CHAPTER 1: JUST A WHORE
Matteo’s heavy body was still draped over her back when he finally spoke, voice rough and satisfied, mouth close to her ear.
“Fuck… look at you.” His hand slid between her thighs from behind, two thick fingers pushing into the wet mess he’d left inside her. Lila flinched at the oversensitive stretch. “Still so goddamn tight. And soaked. You came all over my cock like a good little whore.” He pumped his fingers slowly, listening to the filthy sound. “I’m gonna keep fucking this pretty cunt until it stays open for me. Until you can’t even close your legs without feeling empty.”
He pulled his fingers out and smeared the slickness over her clit, then higher, across the curve of her ass. “Debt like you doesn’t get to stay tight forever. I’m going to ruin you properly.”
Dante moved next.
He had been quiet the whole time, watching with those cold, dark eyes. Now he sat up, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hand came down hard on her breast—no softness, just a rough, painful squeeze that made her gasp. He rolled her nipple between his fingers until it stung, then pinched harder.
“Still sensitive,” he murmured, almost to himself. He gave her other breast the same treatment, groping her like he was checking merchandise. When he finally let go, the skin was flushed and aching. He stood without another word, already reaching for his shirt. The tattoos on his chest and arms flexed as he pulled the black fabric over them. Controlled. Detached. Like the last hour had been nothing more than a transaction.
Enzo was the last to leave the bed.
He leaned over her, dark hair falling into his eyes, and took one of her sore nipples into his mouth. Then he bit down—hard enough that Lila cried out, back arching. He didn’t let go right away. He held the sting between his teeth for a long second before releasing her with a soft, almost gentle kiss over the mark he’d left.
“There,” he said quietly. “Something to remember us by while we’re gone.”
They dressed in silence after that. The sound of belts buckling, shirts being buttoned, the quiet clink of watches being slipped back on. Lila stayed exactly where they had left her—face down on the ruined sheets, thighs sticky, body marked and sore. Every small shift made her wince. Her breasts throbbed where Dante had handled them. Her nipple still pulsed from Enzo’s teeth. Between her legs she felt open and used.
Matteo glanced at her once while knotting his tie. A slow, dirty smirk tugged at his mouth.
“Don’t clean up,” he said. “I want to smell us on you when we get back.”
Dante didn’t look at her at all as he adjusted his cuffs. “Stay in the room. There’s food in the kitchen if you get hungry. Don’t leave the penthouse.”
Enzo paused at the foot of the bed. His eyes moved over her naked body—the bruises already forming on her hips, the come drying on her thighs, the way her fingers had curled weakly into the sheets. Something unreadable flickered across his face. Then it was gone.
“Be good, little debt,” he said softly. “We’ll be home later.”
The door closed behind them with a soft, final click.
Lila didn’t move for a long time.
The city still glittered beyond the rain-streaked windows. The sheets smelled like sex and expensive cologne. Her body ached in places she hadn’t known could ache. And somewhere under the soreness and the humiliation, something hotter and more dangerous was starting to pulse.
They had used her.
Reminded her what she was.
And left her here like something they already owned.
She closed her eyes and whispered the truth into the quiet room, just to hear it out loud.
“I’m just a whore.”
The words tasted like surrender.
Somewhere across the city, three Blackwood brothers were already discussing the next time they would come home and remind her all over again.
