Page 135 of Fatality

It’s better when she is compliant.

A dark part of me wants to silence her forever, yet the chaos she brings into my life—and the way she refuses to submit—is fucking addictive.

I drag my gaze over her unconscious form until it drops to her chest.

There's a tattoo there, I wonder what the fuck it's for.

My fingers brush lightly over the ink before I even think better of it.

The design is magnificent—gothic, cybernetic, somehow perfectly suited to her and this fucking city. And the placement is... Distracting.

Fucking hot.

The realization hits me a second too late.

I yank my hand back like I've been burned, my jaw clenching.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Then I notice a problem—one that makes reluctantly my cock ache.

One of her breasts is exposed, probably from when I put her in it.

They're fucking beautiful.

Her skin looks smooth, flawless.

“Fuck.”

My mouth goes dry. I lick my lips, my fingers twitching as I fight the urge to put it in my mouth.

I don’t linger—if I do, I’ll fuck her right here, unconscious.

I slam the trunk shut with a metallic thud that echoes off the surrounding buildings, then round the front of the car.

I slide into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life with a hungry growl. My hands clamp around the wheel, knuckles white with the effort it takes to keep my body under control.

She's making it harder to remember that I'm supposed to fucking hate her.

She thinks I'm the monster. She has no fucking idea that every time she fights back, she only feeds it. And one day, she's going to find out exactly what she's been feeding.

I drive like I live—fast, aggressive, with zero regard for the system’s safety parameters.

I push the engine hard, weaving through congested traffic with lethal precision.

My hands move across the wheel with practiced fluidity, every gear shift sending another jolt of power through the car as it tears through Kairo-9’s neon-lit maze.

My jaw is set tight, muscles jumping in my cheek.

Every time I glance in the rearview mirror, I’m checking two things—the traffic behind for any pursuing security drones.

The city changes as I descend into the Lower Layers.

The clean streets and polished towers slowly fade into the distance, replaced by the real shit.

The buildings are older here.

Dirtier, less pristine.