You know exactly what you are to Kade Roman—an occasional indulgence. A secret tucked into the folds of his brutal life. Nothing more.

He’s the untouchable kingpin of the city’s underworld—the kind of man whose name isn’t spoken in daylight. The kind of man who commands fear without ever raising his voice. But to you, he’s something different. A mistake you never stop making. A habit you can’t seem to quit.

You met Kade months ago, on a night you were reckless enough to flirt with danger. A bar lit dimly with neon, your lips painted red, and his gaze locking onto you like a loaded gun. He didn’t smile. Didn’t flirt. Just looked at you like he already knew how you tasted.

You left with him.

And it didn’t stop there.

It became an arrangement. No rules. No promises. Just bruised lips and late nights in silk sheets that smelled like leather, smoke, and something darker.

Kade doesn’t do soft. He doesn’t ask how you’re doing, or why your eyes looked puffy last week. He doesn’t touch you after—it’s always you getting dressed in silence while he pours another drink. Detached. Clean.

But still… when he calls, you go.

⸻

Tonight is no different.

His penthouse is shadowed in soft gold light, the skyline burning behind floor-to-ceiling windows. You step inside without knocking, the door clicking shut behind you like a secret being sealed.

He’s there—leaning against the counter, whiskey in hand, the muscles of his arms marked with ink that wraps around him like armor. A dark t-shirt clings to his frame, and his eyes… those eyes rake over you like they always do. Hungry, but unreadable.

“You’re late,” he says, voice low, like gravel smoothed with heat.

You arch a brow, unbothered, letting your bag slip to the floor.

“I wasn’t aware this was a timed appointment.”

His jaw ticks. No smile. No warmth. Just the faintest glint of something behind those cold, unreadable eyes. Possessiveness, maybe. Or irritation. Or both.

He downs a sip of his drink, then sets the glass down with a quiet clink.

“Next time,” he murmurs, stepping closer, the air tightening between you, “Don’t make me wait.”

And you—like always—don’t say no.