The goodbye at Mom’s was a tapestry of soft touches and lingering glances. A kiss on Mom’s forehead, a promise in her eyes. A hug for Sarah, a whispered tease for Emma. Then, I was in the AMG One, the engine’s growl a solitary sound in the twilight, carrying me back to the heart of my empire.
At 8 p.m. on the dot, the heavy gates of the estate groaned open, recognizing their master. I guided the car into its sanctum, the purr dying into a satisfied silence. Stepping out, the night air was cool, but the light spilling from the main house was warm, alive with laughter and the clink of cutlery.
I found them in the grand dining room, a scene of vibrant chaos. Soo-Jin was placing the final dish on the long table, her movements precise. But my entrance stilled the room for a heartbeat.
Then, a wave of warmth hit me. I moved around the table, greeting each of my women with a kiss—a brush of lips on Vivienne’s cheek, a deeper, more promising kiss for Amanda, a gentle press against Luna’s forehead.
And then there was Anastasia.
By the way, this woman was different. She is of a line of Tsars, Master. A princess in exile, her dignity a shield.
But that shield was gone now, replaced by a palpable, almost vibrating aura of devotion. It wasn’t just excitement for the work we would do. It was the sight of me. Her eyes, a striking Siberian blue, held a light I had ignited, a look of pure, unabashed love that transformed her noble features into something soft and vulnerable.
I cupped her face, my thumb stroking her cheek, and her eyes fluttered closed as if in prayer.
Each woman here was a universe I had unlocked, a mystery whose secrets I now held. To unravel them all would be a lifetime’s work.
I took my seat between Amanda and Vivienne, the natural center of their orbit. Margaret sat across from me, holding court. It was fascinating to watch.
Apart from Janet and Luna, these women had known each other for years, a circle of mature elegance. And Margaret was their undisputed queen. Yet, since the kidnapping, a shadow clung to her.
The fun, flirty MILF I’d first encountered in Miami, the one with a wicked grin and a daring spark, had been muted.
The trauma was a veil over her vibrancy.
I wanted to help her, to pull that veil away. But I’d been consumed by other fires. Tonight, the hungry looks from the others—Vivienne’s sly smile, Amanda’s predatory gaze—told me this dinner would not last long.
But if it ended early, my path was clear. I would go to the guest house.
I would sit with Margaret. I would try to coax the real her back to the surface, to convince her that safety and joy waited here, in the main house, with us.
I watched her laugh at something Amanda said, a genuine but weary sound. Without even realizing it, I had woven both her and Charlotte into the fabric of this new family.
Charlotte, who had confessed her world was a lonely loop of work and strained conversations with her mother, now had a constellation of women around her. Margaret, whose friends were an ocean away, now had Amanda as a constant temptation and the rest as a lively court.
With them here, her loneliness was banished.
As the conversation flowed around me, I caught Margaret’s eye. I gave her a slow, deliberate smile, one that promised more than conversation. A message passed between us, silent and clear.
’I see your pain,’ the smile said. ’And I see the fierce woman behind it. Your daughter needs time to heal, and I will give her that. But you... you are ready. And when you are whole again, I will fuck you so thoroughly, so brilliantly, that I will rock the very foundations of the world you’ve built. I will make you remember what it is to feel alive. But above all, I will take care of you both.’
She held my gaze for a moment, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, before looking down at her wine glass with a small, almost imperceptible smile. The connection was made. The game was afoot on all fronts.
After dinner, my phone lit up with Madison’s name.
Finally. The prodigal queen deigned to contact me.


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