When Love Testifies

Chapter Five Smoke and mirrors

Warning rated 18+ scene ahead you can skip if you’re not comfortable with it. Thank you

Marcus couldn’t shake the gnawing restlessness that clawed at his chest. The night at Club Aria had ended without what he came for—information, leverage, anything useful to push back against Malone. Instead, he walked away with nothing but questions and a simmering frustration that burned hotter with each hour. Malone had slipped the noose again, leaving only a bitter taste of unfinished business.

But Marcus wasn’t a man easily dismissed. He had left his mark that night—something Malone would never forget. A brutal reminder that Marcus wasn’t broken, wasn’t gone. The war between them was only beginning, and Marcus knew Malone felt it too.

Back home, the silence pressed down on him. He poured himself a drink, but the liquor didn’t dull the fire inside. His mind kept circling back to the girl who had pulled him from the brink—Maya. Her face flickered in his thoughts like a forbidden flame. The way she had looked at him, not with fear or judgment, but with something he couldn’t define. Gratitude? Curiosity? Maybe even care.

He hated how much he wanted to see her again. To hear her voice. To feel the warmth of her presence. She had become a ghost in his veins, haunting him at the worst possible time.

And that was when Vanessa came.

She slipped into his apartment like smoke, bold as ever. Vanessa wasn’t the kind of woman who asked permission—she took what she wanted. Her crimson dress clung to her like a second skin, her heels clicking against the hardwood as she crossed the room. She saw the drink in his hand, the storm in his eyes, and smiled knowingly.

“You look like a man who needs saving,” she whispered.

Marcus set the glass down with a dull thud. “I don’t need saving.”

“Then you need distraction.” She stepped closer, her perfume wrapping around him, heady and intoxicating. “Lucky for you, I’m very good at that.”

He should have pushed her away. He knew it. Vanessa was trouble dressed in silk, a poison that went down sweet. But he was tired of the gnawing emptiness, tired of Maya’s face searing through his thoughts. He wanted release, even if it came from the wrong hands.

When her lips found his, the dam broke.

Marcus pulled her in hard, crushing his mouth against hers with a hunger that bordered on violence. Vanessa melted into him, nails raking down his back, a gasp tearing from her throat as his hands roamed her body like a man starved. They stumbled backward, hitting the wall, then the couch, then the bedroom, every movement fueled by raw desperation.

Clothes hit the floor in a frantic trail. Skin burned against skin. The air filled with the sound of ragged breaths and low, guttural moans. Vanessa arched beneath him, her body surrendering to his every demand, every command.

But for Marcus, it wasn’t about tenderness. It was about drowning. Every kiss was a weapon, every touch a punishment. He drove into her with a ferocity that left no space for thought, only sensation. Her cries filled the room, sharp and wild, but his mind betrayed him at every peak—Maya’s face kept flashing before his eyes.

He wanted Vanessa’s body, but he wanted Maya’s soul.

The harder he pushed, the more he realized it. He wasn’t with Vanessa to feel alive—he was with her to forget. But forgetting was impossible. Maya had carved herself into him, and no amount of lust could erase her.

By the time the night ended, Vanessa lay sprawled across the sheets, a satisfied smile curling her lips. Marcus sat at the edge of the bed, chest heaving, drenched in sweat, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles burned white.

“You’ll think of me next time,” Vanessa teased, tracing her nails down his spine.

But she was wrong.

Because even as Marcus tried to steady his breathing, even as he tried to close his eyes, all he could see was Maya.

And it terrified him.