Page 32 of Death By Chocolate

I won't let Xeno's betrayal—no matter how well-intentioned—undo all of that.

Tomorrow, I'll unravel whatever web of lies and "protection" he's woven around me. And I'll do my job, keeping him alive even as I kill whatever this thing between us was becoming.

Because people like us don't get happy endings. We just survive, taking what scraps of life we can, and learn not to expect more.

As I finally drift towards sleep, a single tear escapes, trailing down my cheek. In the morning, I'll blame my tears on the hole in my chest, not the one in my heart. But for now, in the dark, I let myself mourn what could have been—if only love were enough to heal our broken pieces.

16

DANI

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN

I’m dressed in my uniform, a red suit with black silk underneath. My new lace front sways when I walk, and my eyes glow an eerie green, House is fully-synced and online. Da’bitch attitude is in full wattage. Beads of water trace paths down the bronze planes of his chest, following the ridges of scars that tell stories he's never shared. He's naked, his cock semi-erect, and despite everything I know, everything I suspect, my mouth still waters as I drink him in. My body remembers his touch, betraying my resolve with a rush of heat between my thighs.

“Hey,” he says when he sees me standing at the foot of the bed. The sheets are rumpled in a heap from where we made lo—where he fucked me. “Quiet last night. Again, this morning. You good?”

I shrug, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Yeah." Liar, my mind whispers. Nothing about this is good.

“Hmm,” he says, taking me in his arms. His skin is still shower-warm, and I hate how my body instinctively melts into his touch. "You'll have to be more convincing," he grins, grindinghis erection into my stomach. The familiar hardness sends a jolt of want through me that I ruthlessly suppress.

“Actually, I don’t. As you are no longer my concern.” The words taste like last night’s party, stale and putrid in my mouth.

His hand tightens around my waist, fingers digging into the high-tech fabric. “Come again?”

“We’re done. I want you gone today. You can return to your suite or leave The Governor. If you intend to remain a resident here, a security officer will be assigned to you.”

“If I intend,” he growls. “I’m not going anywhere.” With one hand, he grips the back of my neck. “Neither are you, ma cherie.”

“Is that what you told your brother? I overheard his warning. ”His eyes widen, but then he recovers quickly. “You betrayed me.”

“After the shit we’ve been through, you think I’d set you up?”

I steel my resolve against the pain in his voice. “I don’t think it, Voss. I know it.”

“You don’t shit. And it's what you don’t know that will get you killed.”

“Enlighten me, please.”

“Like you need to take off that fucking suit. You don’t need it, Dani. You’re brave, fearless, you don’t need a crutch.”

“Fuck you. House doesn’t fuck me over. House doesn’t lie. House will—”

“Never love you like I do, Dani. Your trust in a machine is your weakness.”

I snort, in disbelief. “If we’re talking man versus machine. The men in my life—they have been the weakest links. My father—too weak to come from me. Oscar—too weak to be a man without putting his hands on me. And you—too weak to let me fight my own battles. I don’t need you. Just because I took a bullet and gave you my body, we aren’t connected. You are not family.”

“When were you going to tell me the man who attacked you is your fucking brother-in-love? Fucker’s obsessed with you?”

“You’ve been spying on me?” I tap the snakeskin watch on my wrist, my link to my security teams. “Confirm backup has arrived.”

“And you’ve been lying to me,” he accuses. “House, deny access to all visitors.”

“I’ve never lied to you, asshole. Omar is a threat. I’ll handle my business. You were my client. I was trying to protect you from my past.”

“And I’m trying to love you,” Xeno roars. His bare chest heaves as if he’s running a marathon and falling behind the competition.

I steel my spine. Love doesn’t exist; it is fiction sold to women in three hundred pages of happily-ever-after bullshit. “Don’t go there, Voss.”

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