THE EDGE OF CONTROL

Here's Chapter 11, building on the tension and Mil

The night was far from over.

Viktor had left, his warning hanging in the air like a blade waiting to fall. Milan hadn't flinched—he had dismissed him, confident in his own investigation. But Chloe knew better than to feel safe. Viktor wasn't the kind of man to let go easily.

And yet, none of that mattered when Milan turned his gaze back to her.

"Come," he said simply.

She followed without question, her heartbeat steady despite the anticipation curling in her stomach. Milan led her down a dimly lit hallway, away from the noise of the underground world they had just left behind. The air grew heavier, charged with something unseen.

At the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door. The room inside was lavish yet intimate—dark wooden walls, low golden light, a bar stocked with aged whiskey. And in the center, a black leather couch, waiting.

Milan shut the door behind them, the click echoing in the quiet space.

Chloe turned to him, keeping her expression unreadable. "Are we celebrating something?"

Milan took a step forward, the space between them vanishing in an instant. "You chose well tonight," he murmured. "Loyalty over money. That tells me something about you."

She tilted her head, feigning curiosity. "And what does it tell you?"

His lips curved, but his eyes darkened. "That you understand the weight of debt. And that you don't fear consequences."

Chloe held his gaze, refusing to let him see the quickened rise and fall of her chest. "Should I?"

Milan reached up, fingers grazing her jaw. The touch was barely there, yet it sent a slow burn through her veins. "That depends," he murmured. "Are you ready for the ones that come with me?"

Her pulse betrayed her. He felt it—his thumb brushed against it, a silent acknowledgment of her reaction.

Slowly, he traced down her throat, to her collarbone, to the exposed skin just above the neckline of her dress. He wasn't in a hurry. Every movement was deliberate, calculated. A game of control.

Chloe knew she should pull away. She should remind herself of the mission, of the danger, of everything that made Milan an enemy. But she didn't.

She stayed.

Milan's hand slid lower, fingertips skimming the fabric of her dress, teasing the edge of something forbidden. His other hand settled at her waist, a slow, commanding pull as he guided her backward until the backs of her knees hit the couch.

He didn't push her down. He let the moment stretch, waiting for her to decide.

A challenge.

Chloe let herself sink onto the couch, watching him through half-lidded eyes. "And if I say yes?"

Milan exhaled a quiet laugh, dark and amused. "Then you learn."

He leaned in, one knee pressing between her legs, parting them just enough to steal the breath from her lips. His mouth hovered near hers—not touching, just close enough that the anticipation was unbearable.

Then, his fingers traced up her thigh, slow, agonizing. A featherlight touch that left her aching for more.

"You want me to test you, don't you?" His voice was low, seductive.

Chloe swallowed, her body betraying her as heat coiled deep inside her. She didn't answer, but Milan didn't need words.

His lips brushed against her jaw, then her throat—just enough to make her gasp. His teeth grazed her skin, a warning, a tease. His hands continued their slow exploration, never rushing, never giving too much.

Chloe's breathing turned uneven. He was unraveling her piece by piece, yet never giving her the satisfaction of losing herself completely.

Just when she thought he might push further, might finally give in to the tension suffocating the space between them—

He stopped.

Pulled back.

Left her on the edge, her body burning, her mind clouded.

Chloe opened her eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Milan stood before her, looking pleased—controlled. Unaffected.

"Not yet," he murmured, tilting her chin up with a single finger.

Chloe clenched her jaw, forcing herself to mask her frustration, to meet his gaze with steady resolve. "You like playing games, don't you?"

Milan smirked, stepping away completely. "I like knowing who's worth playing with."

He turned toward the bar, pouring himself a drink as if nothing had happened.

As if he hadn't just set her body on fire and walked away.

Chloe let out a slow breath, gathering herself before standing. She refused to let him see how much he had affected her.

If Milan wanted to test her, fine.

She'd play his game.

And she'd make damn sure she won.