Page 38 of Felix

“Who?” I ask, curiosity piqued.

“Matteo.” She beams at me. “Just know you got something special, girl.”

I laugh, feeling a pang of gratitude for this woman who barely knows me yet has my back. Still, the thought of Felix, the man I’m falling in love with, being so dangerous sends a shiver down my spine.

“Thanks, Eleanor,” I tell her sincerely. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“Good.” She grins, raising her glass in a toast. “Here’s to us and dealing with our fucked-up men.”

“Cheers to that,” I agree, clinking my glass against hers and relishing the burn as I swallow my whiskey.

Footsteps echo through the hallway as the men make their way up from the basement. I glance at Eleanor, who smirks knowingly, and we can’t help but burst into laughter when they enter the kitchen. Their eyes narrow suspiciously, probably thinking we’re hiding some deep, dark secret.

“Whatcha ladies giggling about?” Matteo asks, trying to sound intimidating but failing miserably.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eleanor teases, taking a swig of her whiskey.

Felix rolls his eyes at our antics and claps his hands together. “Alright, enough chit-chat. Let’s eat,” he commands, his voice firm but with a hint of amusement. “Darling, can you grab some plates and cutlery?” He movesto the bench and grabs the bag of pasta, placing it on the table.

“Sure thing,” I reply, walking to the cabinets. As I gather the necessary items, I can’t help but think about what Eleanor told me earlier. Could I really have such an effect on this dangerous man? What would it mean for our future together?

We all sit down to eat, the atmosphere more relaxed as we share stories and jokes. The hours pass by in a blur of laughter and camaraderie, something I never thought I’d experience with these hardened individuals.

Eventually, Eleanor and Matteo rise to leave, with the clock striking well past midnight. As she hugs me goodbye, Eleanor slips me a business card with her cell number on it.

“Call me anytime, alright?” She looks at me seriously, her eyes filled with genuine concern. “You’re gonna need someone to talk to in this crazy world.”

“Thanks, Eleanor,” I say, clutching the card tightly. “I appreciate it.”

With a final wave, Eleanor and Matteo depart, leaving Felix and me alone in the kitchen.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Felix Greyson

The door slams shut, and I can’t help myself any longer. I turn to Aurora, her long, black hair cascading down her back, those dark eyes locking onto mine. I gently cup her face and lean in, pressing my lips softly against hers. “I love you,” I murmur, feeling the words vibrate between us.

Aurora freezes like she’s hit a damn wall or something. Her eyes widen, and I see a storm brewing behind them. Is this too much? Have I pushed her too far?

But then, something snaps. The next thing I know, she launches herself at me, her mouth crashing onto mine with a ferocity that takes my breath away. Her kisses are rough, hard, demanding, and everything I never knew I needed. Without breaking our connection, I scoop her up in my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist like a vice.

“Bedroom,” she growls out between kisses, and I don’t need to be told twice.

My heart pounds as I carry her through the house, bothof us desperate for more. It’s like we’re two magnets pulled together by an unstoppable force. The past, the pain, the scars—none of it matters right now. All that exists is this moment and connection between us.

As we reach the bedroom, I kick open the door and stride inside, feeling Aurora’s nails dig into my shoulders. She’s a wild animal, untamed and fierce.

I lower Aurora’s feet to the floor, her body trembling with anticipation. I step back, my eyes never leaving hers. “Strip,” I demand, my voice firm and commanding.

She hesitates for a moment, but then her hands move swiftly, undressing herself without breaking eye contact. Her clothes drop to the floor like shed skin, revealing the beautiful canvas of tattoos that dance across her body. A shiver runs down my spine—she’s never looked more vulnerable and enticing at the same time.

“Kneel,” I order, and she complies immediately, sinking to the floor with her head bowed. The sight sends a surge of power through me, every muscle in my body tensing with excitement. I can feel myself growing harder by the second.

“Come here,” I tell her, my voice barely above a whisper. She crawls towards me on her hands and knees, grace and submission blending into one intoxicating package. As she reaches my feet, she glances up at me, her dark eyes filled with an unspoken question.

“Undo my laces,” I command, and she obeys without hesitation, her fingers nimble and quick as they work to free my feet from their leather confines. My shoes fall to the floor with a soft thud, and I can’t help but smile at her kneeling before me, completely under my control.

“Good girl,” I murmur, reaching down to gently stroke her hair.

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