Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“You’re not broken, Carter. You’re just untrained.”
Those words had hit me harder than I braced for.
Because for once, I felt like someone understood.
And something about that — about being seen, being heard — quieted the noise. Coach Leduc’s voice, usually so loud in my mind, barking critiques and shaking his head with that look that made me feel like I’d never be enough… it faded. It wasn’t gone completely, but it was like someone had turned down the dial.
I had no idea how long that would last.
But it felt like the first breath after being underwater for years.
And now, with that breath still fresh in my lungs, I was pulling up to a mansion on Bayshore Boulevard — my pulse thudding and Livia smirking beside me — about to step into a place that made me feel as inexperienced and incompetent as ever.
“Don’t look so scared,” Livia purred from the passenger seat of my Range Rover. I had to admit, I loved seeing her there. I loved how her legs were crossed, how the coat she wore exposed the top of her knee and begged me to slide my hand over her smooth skin. I thought about it more than once on our drive over, but held back, remembering how she’d reacted when I’d kissed her without asking.
This was her game, her show, her rules. My job was to behave myself — even when it felt impossible to do.
“Can you blame me?” I asked, pausing at the large iron gate. “I had to sign an NDA and get a full background check for you to bring me here, and I have no idea what waits for me inside.”
“Fun,” she said easily. “That’s what waits for you.”
“I think we’ve established that our definitions of things like that differ a bit.”
Livia smirked as the gate slid open with a slow, mechanical hum, revealing a driveway that looked like it had been ripped from the pages of Architectural Digest — all clean lines and softly glowing lanterns nestled among perfectly manicured hedges. The mansion at the end of it was massive but not gaudy. It sprawled out confidently along the bay, all sleek stone and glass, its silhouette lit with the soft, golden warmth of well-placed lighting.
I whistled low under my breath. “Damn.”
The valet opened Livia’s door the second we stopped at the front portico. She stepped out in tall, chocolate brown stilettos with red bottoms, that long brown coat cinched at her waist and hiding whatever wicked thing she was wearing underneath. I followed, adjusting the jacket of my own dark, low-profile suit — she’d told me to wear black and nothing else. I hadn’t dared argue.
The front doors were wide open, spilling warm light and low music out into the night. A man stood just inside, tall and built like he doubled as a bouncer on the side. His black suit was crisp, his expression unreadable. Though we could hear the party inside, we couldn’t see it. A tall black curtain hung from the ceiling all the way to the floor, puddling on the marble behind where the bouncer stood.
He held out a velvet-lined box without a word.
Livia unfastened just enough of her coat to reach her phone, revealing a sliver of sheer, dark brown fabric beneath before she slipped her phone into the box. I followed her lead, depositing my own phone, smart watch, and keys. The man gave a small nod, then gestured to a second, shorter man behind him with latex gloves and a scanning wand.
“Really?” I asked under my breath as the wand passed over my chest and down the inside of my thigh. “We getting frisked?”
“I told you,” Livia said, amusement curling in her voice. “No cameras. No surprises. Everyone here knows the rules.”
I arched a brow as the wand beeped at the button on my waistband.
“Yeah, yeah, NDA and all. Where exactly have you brought me, Mistress?”
A fire I’d never seen before flashed in Livia’s eyes with that title, and she rewarded me by sliding a hand up the back of my neck, her fingers curling possessively. Her mouth was close to my ear when she whispered, “Welcome to The Manor.”
Then she led me behind the curtain.
Instantly, the noise that had been a muffle from outside enveloped me. The music was low and rhythmic, something jazzy and seductive. Conversations murmured all around us, laughter blending with the clink of glasses and… moans?
Yeah. That was definitely moaning I was hearing.
The ceiling soared above us, modern chandeliers dripping crystals that refracted light into rainbows across the white marble floor. The windows were floor-to-ceiling, offering a glimmering view of the water beyond. Every inch of the place gleamed — silver trays, mirrored accents, glass sculpture installations — and yet, it still managed to feel intimate. Dark.
Sexy.
But as I scanned the room, I realized that though the house was impressive, it was the people inside it who demanded the most attention.