CHAPTER 165: HIS HUNGER, MY CONTROL

–Damon–

We rolled past the bank in silence. A patrol car was parked right outside, and the officer inside looked too awake for my liking. No, we wouldn’t be walking into that lion’s den. I never stick to one plan anyway—alternatives keep men like me alive.

So, we drove out of town. A smaller bank, unremarkable, discreet. Not the kind that drew federal attention. But one of my men had a thread of influence there, and the manager—conveniently the co-owner—had ties to Sophia. That was enough for me.

"I didn’t expect Sophia to give us details using the Uesige Cipher. I’m not familiar with it," Caine muttered, frowning at the numbers streaming through our earpieces.

Kai, however, was grinning like a boy with the answer sheet to a rigged exam. He had the cipher chart open.

"That’s because you’re thinking of it like a simple code," I said, leaning back, voice low but sharp. "Uesige Cipher doesn’t work like that. It’s built on layers—numbers spoken out of sequence, but each one tied to modular intervals. Think of it as a three-dimensional map: one axis is time, one is position, one is intent. You don’t read it—you triangulate it."

Sophia’s voice continued in our ears, steady and calm, feeding what sounded like random digits. But to the trained eye, it was a net catching leaks.

"First rendezvous compromised." Kai translated.

"Second rendezvous surrounded."

Exactly. The cipher turned nonsense into precise warnings. Brilliant, but dangerous in the wrong hands.

That’s what led us to the co-owner’s house instead of a bloodbath. I would’ve preferred Nuuk—Bank of Greenland, the beating heart of the country. But I trust Sophia. And if she vouched for this man, then the man was good as mine.

We arrived at his residence and were ushered in like old friends. Shortly after, he himself drove us to the bank, no questions asked. Disguises in place, we moved through the lobby unseen until he guided us down to the vault.

"Let us know if you need anything else, sir," Mr. Larsen said with careful respect, handing over a bankbook under my son’s name. The one that Livana and I had decided to give.

"Thank you."

I didn’t sign as myself. Never give a wolf your real scent. Instead, I signed under the name of a child not yet born—my heir. Along with it went other documents: my Will, notarized by Blackwell’s finest lawyers, and a key that only my bloodline would unlock. The future written in ink.

Once the transaction was done, Larsen drove us back toward Tasiilaq. That’s when I noticed the headlights behind us. Tail. Persistent. Larsen slowed, pulled over, and looked back at us with the kind of smile men wear when they’ve just signed their last deal.

"Be safe," he said simply, stepping out as we switched into Gerald’s waiting Hummer.

"Boss," Gerald called, his hands tight on the wheel, "I got the package you asked for."

From the paper bag, I pulled a small wooden chest. The lock clicked open.

"Whoa!" Kai’s voice cracked. "Is that... alexandrite?"

"Mm." I grinned, running my fingers over the shifting colors of the rare stone. "The rarest."

Caine lifted the small platinum canister. "And this? What’s with the platinum?"

"For the ring," I said matter-of-factly. "Platinum’s rare, too. My wife deserves nothing less. She’s rarer than both."

That shut them up for a moment.

"Where’d you even get this?" Kai asked, still staring at the gem like it might explode.

"My mine," I said simply.

They gaped, like children hearing their father was a god. I counted the stones, then slid one flawless one-carat alexandrite into a velvet pouch and handed it to Gerald.

He blinked, confused. "Boss?"

"For your future wife," I told him. His expression faltered before he lowered his head, humbled.

"Thank you, boss."

"Choose wisely," I warned. "Alexandrite is the rarest stone in the world. Give it only to the one who’s worth bleeding for. You did good today, Gerald—wiping out those traitors."

His boyish smile answered, innocent, undeserving of the dirt we waded in. Caine and Kai coughed awkwardly, and I shut the chest, tucking it into my pack.

"Bonus when we get home," I added.

We passed the bank again, still crawling with undercover agents. But Gerald slipped us clean into the villa’s garage, and relief washed over the team.

I stepped out, stretching. "Gerald, tomorrow I want the mission wrapped up in a week."

"Roger that, boss!" he said with that unshakable energy.

Inside, however, the villa was eerily still. No Deanne. No laughter. Not even Sophia’s cool voice.

Caine’s grin faltered. "Deanne~babe!" he called, but his echo met silence.

The house breathed wrong.

Caine rushed down the hall, flung open a bedroom, and came back pale.

Kai’s voice was low. "Sophia?"

The silence was the loudest thing I’d heard all day.

–Sophia–

The basement hummed like a beehive—machines whispering, wires carrying secrets, screens flickering with ghostly numbers. Livana sat calmly, her serene face unreadable, while Louie’s genius fingers danced invisibly from afar, controlling the system. Damon’s, Caine’s, and Kai’s traces vanished line by line, keystroke by keystroke, as if the men had never existed. A lover’s erasure.

I leaned against the desk, my smile curving as I watched the footage from the surveillance feed. There they were—our wolves returning from the hunt, slipping out of Gerald’s Hummer with all the weight of power and blood on their shoulders. Gerald shut the garage, practical as always, and lugged something from the trunk. The men looked restless, prowling through the house, voices sharp with frustration as they searched for us.

"Should I go upstairs?" I asked sweetly, twirling a pen between my fingers.

Deanne didn’t even glance at me, her eyes glued to the monochrome stream of data. "Go. Distract them if you like." Her tone was cool, calculating.

That was permission enough.

I slipped away through the secret passage from the storage room, the kind of door that would make a spy moan in envy. Emerging into the library, I adjusted my dress just so—slightly off-shoulder, teasing.

And there he was.

"Sophia!" Kai nearly flung himself at me, boyish desperation dripping from him. His lips trailed kisses across my skin, feverish, greedy. I smirked, tilting my chin like a queen indulging her knight.

"Where did you go?" he pouted, his voice a mix of accusation and longing. Then, softer, "That Uesige Cipher you taught me... damn useful."

"Mmm, of course." My voice purred, silk with an edge. My arms slid around his nape, nails grazing the back of his neck. "Most people reduce themselves to Morse. Predictable. Boring. Uesige is different—she dances. Patterns hidden in time, rhythm, silence. A language that rewards only those clever enough to listen." I brushed my lips against his ear, whispering like a promise. "Like you."

His breath hitched. I leaned closer, my smile wicked. "Now... fuck me here."

His hesitation lasted less than a heartbeat. His hands crushed against my waist, slamming me back against the wall as his mouth claimed mine. The taste of hunger, of recklessness, of a boy trying to keep up with a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

His lips trailed down my throat as his hands lifted my dress, bunching silk in his fists. He groaned, guttural, before dropping to his knees. One strong hand hooked my leg up over his shoulder, and his mouth pressed hot and relentless between my thighs.

"Oh, Kai..." My gasp sliced the air, sharp and sweet. The hallway was empty—or at least I believed it was. Did I care? No. That only made it more intoxicating.

"Fuck!" he growled against me, tongue working like sorcery, his impatience spilling into every stroke. My nails scratched the wall as I arched, gasping, trembling at his merciless rhythm.

Somewhere nearby, Caine’s voice barked out, irritated. "I hope no one’s fucking here!"

I let out a laugh that was half-moan, half-taunt. "Go another way, darling. We are fucking here."

His sigh echoed faintly, resigned.

"Where’s Deanne?" he demanded from a distance.

"She’s busy," I moaned, gripping Kai’s hair as pleasure rippled through me. "She’ll come to you shortly."

Kai didn’t stop—not for Caine, not for Damon’s shadow that loomed even in absence, not for the world. His tongue worshipped, devoured, claimed. I reveled in it, my body shaking as I pulled him tighter against me.

Let them hear. Let them know. I was Sophia—cheerful, dangerous, insatiable. A femme fatale doesn’t hide her hunger. She lets the whole house feel it.

Kai couldn’t wait. His restraint snapped like glass, and then he was inside me—urgent, hungry. My back pressed hard to the wall, my legs locked around his waist as he drove into me with feverish rhythm. Our bodies tangled in heat and desperation, moans spilling recklessly into the library’s silence.

Let the cameras watch. Let the walls keep our secret. I didn’t care. I only wanted Kai—his passion, his devotion, his raw worship.

Minutes blurred, stretching into fifteen, maybe more. Every thrust, every kiss branded itself into my skin. I wasn’t foolish. I never planned to carry a child. But we never bothered with barriers. That was the thrill, wasn’t it? Risk stitched into pleasure. Still, I had my precautions—little white pills that kept me in control, even when my body wasn’t.

When the storm finally softened, he stayed buried inside me, chest heaving against mine. His hands lingered on my hips, one palm sliding over the curve of my backside as if he couldn’t let go.

"Sophia..." His voice was hoarse, reverent. He pressed his forehead to mine, fingers curling tighter. "I want to... impregnate you."

My breath caught, not from tenderness, but surprise. My smile faltered into a small grimace as I searched his eyes. Did he really mean that?

"Kai," I murmured, brushing his damp hair back from his face, my tone smooth as silk yet edged with disbelief. "That’s a very dangerous desire."