“Next time you receive instructions from me,” he continues, his voice a husky rumble against my skin, “you will follow them to the letter… or you might find yourself on stage at the next gala, wearing nothing at all.” His breath is warm, but his words are ice. “Am I clear?”
He reaches down to the hip slit of my dress and pulls it aside just far enough to reveal the plain white edge of my panties. His fingers in such an intimate place make me feel hot and frozen all at once.
His face twists in irritable disgust when he sees proof of my defiance.
Then his hand retracts. Lukas straightens up. He looks at the driver and gives a single nod.
He shuts the door, and just like that, the strangest night of my life comes to a swift and merciless end.
Structure to be Demolished: Father/Son Bond
