Chapter 1 - Awakening in the Lion's Den
Gunther did not wake her.
For a man who had built an empire on ruthlessness, the decision defied all logic.
He stood in the dark for a long time, watching the steady rise and fall of the maid’s chest.
He should have been furious about the intrusion into his private sanctuary.
Instead, a strange, heavy exhaustion washed over him, completely replacing his anger.
He did not want to hear her scream.
He did not want to see the terror in her eyes when she realized whose bed she was sleeping in.
Gunther slowly backed away from the mattress and moved toward the leather armchair in the corner of the room.
He sat down, resting his loaded weapon on the side table.
He unlaced his expensive Italian shoes and placed them quietly on the rug.
He leaned his head back against the leather and closed his eyes.
For the first time in ten years, Gunther Woods slept in the same room as another human being without keeping one eye open.
The morning sun pierced through the sheer curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the Egyptian cotton sheets.
Kayla stirred slowly, her aching muscles protesting the movement.
She stretched her legs, feeling the impossible softness of the mattress beneath her.
Her brain was still clouded with sleep, entirely disconnected from reality.
Then, she smelled the faint scent of cedar and bergamot.
Kayla’s eyes snapped open.
She stared at the unfamiliar charcoal-colored ceiling.
Panic hit her chest like a physical blow, stealing the breath from her lungs.
She shot up into a sitting position, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
This was the master suite.
She had fallen asleep in the bed of the most dangerous man in the city.
Kayla scrambled backward, tangling her legs in the heavy duvet.
She fell off the edge of the mattress, landing hard on the plush white carpet.
She gasped for air, her wide eyes darting around the room in sheer terror.
That was when she saw him.
Gunther Woods was sitting in the leather armchair, holding a crystal glass of amber liquid.
He was already dressed in a fresh white button-down shirt and dark trousers.
His cold, calculating eyes were locked directly on her.
Kayla stopped breathing completely.
She scrambled to her knees, keeping her head bowed in absolute submission.
"I am so sorry," Kayla whispered, her voice trembling violently.
"Please, Mr. Woods, I did not mean to."
"I was so tired, the room spun, and I just sat down for a second."
"Please do not hurt me."
Gunther watched her tremble on the floor.
He hated the fear radiating from her fragile body.
He took a slow sip of his bourbon.
"What is your name?" Gunther asked, his voice a low, smooth baritone.
"Kayla," she choked out.
"Kayla Hughes."
"Get up, Kayla," he commanded softly.
She slowly pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaking so badly she could barely stand.
She expected him to call his men to drag her away.
Instead, a sharp, angry knock echoed from the heavy oak door.
"Mr. Woods?" the harsh voice of Mrs. Gable called out from the hallway.
"I noticed the cleaning cart outside."
"Did one of the girls leave it here?"
Kayla squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the executioner to open the door.
Gunther stood up, walked past Kayla, and cracked the door open just a few inches.
"The cart is mine, Mrs. Gable," Gunther lied effortlessly.
"I had the maid bring me some items early this morning."
"She is currently taking care of a private task for me."
"Do not disturb this wing of the house for the rest of the day."
Mrs. Gable stammered a quick apology, her footsteps echoing as she hurried away.
Gunther closed the door and locked the deadbolt.
He turned back to face the terrified girl standing in the middle of his bedroom.
May you like
"Sit down, Kayla," he said, gesturing toward the edge of the bed.
"We need to have a conversation."
