Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Robert
I watch her.
I’m hard. Painfully so.
My body reacts before I can even think through it, my cock hard, straining against my pants, aching in a way that feels almost unfair.
I shift slightly, but it doesn’t help.
If anything, it makes it worse.
There’s a heaviness to it. A pull. Like my body is leaning toward her even from here, even without touching, without being close enough to matter.
I exhale slowly, trying to stifle it, but it lingers.
It builds.
It’s frustrating… how easily she does this. How she doesn’t even know she’s doing it.
And I can’t look away from the monitors.
I lean back slightly, one hand resting against the arm of the chair, the other loose, idle, but my attention is anything but.
Christine fills the screen without knowing it.
She’s on the bed now, the gold and red of the room clinging to her skin, wrapping around her like the suite was designed for this exact moment. For her. For me to watch.
And I take my time.
There’s no rush when you already know how something ends.
I watch her move like she’s trying not to feel what she’s feeling. Like she’s fighting herself more than anything else.
It’s subtle at first. The almost shy way her hand slides between her legs, the slow parting of them, like she’s giving in inch by inch before slipping her hand underneath.
The sound she makes when she arches into her own touch hits me instantly, causing a shiver to run straight down my cock.
I grunt under my breath, feeling the arousal compounds, sweat breaking across my skin as my body contracts around it.
I’ve seen this before. Not her, but this.
My gaze points, narrowing just slightly as she tilts her head, eyes closed, completely unaware of how exposed she is, how open.
How far gone.
She moves again, riding her fingers.
I push off the seat abruptly, the chair scraping faintly behind me as I stand. The pressure is too much sitting down, too close to snapping into something I’m not ready to give in to yet.
I start pacing but each step winds it further, my hands flexing at my sides before I drag one through my hair, exhaling through my nose.
I could go to her right now.
I could end my suffering.
I pace instead, back and forth, the room suddenly too small for what’s building in me. Every sound she makes pulls at me, every shift of her body dragging me closer to the edge I’m choosing not to cross.
She moves again, and this time there’s no hesitation in it.
The rhythm blends into her body like she’s found it, like she’s no longer testing the feeling but chasing it, her hips lifting slightly, meeting her own hand, giving in to it in a way that pulls something blinding in me.
I stop.
Mid-step. Mid-breath.
Everything in me stills at once, like something unseen just snapped into place.
My eyes lock on the monitor, drawn in closer without me moving yet, every shift of her, every subtle arch, every small, broken sound tugging around my focus until there’s nothing else left in the room but her.
I take a step closer.
Then another as if I’m being pulled instead of choosing to move.
By the time I stop, I’m close enough that the screen fills everything, close enough that I can see the way the intense pleasure takes her, the way her body finally gives in.
And then… “Robert”
My name slips past her lips, sinking into me in a way that feels earned, not given.
A slow smile pulls at the corner of my mouth, reflecting the satisfaction threading through me.
My work here is eighty percent done.
Much to my surprise, I have her where I need her to be.
It was the innocence in those gray eyes that pulled me in. The way she looked at me without hesitation, without the instinct to step back. How daring she was to speak to a man like me.
Most people feel it.
They sense what I am from a distance and avoid me like a plague, like something that shouldn’t be touched.
But not her.
My darkness didn’t push her away. It called to something in her. Something buried.
The part of her she tries to hide behind that blinding ray of light.
And I want it out.
I want to see how far it goes. How deep it runs. How dark it really is in her head when she stops pretending.
Because it’s there.
I’ve seen enough to know.
And for one night, I want to step into it with her.
I straighten slightly, adjusting myself before stepping back, my attention still lingering on the screen for a fraction longer than necessary, as if sealing the moment in place.
Then I turn, my fingers brushing my cuff, straightening it out of habit more than necessity.
There’s something deeply satisfying about walking into a moment that’s already been set.
And I intend to step straight into it.
The hallway outside is quiet, but not empty. My men fall in step the second I step out, like they’ve been waiting for the signal they don’t need spoken.
“Don.” Enzo is closest, as always.
“Bring Daniel.” I don’t look at him. “Now.”
“On it.” He pivots immediately, already moving toward the room Daniel’s been kept in.
Locked in.
The others continue behind me as I move through the stairs, going back up. Past the casino, to the hallway of the suite. My pace is unhurried, the kind that makes people adjust to you without realizing they’re doing it.
By the time I reach the door, it’s already unlocked.
I push it open without knocking.
Christine jerks upright, the air in the room changing as fast as her expression does. Whatever haze she was in snaps, replaced with something rawer.
Panic. Anger. Exposure.
“Who the…” She grabs for the nearest thing, pulling it around herself, her voice rising before I’ve even taken two steps inside. “What… Robert?” She freezes, recognition settling in, making it worse.
She opens her mouth, closes it, like the words are there but refuse to come out right.
“Get out.” She throws as I close the door behind me.
My gaze moves over her once, taking in the disarray, the tension still lingering in her body, the way her chest rises and falls like she hasn’t caught up to herself yet.
Then I look at her properly.
“I wouldn’t shout,” I start calmly. “It won’t help you.”
Her eyes flash.
“Get out,” she repeats, louder now, like volume will give the words more power.
I ignore it.
Instead, I move further into the room, uninvited and unbothered.
“Daniel hasn’t told you, has he?” I ask.
I see the way her expression falters for half a second.
“Tell me what?” She snaps back, but there’s something underneath it now. Something uncertain.
I don’t answer immediately because timing matters. So I let the silence float just enough before I speak again.
“He’s in debt.” My words are simple, hitting exactly where they’re meant to.
“No.” Her brows pull together, confusion first, then resistance. “No, that’s not…”
“It is,” I cut in, still calm. “And not small debt either.”
She shakes her head, already rejecting it before it can take root.
I watch her.
Really watch her.
For a second I think about closing the distance between us and fucking the defiance out of her. Stripping her down to nothing but reaction. Peeling that red bra and matching thong off her skin with my teeth.
My fingers curl slightly at my side, already imagining the feel of her hair wrapped between them, the way her head would tilt back, the way her eyes would water, not from weakness but from how much of my cock she’s taking, how deep I’d push it inside her.
Argh.
I want her.
And I’ve never been a man who doesn’t take what he wants.
Never learned how to.
Her head shakes before I move, before I decide anything, already rejecting it, rejecting me, like she can feel the direction of my thoughts without me saying a word.
“You’re lying.”
A soft knock comes on the door.
Perfect timing.
The door opens, and Enzo steps in, Daniel just ahead of him.
Christine’s head snaps toward the door so fast it’s almost violent.
“Daniel?” Relief first floods her, then confusion again.
“Hey.” Daniel doesn’t meet her eyes immediately.
That should tell her everything.
She’s off the bed before I can stop her, moving toward him, grabbing onto him like proximity will force an explanation out of him.
“What is he talking about?” She demands. “Daniel, what is this?”
“It's…” He stumbles over it. “It’s… It’s nothing, Chris, okay? I’ve got it handled”
“You don’t.” I clip.
That cuts through whatever lie he was about to build.
I step closer, not enough to crowd them, but enough to be felt.
“He owes me,” I continue, my gaze settling on him now. “More than he can pay.”
Christine’s grip tightens on Daniel’s arm.
“So what? That has nothing to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you.” I look at her then.
The silence that follows is dense, stilling her.
“What… What do you mean?” She asks, stuttering now.
“He offered you.” I hold her gaze, making sure to catch the moment reality slams into her.
I watch it happen. The disbelief. The rejection. The moment it tries to rearrange itself into something that makes more sense.
“No,” she breathes. “No, that’s not… Daniel?” She turns to him again.
This time, he doesn’t answer fast enough.
She shoves him hard.
“What did you do?” Her voice cracks now, anger breaking through. “What did you do?”
He stumbles back a step, caught between guilt and irritation, like he didn’t expect her to react this way. Like he thought he could talk his way around it.
“Christine…”
“What did you do?” She repeats, louder this time, her hands coming up again, hitting his chest, his arm, anything she can reach. “Answer me!”
“It’s not what you think…”
Her hand connects with his face, the sound cutting through the room.
“Don’t you dare,” she snaps, her whole body shaking now. “Don’t you stand there and lie to me again.”
He exhales, grinding his teeth, something defensive creeping into his expression.
“I had no choice.”
She gives a disbelieving laugh.
“No choice?” She hits him again, harder. “You always have a choice, Daniel.”
“You don’t get it…”
“Then make me understand.” She yells, pushing him again. “Explain how I suddenly became something you can owe to someone.”
His eyes flick toward me for a second and something shifts in him.