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"I have a hundred methods to end a life, and I can make ninety of them look like an accident," he whispers, the blade shimmering in the dim light, his breath warm against her skin. "So go ahead, challenge me if you're brave enough," he taunts, his gaze piercing down at her, eyes glowing a menacing red. Before she can react, he presses his lips forcefully against hers. Safiya Khan, a respected Muslim psychologist at a local clinic, endures a tumultuous marriage with her husband Malik, who treats her poorly and resorts to violence. She tolerates his abuse, not out of faith or devotion to Allah, but because she fears the devastation that leaving him would bring to her life. Everything changes when she is hired by Elena Rosetti of the illustrious Rosetti family, the wealthiest family in New York. Her role as the family psychologist is particularly focused on their eldest son, Alessio, the notorious mafia boss of the Infernal Syndicate, known for his volatile and unstable nature. Safiya is tasked with conducting therapy sessions for the entire family, but Alessio is her primary concern. Upon meeting Alessio, an undeniable attraction sparks between them, yet she strives to maintain her professionalism. Unbeknownst to her, Alessio and his family are far from ordinary; they belong to a hidden world of supernatural beings that coexist with humans in secrecy. As their relationship spirals into chaos, Alessio becomes dangerously obsessed with her, while she finds herself irresistibly drawn to him, unaware that her connection with this enigmatic client could lead to her own downfall.
Chapter 1 The Morning After
CHAPTER ONE
SAFIYA
"Ugh," I groaned as I blinked awake, the harsh light flooding the room and forcing me to slam my head back onto the pillow. When did I even open the bedroom window? I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, waiting for them to adjust to the brightness. As I finally opened them, a few unsettling details struck me: the absence of my alarm clock on the bedside table, the unfamiliar wall colors, the room's vastness unsettled me.
"Where the hell am I?" I muttered, scanning the space. My clothes were haphazardly scattered across the floor. Panic gripped me as I noticed numerous used condoms littering the ground, each one filled. Wait! What are condoms doing there, Malik wasn't back yet? And even if he was, he doesn't use latex with me.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. What have I done? My eyes widened, and my stomach plummeted. Glancing down at my naked body, I spread my thighs to inspect myself. My pussy was flushed and looked well-used, but thankfully, there was no evidence of cum dripping from me, which eased my panic just a bit, until it surged back.
I took a deep, shaky breath and slowly turned to the other side of the bed. Relief washed over me, so intense that tears pricked my eyes. I didn't stop to question why the person I assumed I had a one-night stand with wasn't there, nor did I ponder how I had broken my own rule. Instead, I jumped out of bed, the sheets pooling around my feet.
Hurrying to grab my panties, I bent down, and a flood of memories surged through my mind: pressed against the wall, kissed by a massive man. Just as suddenly as it appeared, the memory faded, leaving me gasping, my heart pounding. Shaking my head to clear the confusion, I slipped on my panties and reached for my bra. What on earth had happened to me? I had always been the responsible one, the one who never let loose.
"Where the hell is it?" I muttered under my breath, my eyes darting around in frantic search of my clothes. I scoured the floor but found no sign of it. I couldn't even remember what I had worn last night.My gaze shifted to the bed, where I rummaged through the scattered items. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted it hanging from the bed frame.
How had I missed that? I couldn't quite fathom it, but without wasting another moment, I pulled the crop shirt over my head and adjusted my skirt. The fabric clung tightly to my body, so short and revealing that I was bewildered by how I had even managed to put it on. When did I acquire such daring clothes? My mind raced with confusion, grappling with the unsettling reality that I couldn't recall anything from the night before.
My phone and keys rested on the nightstand. A sigh of relief escaped me when I realized that at least they weren't hard to find. However, my gaze fell back upon the condoms strewn about, nearly eight of them. A wave of shame washed over me as I wondered what had come over me. When did I become so reckless?
I stared at the condoms for a moment, torn between the urge to clean up the mess and the temptation to pretend it never happened. But ignoring reality wasn't an option; the evidence of my indiscretion was undeniable. My body felt achy in a way that was both pleasurable and irritating, and I could feel a pulsing sensation in my core that wouldn't let me forget.
"Just leave it and move on," I whispered to myself, but I shook my head, compelled to confront the mess. I approached the nearest condom, fighting the urge to gag, and turned my gaze away as I picked it up. With a deep breath, I carried it to the trash bin and tossed it in. I repeated this process for each one until I reached the final condom. As I lifted the last one, another memory crashed over me like a wave, drowning me in embarrassment and desire.
I was lying on the bed, my legs resting on broad shoulders, staring into a masked face. His large hand grasped my left breast, completely covering it, while his other hand tweaked my other nipple. I moaned, utterly lost in the moment as he thrust into me over and over again. Then he spoke in a deep voice that came out as a growl.
"From now on, I'm the only one allowed to enter this pussy." He emphasized every word with a thrust, and I nodded, but he shook his head. "Use your words, Amore," he hissed, slamming into me. I gasped, tears flowing down my cheeks, was it pain or pleasure? Maybe both; I wasn't really sure.
"Yes, yes, it's all yours," I said, moaning deliriously. He smirked before resuming his relentless pounding. Just like that, the vivid memory faded, leaving me standing by the trash bin, trembling, my corel dripping wet from that abomination. I tossed the condom into the bin, questioning my own actions. Was I truly that eager for a distraction?I shook my head, tears hitting the back of my eyes as I turned away from the trash bin.
I couldn't recall how I exited the strange unfamiliar house; one moment I was there, and the next, I found myself in a taxi. Before I knew it, I was being dropped off in front of my house, with no memory of paying the driver. I didn't even remember how I got inside; I simply collapsed onto the couch in the living room, staring blankly at the ceiling.
I laid there, heart racing, fragments of the night flooding back in blurry images. My mind swirled with questions. What had I done? How had I let myself slip so far from the responsible person I used to be? And who was that masked man, anyway? I wrapped my arms around myself, seeking comfort amidst the chaos of my thoughts.
Suddenly, a voice cut through my reverie, sending a shiver down my spine. I turned around to see him. "Where the hell are you coming from?"
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