Power Games and Cracks
1049 Words
Selene wrapped her arms around Damon and kissed him hard. Hungry. Her mouth devoured his, her hands fitted into his hair. And while their lips were locked, her eyes, wide open, stared directly at Cassian.
It wasn’t affection.
It was a message.
Cassian backed out of the room. Quiet, composed, jaw-locked tight. He closed the door behind him, took a position outside. Said nothing.
But his chest felt like it was caving in.
Inside, Damon pulled back slightly, wiping his lips, breathing unevenly. "What the hell was that?"
Selene smirked and moved to the bar. "What was what?"
"You know what. That look you gave him."
She poured two glasses slowly. "I didn’t look at anyone."
"You stared at him like you wanted him to watch."
She turned, handed him a glass. "Maybe I did."
He chuckled darkly. "So, this new bodyguard of yours is a serious type. Loyal."
"Professional," she added. "And surprisingly attractive."
Damon took a slow sip. "Your type?"
She shrugged. "Maybe. Why? You jealous?"
He walked toward her, hand brushing her bare shoulder. "I don’t get jealous. Because I know exactly what you need. And you know where to find it."
His fingers slid to the nape of her neck, gently circling. "I understand you, Selene. Better than anyone."
She turned to face him, a sultry grin returning. "Then prove it."
He did.
Damon kissed her again, slower this time. Rougher. Hands on her hips, then on her waist, then up under the silk. She gasped against his mouth as he pulled the robe from her shoulders and spun her around, pressing her against the counter.
"Damon..."
He didn’t answer. Just slid a hand under the lace, touched skin he already knew like scripture.
She moaned, loudly. Not accidentally.
Outside, Cassian clenched his jaw, fists curled at his sides. Every sound that echoed through the door sent a pulse through him. A flush of something he couldn’t name and didn’t want to.
This was the job.
But this?
This wasn’t protocol. This was psychological warfare. She was testing him. Marking territory.
Inside, Selene arched into Damon’s touch, moaning louder now. Letting the sounds carry.
Damon slowed just enough to breathe. "You’re putting on a show for your new toy."
"Maybe," Selene whispered. "Let him hear what he can’t have."
He turned her, lifted her onto the marble counter.
Their bodies were tangled. Hands, mouths, everything urgent.
Outside, Cassian stared straight ahead.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move.
But he had never felt more humiliated. Or more human.
He thought of Lana.
Of her laugh. Of her smile that morning, coffee in hand.
He thought of vows.
Of lines.
And how they blurred in places like this.
Selene wasn’t seeking protection.
She was declaring war.
And the worst part was…
He didn’t know which one of them she was fighting harder:
Him or herself.
Cassian woke up the next morning before the sun. His body felt heavy, but his head wouldn't quiet.
Selene’s moans still echoed.
Loud. Brazen. Designed to haunt him.
He hated how they lingered. Hated that they made him feel anything at all. The shame clung to his skin like sweat. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to hear it. And if he were a better man, it wouldn’t have affected him.
But he wasn’t made of stone. Just discipline and choice. And both had limits.
He padded into the kitchen of the penthouse suite, the marble floor cool beneath his bare feet. The resort was quiet, too quiet. He poured himself black coffee, stared out at the sea, and reached for his phone.
No messages from Lana.
That hurt more than it should have.
He thumbed through the call log, hovered over her name. Thought twice. Then hit dial.
Lana was in the middle of buttoning her blouse when her phone buzzed.
Cassian.
She scrambled to grab it, holding the phone to her ear like it was made of glass.
“Hi, baby,” she said, breathless.
Cassian closed his eyes at the sound of her voice. Soft. Warm. Home.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No. I’ve got an early shift at NovaLux. Nico’s piling everything on, as usual.”
He smiled faintly. “Sounds like him.”
There was a pause. Not awkward. Just heavy. Weighted with the fact that they hadn’t spoken since he left.
“I miss you,” she said, her voice breaking just slightly.
His throat tightened. “I miss you too.”
They stayed like that for a moment. Breathing through the line. Imagining the other’s face.
“How’s the new client?” she asked gently, trying not to sound too interested.
He hesitated. “She’s… intense.”
“She?” Lana repeated, trying to keep her voice light.
“Selene Blackwood.”
The silence snapped tight.
“As in... Nico’s sister?”
Cassian sighed. “Yeah.”
Lana blinked at her reflection in the mirror. “Wow. I’ve heard about her. All the corporate gossip. But I’ve never actually met her.”
Cassian could feel the shift. The crack in her voice. He wanted to fix it, to reassure her. But before he could speak, a message lit up on his screen.
Selene: Come to my room.
He stared at it. Then he quietly said, “I’ve got to go. She needs me.”
Lana nodded to herself, even though she couldn’t see. “Okay. Talk later?”
“Promise.”
“I love you.”
He hesitated. “I love you too.”
She held the phone to her chest long after the call ended. The ache in her stomach wouldn’t leave.
She tried to brush it off. Tried to remind herself that Cassian was good. Loyal. Hers.
But she also knew what people said about Selene Blackwood. That she didn’t lose. That she never chased what she could simply take.
Cassian knocked once on Selene’s door. No answer.
He pushed it open.
And stopped.
She stood in front of the tall mirror, wrapped in red lace lingerie and a matching silk robe that clung to her hips like a second skin. Her dark hair spilled down her back in waves, and her skin glowed like she’d been kissed by the sun itself.
- Writer
