Knew her intentions...

As Tryson sprawled on the couch, his broad frame nearly swallowing it whole, his gaze drifted from the ceiling to the emptiness around him.

His mind buzzed, thoughts tangling like a storm he couldn't escape.

Riley had found him. She had followed him—tracked him down with a precision that sent a shiver down his spine.

There was no way this was a coincidence.

No, she was up to something.

He felt it in his gut. And after what he had done?

Oh, he knew she was furious. Burning with the kind of anger that didn't just fade—it simmered, waiting to explode.

But that was the plan, wasn't it?

To push him, corner him, make him crawl back to her, pleading for mercy.

And in that surrender, she would claim him the way she always did—demanding that he worship her, body and soul, until her hunger was satisfied.

A small, frustrated scowl settled on his face as the weight of the situation pressed down on him.