Chapter 3 - An Unexpected Offer
Her mind screamed at her to run. Every instinct she had built over two years of surviving inside the syndicate warned her that stepping through that doorway meant stepping into a fire she couldn't control.
Yet, her legs didn't obey her fear.
Slowly, her fingers pushed the heavy oak door open. The wood creaked softly as she stepped into the private sanctuary of the Pakhan.
Damon sat behind his mahogany desk. He hadn't bothered to button his shirt or fix his trousers. He looked entirely wild, raw, and dominant, staring at her like a predator watching prey walk voluntarily into its trap.
"How much did you see?" he asked quietly, his voice gravelly and dangerous.
Alina swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears so loudly it felt like lightning. She gripped her hands tightly in front of her uniform apron.
"Enough, sir," she whispered, her voice surprisingly steady despite the terror and thrilling heat coursing through her blood.
Damon leaned back in his leather chair, resting his dark, tattooed forearms on the desk. A dangerous, amused smile touched the corner of his lips, though his eyes remained dark and heavy with unsated desire.
"You should be running to Mrs. Croll," he said softly. "Or running out the back gate. You know what happens to servants who spy on the Pakhan?"
"I wasn't spying," Alina said, taking a small, bold step forward. The sheer adrenaline surging through her veins gave her a sudden, reckless surge of courage. "I was bringing the linens."
Damon’s gaze dropped to her mouth, then traced the line of her throat down to the tight buttons of her maid's collar. "You're shaking, little girl."
"I'm not little," she countered, her heart leaping into her throat.
Damon let out a low, breathy laugh that sent shivers straight down her spine. "No. You're not. But you are innocent. I can smell it on you, Alina. You don't know the first thing about a man like me."
Alina looked at his broad, scarred chest, at the heavy vein pulsing in his neck, and down to the unmistakable proof of his frustration resting beneath his belt.
She took another step toward the desk, her knees trembling, but her gaze locked fearlessly with his.
"You look like you're in pain, sir," she murmured, her voice dropping into a breathless, sweet cadence.
Damon went entirely still. The amusement vanished from his face, replaced by a sudden, fierce hunger that made the air in the room feel suffocating.
"What did you just say?" he rasped.
May you like
Alina reached up, her small, pale fingers unbuttoning the top button of her high maid collar, exposing the soft skin of her neck.
"I said you look like you're in pain," she repeated softly, stepping right up to the edge of his desk. "Let me help you."
