. I could barely sit still for the rest of the workday, and I couldn’t bring myself to see Mom, but I did call to check on her.
The image of Volkov’s face on that board is seared into the back of my eyelids, just like the fear tightening around my ribs. His thick Russian accent still sends shivers down my spine. It’s fear. Raw, real fear. I’m scared of him. And worst of all, I know he knows I am, even from prison.
Right before Heartford’s team stormed in, just as I was walking down the motel hall, Volkov leaned in, his breath hot and rancid on my neck, and whispered, “Run. Scream. Fight. None of it will save you. I will find you. I will find your family. And when I do… you’ll beg me to finish what I started. ”
I was his last known victim. And he probably thinks I helped take him down.
But I didn’t. They had been watching him for months.
I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And now I know he still has men. Somewhere.
Waiting and watching, taking more victims, murdering anyone who doesn’t play by their rules.
The clock on my nightstand ticks past 9:00 p.m. Then 10:47 p.m. Then 12:03 a.m.
I toss.
I turn.
I cuss into my pillow and seriously consider smothering myself with it just to shut my brain up .
"Dammit, why is time even a thing?" I groan, kicking the blankets off, then dragging them back up like they’ll protect me from whatever monsters are out there. Or worse… in here. I feel like a kid again, hiding from the shadows, hoping the dark doesn’t reach out and grab me. Only now, I know better.
The monsters don’t disappear when you grow up. They get smarter. Crueler. Real. I lie still, ears tuned to every sound.
CREAK. BOOM. KNOCK. SQUEAK.
Every little noise feels louder. Closer.
Like someone’s creeping toward me. Like, my walls aren’t nearly as solid as I thought.
"Maybe a little music will help me sleep.
" I turn on my Bluetooth speaker and let my playlist shuffle.
Then I hear it. Screaming and then banging on the elevator shaft from a few floors down.
It’s probably just stuck again. I groan. "Go to sleep."
But I can’t. Not with Volkov’s face burned into my mind.
Not with that voice still echoing in my head.
Not with fear breathing down my neck. Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my phone and pull it under the covers with me.
My fingers tremble as I unlock the screen.
The fear hasn’t left. It’s pressing on my chest like a weight.
I need a distraction from the monster in my past. But what if the one I want to text. .. is darker? Worse than Volkov?
The Red Mask.
The Unknown Subject stares back at me like a loaded weapon.
His first message is still there. Read. Unanswered.
I opened it on purpose. I wanted him to see it.
I wanted him to come after me. But he never did.
And now that I know it’s him, I guess it’s time to add him to my phone, so I can be prepared before I open the following message.
I hover over the message icon, my thumb suspended midair, caught between logic and desire. Between danger and safety. My heart hammers in my ears. And still, I press send.
LILA : Are you awake?
Minutes tick by. Nothing.
Maybe he’s asleep. Maybe he’s pissed. Perhaps I’m insane.
Buzz.
My stomach flips.
THE RED MASK: I am. I thought about not texting you back since you ignored me.
I breathe out. Relief? Lust? I don’t even know anymore.
LILA: I’m sorry. I’ve been busy, but this is an emergency… I need a distraction. Send me a dick pic or something. Anything.
There’s a beat of silence.
God, what am I doing?
THE RED MASK: Tempting. But I’m working out, so no. What’s wrong, Princess?
That name.
It sends a pulse straight through me.
LILA: I’m scared that someone from my past might come after me and hurt me... I can’t sleep.
THE RED MASK: He can try, but he won’t get close. He’d be dead before he reached your apartment door.
My brows draw together.
LILA: What do you mean?
THE RED MASK: I have cameras all over the outside of your building. And inside your apartment .
I shoot up in bed, dragging my blanket to my chest. My silk sleep dress clings to my thighs, the fabric cool against bare skin. No bra. No panties. I like to sleep freely. Untethered. But now I feel seen. And I cannot tell if that is a good thing or a very bad one.
THE RED MASK: Relax. No cameras in the bathroom. I’m not a complete creep.
My breathing turns ragged. I should feel violated. But instead, heat coils low in my stomach. He’s been watching me. And some sick part of me likes it.
LILA: What the hell?
LILA: Are you stalking me?
LILA: When did you install them?
LILA: How long have they been there?
I glance around the room, heart pounding. And then I see it. Tucked into the air vent beside my bed, barely visible unless you're looking for it, is the faint glint of a hidden camera lens.
Oh my God. That bastard can see everything. Every curve. Every soft sigh. Every night I lie in this bed, touching myself to the memory of a man I’ve never seen without his mask.
THE RED MASK: The night you cheated in the maze.
“Shit,” I whisper. I sit up straighter and stare directly at the vent, arms crossed and lips pouting. "Remove them."
THE RED MASK: Hahaha. That’s cute, but no.
I narrow my eyes, licking my lips. “Please, baby,” I purr toward the camera, letting my voice drop into a slow, sultry tease. My clit throbs.
Soft music thrums in the background, heightening my arousal. The fire he sparks inside me grows hotter, wilder, until it threatens to blaze out of control .
THE RED MASK: Don’t do that, Princess. I’ll come over and spank you.
Oh? Let’s test that threat.
I crawl to the foot of my bed, unhurried and controlled, aware of his eyes tracking my every move. I settle on my knees, poised like I could straddle anything he puts in front of me. My hands trail down my thighs, grazing the fabric as I lift the edge of my gown, higher, slower, teasing every inch.
The camera stares back like a dark, silent voyeur, and secretly I love being watched, as if I were made to perform for the ones I want… the Phantom and now him.
But tonight, they are not the temptation. I am.
I pause, spread wide just enough to tease my folds, lips parted, my heart thudding loud in my chest. The air vent stares back at me, and even though I can’t see him, I know he’s viewing me.
“If you don’t remove the cameras,”I whisper, letting my voice drip with a sensual touch,“you’ll have no choice but to watch this every night… and never touch a damn thing.”
THE RED MASK: Maybe that’s how I like it.
I smile, slow and wicked. “What if I moan someone else’s name?”
A beat of silence.
THE RED MASK: You better fucking not.
The message sends a jolt through me, hot and possessive and absolutely perfect. “ Ooo, I love when you get feisty. You’re making me so wet…”
But I want to push him. I need to. I want to taunt him.
Break his control. If I can get him here or near me, I can find out who he really is.
And once I do, I’ll make him mine. But the second I close my eyes, they multiply…
Kage’s dominance. Beck’s sweetness. Leon’s touch against my sk in.
The Phantom’s mystery. The Red Mask’s breath against my ear in the pleasure room.
Yep, I’m a whore, but at least I’m honest about it.
I moan softly as my fingers trail between my thighs, spreading the heat.
I don’t know which one of them I want worse. Or do I want them all? Hmmm. Can I have them all?
Kage flashes into my mind as my fingers circle my clit. The memory is fresh, still burning from the steamy elevator encounter this morning. The way our bodies were not touching, but it felt like his hands were all over my body. That cold glare. That fire. That unspoken dare.
“Kage…”I whisper, louder this time. “Right there, yes…”
My fingers move deeper, slower. My other hand cups my breast, teasing my nipple until I gasp.
Then… another image. The Phantom. Those haunting, icy eyes.
That tattooed chest, slick with sweat. The way he watched me pleasure myself.
The way I reacted, he reacted, and vice versa, as if we were wired the same.
“Oh God Kage… That’s it.” And finally… him. The one behind the cameras. The Red Mask.
I picture him at his high-tech desk, surrounded by glowing monitors casting a cool blue light across his mask.
His fingers glide across a sleek keyboard, shifting angles, rewinding, zooming in.
Surveillance feeds flicker like temptation on every screen.
But the center one, the one he’s obsessed with… is me.
Cheeks hot, legs parted, my fingers work in rhythm with my need. My other hand drifts lower until I gently slide into my entrance, stretching, filling, feeding the ache.
His jaw tightens. He leans back in his chair, unbuckles his belt, and pulls out his thick, pulsing erection. He grips it tight, stroking slowly, watching me with a hunger that borders on feral.
Wanting every part of me.
My body arches, caught in the fantasy of being surrounded by all three masked men. Their hands on my skin. Their breath in my ear. Their bodies are taking me apart, piece by trembling piece.
“Don’t stop,” I beg through clenched teeth. “Please. I’m so close.” I ride my fingers harder, faster, chasing the edge until the pressure inside me coils tight and ready to snap. My thighs tremble, my back arches, every nerve alive with heat.
And then I shatter. My body shakes, breathless, undone. A smirk tugs at my lips as my eyes flutter. Slowly, I slip my finger out of me and hold it up to the camera, showing just how drenched I am. Then I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck, slow and shameless, savoring every drop.
“Mmm… sweet like honey,” I let it tumble from my lips. “And baby,” I moan softly, dragging my nails across my own chest, “I hope you sleep like shit tonight.”
I roll onto my side, back to the camera, smiling.
THE RED MASK: You’re going to regret that, Princess.
I grin into my pillow, breath still heaving.
Let him come. No pun intended.
I want to know exactly what kind of monster I’ve just awakened.
And who’s behind the mask.