Two

“Sir Diego!” I gasped, my throat tightening as the words tumbled out.

My eyes widened in disbelief.

My sister’s husband?!

What the hell was he doing here?

Instinctively, I wrapped my arms across my chest, shielding my bare breasts, but it barely covered anything. Panic rushed through me in hot waves.

I staggered back until my spine hit the cold door. My heart thudded violently in my chest, like it was trying to escape.

Diego. My sister’s husband. The billionaire she secretly married after our father was sent to a mental asylum.

She told him her entire family had died tragically.

But we only discovered the truth after the wedding.

Mum called and called, desperate to reach her, but it was too late. He had flown her out of the country, and from that day, she cut off all contact.

No calls. No messages. Just silence for years.

And now, here he was, in a strip club’s VIP room, with me.

I trembled.

“W-where is my sister?” I stammered, eyes downcast, arms clinging desperately to my chest. My skin burned with shame.

This couldn’t be happening.

I heard his slow, confident footsteps draw near, each one heavy with control and command.

His expensive cologne filled the air, sharp, bold… masculine. It wrapped around me like a noose.

I kept my head low, trembling beneath his towering presence.

Then, he stopped. Right in front of me.

His hands stayed calmly in his pockets, his body radiating power.

Slowly, I tilted my head up…

And froze.

Those piercing icy blue eyes, so sharp, so dangerous, locked onto mine. He parted his lips, his voice cold and smooth like cut glass.

“You still have your underwear on.”

My breath hitched.

What?!

Did he just…

Does he actually want to sleep with me?

Does he even know who I am?

Surely he’s mistaking me for someone else, right?

I clutched my body tighter, my voice shaky. “Sir… I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m Lyla. Ellie’s younger sister.”

He didn’t flinch.

A cold chuckle escaped his lips, and it chilled me to the bone.

“I know who you are, Lyla,” he said flatly.

“You’re Ellie’s sister.”

My heart stopped.

So… he knew.

He knew exactly who I was.

I stared at him, frozen. “Sir… I don’t understand. I—”

“Lyla,” he cut in, voice low but commanding, “I don’t have time for games. Strip.”

I blinked, stunned.

“What do you mean?” I whispered, feeling my stomach twist into knots. “You’re my sister’s husband. Why are you asking me to do this? This… this isn’t right.”

It didn’t even sound real.

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

I wasn’t just standing in front of a VIP client anymore.

I was standing in front of the man who married into my family, the man who ripped my sister from our lives.

And now he wanted me?

But his expression didn’t shift.

Still dark. Still unreadable.

His eyes burned into me with silent, unwavering intent.

He was serious, dead serious.

His lips curved into a cold smirk as he undressed, sliding off his suit jacket and tossing it carelessly onto the couch. Now left in a fitted black sleeve shirt, he slowly began unbuttoning it halfway down, revealing the dark ink of a tattoo carved across his chest.

I could swear my heart skipped a beat.

His black hair fell lazily over one side of his face, shadowing his sharp jawline. Calm and deliberate, he rolled his sleeves up, exposing strong, veined forearms.

“I already paid,” he said, his voice like gravel and ice. “I own you for the night… there's no going back.”

His words sent a cold shiver down my spine, splintering every piece of me from the inside. Tears welled at the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall.

God… why didn’t I ask? Why didn’t I check who the client was?

In one swift motion, he lifted me off the floor and placed me gently on the bed. My heart raced in panic, thumping wildly in my chest as my breath grew shallow.

“Please… Sir Diego,” I whispered, voice trembling, lungs tightening with anxiety. “I can’t do this… You’re my sister’s husband. What if she finds out?”

He hovered between my legs, and I froze, overwhelmed, confused, and terrified, as the weight of the moment pressed down on me like a storm I couldn’t escape.

He leaned forward, his breath hot against my face, and whispered in my ear, "You are mine tonight. I know I'm married to your sister, but it's you I want."

His words sent chills down my spine.

Suddenly, he traced his hand toward my left breast and squeezed it.

A moan escaped my lips. I tried once again to break free from his hold, but he pinned both my hands to the bed, causing my full, heaving breasts to rise toward the ceiling.

Panic set in as his eyes stared hungrily at my chest. Then, he leaned forward and gently kissed my nipples.

My whole body felt electrified, my toes curling tightly against the bed.

He didn’t stop. This time, he sucked my breast one hand pinning me down, the other squeezing my left nipple.

Then, suddenly, he released his grip and stood up.

Confused, I sat up too, my heart beating in an uneven rhythm.

What was he up to?

Slowly, he slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pink, egg-shaped object. His lips curved into a sly grin as he tossed it toward me.

My eyes widened. What is this...?

I caught the strange item and stared at it, puzzled, until I heard his chilling command.

"Pleasure yourself with that toy. Now. I don't have time to waste."

My whole body froze.

Wait what? This must be a joke!