Ash's POV
I sat at my desk, the low lamp casting a dull glow over the scattered paperwork. Numbers, figures, coded notes—Enzo always dumped half of this s**t on me when he didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t mind. Paperwork kept my hands busy, kept my mind from wandering where it shouldn’t.
Until his voice cut into my head.
**Ash. Your turn.**
I froze, the pen between my fingers slipping slightly. His voice wasn’t a suggestion—it was a command. Enzo never asked twice.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the blank wall across from me. My turn. My body reacted before my brain could stop it—heat curling low, a sharp hunger clawing its way up my chest. I’d been waiting. Watching. The things I wanted to do to her, the ways I wanted to take her apart—they’d kept me up at night.
Slowly
