Ten Nights With My Ex

The rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Moretti Tower, blurring the New York City skyline into a mess of grey and neon.

Inside, the silence was heavy. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

"Please, Dante. Just listen to me for one second."

Sienna Blackwood stood in the center of the office, her heels digging into the plush carpet. She felt small. Every piece of furniture in this room was designed to make a person feel insignificant.

Especially the man sitting behind the mahogany desk.

Dante Moretti didn't look up. He was signing a stack of documents with a heavy fountain pen. The scratching of the nib was the only sound in the room.

He looked exactly like the tabloids described him: The Ice King. His dark hair was swept back perfectly, and his suit cost more than Sienna's entire college tuition.

"You have thirty seconds, Sienna," he said. His voice was a low, melodic growl that made the hair on her arms stand up. "And ten of them have already passed."

Sienna took a shaky breath. "Julian didn't mean to do it. The investment went south. He thought he could move the funds back before anyone noticed.

If you file those charges tomorrow, he'll go to prison for twenty years. Our father's heart won't take that. Please, settle out of court. We will pay you back every cent."

Dante finally looked up. His eyes were a piercing, cold grey. They stripped her bare, cataloging her fear, her desperation, and the way her pulse was jumping in her neck.

"With what money?" Dante leaned back, crossing his arms. "Your brother didn't just lose my ten million. He gambled away your family's remaining assets to cover his tracks.

The Blackwood name is a hollow shell, Sienna. You're broke."

The truth hit her like a physical blow. She knew things were bad, but she didn't know they were gone. Her stomach lurched.

"I didn't know," she whispered.

"Of course you didn't. Julian was too busy playing the big shot while he dragged you into the dirt with him." Dante stood up.

He was tall, well over six feet, and he moved with the predatory grace of a panther. He walked around the desk, stopping just inches from her.

The scent of sandalwood and expensive whiskey hit her. It was masculine and overwhelming. Sienna wanted to step back, but her legs wouldn't move. She was trapped in his orbit.

"I don't want your family's money, Sienna. I have plenty of my own," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

"Then what do you want? Why did you agree to see me?"

Dante reached out. His fingers were warm as he tucked a stray lock of her damp hair behind her ear. The touch sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core, a feeling she hated herself for having.

This man was her brother's enemy. He was the man who had spent five years trying to crush them.

"I want the only thing the Blackwoods have left that's worth anything," he murmured. His gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, to the curve of her throat. "I want you."

Sienna felt her face heat up. "I'm not a piece of property, Dante."

"No. You're a beautiful woman who is very, very desperate." He stepped even closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to look at him. "Here is my offer. One week. Seven nights. You move into my penthouse tonight.

You do exactly what I say, when I say it. You give me total access to your body, your time, and your obedience."

Sienna's breath hitched. "And the lawsuit?"

"The moment the seventh night is over, I sign the papers dropping all charges. Julian walks free. Your father never has to know his son is a thief.

But for those seven nights, you belong to me. You aren't a Blackwood. You're mine."

The room felt like it was spinning. This was insane. It was archaic and disgusting. But as she looked into Dante's eyes, she didn't see disgust. she saw a hunger so deep it frightened her.

And underneath that hunger was a dark, simmering secret she couldn't quite read.

"Why me?" she managed to ask. "You could have any woman in this city. Models. Actresses. Why go through all this for me?"

Dante's expression hardened. A flicker of something that looked like old, bitter pain crossed his face before the mask of ice returned.

"Because Julian loves you," Dante said, his voice cold again. "He's spent his whole life taking things from me. This time, I'm taking the one thing he actually cares about.

I want to see his face when he realizes I've had you in my bed for a week."

The cruelty of it stung. She was just a tool for his revenge. A trophy to be used and discarded.

"You're a monster," she spat.

Dante didn't flinch. He walked over to a side table and poured a glass of amber liquid. "Maybe. But I'm the monster who can keep your brother out of a cage. The clock is ticking, Sienna. It's eight o'clock.

If you aren't at my front door by midnight with a suitcase, the deal is off. And I'll make sure Julian is in handcuffs by breakfast."

Sienna looked at him, her heart thundering. She thought of her father, whose health was failing. She thought of the shame that would destroy their legacy.

Then she thought of Dante's hands on her, and a traitorous shiver ran down her spine.

"Seven nights," she whispered. "That's all?"

"Seven nights of total surrender," he corrected. "I want every inch of you, Sienna. No holdouts. No fake headaches. You come to me willingly, or not at all."

He took a slow sip of his drink, watching her over the rim of the glass. He was so sure of himself. He knew she had no choice.

Sienna straightened her shoulders. She felt like she was walking toward a guillotine, but she had to do it. For her father. For the family name.