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We were toxic as hell. But so damn good in bed. That’s why I’ve got a dominatrix girlfriend now...or at least she tries to dominate me.

I know I’m not supposed to say this but… Sophia? She’s boring. Polished? Yes. Poised? Always. But dangerous? Come on. That’s branding, not reality.

Give me a woman who bleeds when she bites back. Give me someone messy, unpredictable, real.

You really think Sophia is boring?

She’s the quietest detonation on that jet. You don’t hear it until the cabin’s already cracked.

You’re out here begging for messy when the most dangerous woman in the story hides the blade behind a five-star smile and a perfectly poured glass of champagne.

Valentina’s chaos? Obvious. Davika’s destruction? Broadcasted.

But Sophia? She’ll fuck you, ruin you, and rebook your return flight— —all before you realize your panties were taken as a souvenir.

Amira knew it. Valentina felt it.

I was freaking out so I meditated. Okay fine — whiskey and melatonin first. 🙄

At first it was calm. Quiet.

And then I saw her face.

Of course it was Valentina. That beautiful smug face that needs to be slapped.

Like ma’am, did you just breach my theta state with your smug little smirk?? What kind of Silicon Valley sorcery is this?

She didn’t knock. She didn’t even fade in gently. She just appeared like, “Hey babe, remember that thing you repressed? I’m the thing.”

Honestly I thought I was being haunted. Turns out I’m just being out-alpha’d on the astral plane by a woman who wears heels in my subconscious.

She stared at me like I was a stranger. Like she didn’t know how many nights I screamed her name.

I made a housecall like it was 2005. Yes, it could've been remote. Her Laptop issue wasn't even a big deal. But have you ever tried resisting a woman with legs like that… pacing… scheming?