LUST WEARS A MASK

The flash drive burned in Ava's hands—not literally, but with the heat of truths capable of toppling empires. She and Kai had the leverage now. What they didn't have… was time.

The morning after the gala, Kai sat shirtless at the head of the dining table, maps and encrypted messages scattered like battle plans. Ava, still draped in silk from the night before, paced the floor barefoot, her mind sprinting laps around every possible scenario.

"This video?" she said, waving the drive. "It's enough to bury Lucien under his own secrets."

Kai didn't look up. "He won't go down quietly. You know that."

"I want him to scream."

He finally looked at her. "Good. Then we make him."

They called a meeting with Kai's inner circle. The room filled with men and women hardened by survival, each one handpicked by Kai over the years. Ava studied their faces: loyal, cold, disciplined. But beneath the surface—fear. Even they knew crossing Lucien was like poking a viper.

Jax stood beside Kai, his expression unreadable.

"We expose the video through a controlled leak," Kai said. "But not just online. It hits the financial sector, political feeds, and private chat channels—all at once."

Ava nodded. "Lucien can't spin a story if everyone already knows the ending."

The team dispersed, but Ava stayed behind.

Kai watched her. "You don't sleep anymore."

"Can't afford to."

"You're not the only one haunted, Ava."

She looked at him then. "I know. That's why I haven't left."

He stood, came to her, wrapped an arm around her waist. "You're not going to."

Their kiss wasn't soft—it was violent, desperate. They tore into each other like the world was ending.

And maybe, for someone, it was.

Two days later, the leak dropped. It was a masterstroke. Every device buzzed. Every boardroom gasped. The video was impossible to ignore—Lucien, half-dressed, compromising his own empire.

Within hours, investors pulled out. Allies distanced themselves. Threats flew from all corners.

And then… silence.

That night, the silence broke.

Their penthouse was breached.

Ava woke to the sound of glass shattering. She grabbed the gun under her pillow, rolled out of bed. Kai was already on his feet, shirtless, blade in one hand, pistol in the other.

Four men stormed in—Lucien's elite. Trained assassins.

Gunfire erupted. Bullets tore through furniture. Ava ducked behind the marble bar, popped up to shoot. One down. Two.

Kai moved like smoke and lightning. Precision. Brutality. A man fell with his throat opened wide.

The last one went for Ava, knife flashing—she ducked, kicked him hard, then fired into his gut.

Blood pooled. Silence again.

Then a laugh.

Ava's heart dropped.

Lucien's voice echoed through a tiny speaker clipped to one of the dead men's collars.

"Well played," he said. "But did you think I'd fall alone?"

The apartment exploded into darkness.

Everything went black.

They woke in a safehouse. Jax had pulled them out just in time. Their real penthouse was now ash.

"Lucien wants war," Ava said.

Kai cracked his neck. "Then he'll get it."

The next phase wasn't a plan—it was retaliation.

Ava and Kai began striking down every one of Lucien's holdings: his tech subsidiaries, arms deals, cyber networks. Every night, they brought something to its knees.

And every night, they made love like it might be their last. Their bodies burned hotter the closer they got to the edge.

But with each victory, Ava could feel something inside her shifting. She wasn't just fighting for revenge anymore.

She was fighting for him.

And it terrified her.

Lucien finally retaliated with a move that changed everything.

He kidnapped someone from Ava's past. Her sister—someone she thought was dead.

Kai saw the news alert first.

Ava dropped the glass in her hand. "He knows about her?"

"He knows everything now."

That night, they didn't speak much.

But they didn't sleep either.

Their bodies tangled again, desperate and fierce. Ava clung to him like she could absorb his strength. And he let her.

Because they both knew what came next wasn't war.

It was personal.

And the mask of lust they wore… was starting to crack.