Bound To The Monster Who Ruined Me

The heavy brass wheels of the room service cart dragged against the thick carpet. Ayleen Avery leaned her weight against the cold wall of The Sargon Club's top-floor corridor. Her lungs burned with every breath. Waves of a persistent low-grade fever and dizzy spells sent tremors down her spine, making the opulent hallway spin in her vision. The walkie-talkie clipped to her apron crackled. "Avery. Get that wine into the VIP suite now. Stop stalling." The floor manager's voice was a sharp whip. Ayleen bit her lower lip hard enough to taste copper. She forced her trembling hands back onto the cart's handle. Suddenly, the corridor lights flickered and died. A circuit failure plunged the hallway into thick shadows. Ayleen blinked through the dizzying darkness. She pushed the cart forward, every step threatening to drain the absolute last ounce of her strength as her vision occasionally blacked out at the edges, stopping blindly in front of an unmarked door. She thought it was the right suite. She raised a knuckles to knock, but the heavy wooden door was already ajar. She pushed it open. A dense wave of cigar smoke and raw male pheromones hit her face. She stepped inside tentatively. The main lights were off. Heavy blackout curtains suffocated the moonlight, leaving the room pitch black. Deep in the shadows of the sofa, Cassius Doyle sat frozen. Three years of chronic insomnia had shredded his nervous system. The sound of footsteps entering his sanctuary made his muscles snap tight. His eyes locked onto the silhouette at the door. Ayleen took another step. Her knee slammed into the sharp edge of a glass coffee table. She let out a sharp gasp of pain. That tiny sound snapped the last thread of Cassius's sanity. He exploded from the darkness like a provoked beast. He crossed the carpet in three massive strides and clamped his hand around Ayleen's wrist. His grip was bone-crushing. Ayleen was yanked forward. Her feet left the floor. She crashed hard into a wall of solid, burning muscle. The scream died in her throat. She thrashed wildly, pushing at his chest. Cassius simply twisted both her wrists behind her back with one hand, pinning her against him. His ragged breathing scorched the skin of her neck. He was going to throw the intruder out. But then, it hit him. A faint, elegant scent of roses and rain radiated from her skin. It flooded his senses. Instantly, the splitting agony in his skull stopped. The relentless noise in his brain went dead silent. Pure, animalistic instinct took over. Cassius let out a low growl. He dipped his head and crushed his mouth over hers. Ayleen's fever-addled brain short-circuited. She whimpered, biting down hard on his lip to defend herself. The taste of blood only made him more ruthless. He plundered her mouth, completely overpowering her. He scooped her up into his arms. Ayleen kicked her legs in the air, but he carried her to the bedroom effortlessly and threw her onto the massive mattress. In the pitch black, fabric ripped. Ayleen squeezed her eyes shut. Hot tears slid into her hair. She was drowning in a violent storm she couldn't fight. Hours later, the storm broke. Wrapped tightly in Ayleen's scent, Cassius closed his eyes. For the first time in three years, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Dawn bled through the edges of the curtains. Ayleen jerked awake. Her entire body ached, a brutal reminder of the nightmare she had just lived. She turned her head. The man beside her was fast asleep, his face buried in the pillows. The dim light hid his features, but the sheer size of him sent a fresh wave of terror through her veins. Ignoring the tearing pain between her thighs, Ayleen crawled off the bed. She grabbed her torn uniform from the floor and pulled it over her shivering body. In her blind panic, she didn't feel the antique rose-carved necklace around her neck catch on the bedsheet's fringe. The silver chain snapped. It slipped away silently. Ayleen ran barefoot across the carpet. She bolted out of the bedroom, abandoned the cart, and fled through the front door. She sprinted down the hallway and threw herself into the service elevator. As the doors closed, she slid down the cold metal wall, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed until she couldn't breathe. She ran out the back exit of the club. Manhattan's torrential rain instantly soaked her to the bone. She flagged down a cab and vanished into the storm. Back in the VIP suite, Cassius frowned. The soothing warmth in his arms was gone. He snapped awake. He sat up and swept his hand across the sheets. They were cold. The woman who had given him silence was gone. Cassius threw off the covers. His dark eyes scanned the room. A glint of metal on the mattress caught his attention. He leaned over and picked up the antique rose-carved necklace. His gaze darkened, turning dangerous. He closed his fist around the metal. He walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and ripped the heavy curtains open. Harsh morning light hit his cold face. He picked up his phone and dialed his assistant's encrypted number. "Adrian," Cassius ordered, staring at the rain. "Lock down the club. Find the woman who was in my room last night. Tear the city apart if you have to."