Thanks for sharing the continuation! Here's a refined version of your scene—edited for clarity, emotional intensity, grammar, and pacing—while preserving the sensual tension, protective emotion, and aftermath of violence:
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The Aftermath – Blood, Heat, and Possession
Mike dropped to his knees beside Maria and gently scooped her into his arms, cradling her trembling body like she was made of porcelain.
He kissed her forehead softly.
"It's alright… I'm here now," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I'll never leave you again. No matter what."
He held her close—tight. As if letting go meant losing her forever.
Then, his gaze shifted.
Cold. Sharp. Lethal.
He turned to Andrew, who was gasping, barely conscious. Without a word, Mike walked over and delivered a brutal kick to his head. The crack echoed through the room. Then another. And another. He stepped on Andrew's face, grinding his heel down with pure rage.
He walked back to Maria, kissed her cheek, and gently placed the gun in her hand.
"Finish it," he whispered.
Without hesitation, Maria pulled the trigger.
Bang.
Blood splattered across the marble floor.
The room fell silent.
Mike turned and began to walk out, Maria still in his arms.
All the bodyguards standing in the hallway bowed deeply as he passed.
Jordan stepped forward, already giving orders.
"Clean the hotel. Secure the floor. Burn the footage. Wipe everything."
The men moved quickly, collecting bodies, erasing blood trails, disposing of weapons. No trace would be left behind.
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In the Car – Heat Rising
Mike slid into the backseat of the black SUV, Maria still in his lap. The moment the door shut, she stirred.
The drug was still working through her veins.
She leaned in, her lips brushing against his neck, trailing kisses up to his jaw. Her hand slipped under his shirt, fingers caressing his chest slowly, teasingly.
"Mmm…" she murmured, kissing the side of his throat, lips grazing his Adam's apple.
Mike let out a low grunt, catching her hand and tapping her forehead gently.
"Be good, babygirl," he warned with a husky voice. "Don't tempt me into getting the wrong idea."
Maria looked up at him, eyes heavy and dark, her expression unreadable. Slowly, she took his index finger and placed it between her lips, sucking it—eyes locked with his.
Time stopped.
The car was silent except for their breathing and the tension between them.
Then she straddled his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck.
Their eyes met again.
Fire and danger. Heat and control. A chaos only they understood.
Mike didn't stop her.
He simply tapped the privacy partition in front of the car—blocking the driver from seeing or hearing what was happening in the back seat.
Maria pulled him closer, kissing him hungrily as she slowly ground her hips against him, her body flushed and burning from the drug still coursing through her veins.
Mike clenched his jaw, his grip tightening slightly on her waist, but he didn't stop her. He let her move, his eyes locked on hers with a dangerous heat building beneath.
The car finally pulled into the mansion driveway.
Mike looked at her, his voice low and rough.
"You started this, baby. I'll be the one to end it."
He opened the door, got out, and carried her bridal-style into the house.
The butlers and staff all bowed deeply at the sight—but Mike didn't glance at a single one of them.
With a swift kick, he pushed the master bedroom door open and slammed it shut with his shoulder.
He walked to the bed and dropped Maria onto the mattress, his gaze dark with desire as he unbuttoned his shirt. One knee pressed into the bed as he leaned over her.
Maria reached up, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him down into a kiss. It was messy, fierce, unrestrained.
Her fingers gripped his shirt and tore it open, buttons flying, revealing the hard lines of his chest. She shoved him backward, straddling him with confident aggression, and leaned down to kiss across his chest.
Mike growled softly, letting his hands roam.
He slid one hand under her shirt, lifting it and tossing it aside. His other hand gripped her thigh, the curve of her body fitting perfectly against him. He pulled her hips closer as his lips found her neck—biting, kissing, claiming.
His voice rasped against her ear.
"You're mine, Maria. No more running."
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Absolutely! Here's your scene, fully fixed for grammar, structure, tone, and pacing, while keeping all the drama, deception, and emotional intensity intact. I've split it into readable sections for better flow and clarity:
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Chapter Title: "The Puppet Master Wears Heels"
The men chasing after Kira returned, frustration written all over their faces.
"We lost her, sir."
The man standing at the car sneered.
"Hmph. At least she knows what's good for her," he muttered. "That filthy girl must've realized Mister Kendrick is far out of her league. I was already disgusted at the thought of someone like her stepping into Master's car."
He exhaled sharply, then added coldly, "Only a woman like Lady Miranda is worthy to sit beside Master Kendrick."
The men nodded in agreement as they climbed into their vehicles. The engines roared, and the convoy drove off into the night.
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Kira stepped out from the back of an abandoned escort house, wiping blood off her lip and kicking the cracked wall in frustration.
"Where do I go now…" she muttered.
Running her hand through her tangled hair, she took out her phone and texted:
> Chris, I'll do it. I agree to the plan.
A few moments later, she hailed a taxi.
When the car pulled up outside the luxury club, the driver gave her a look—half curiosity, half judgment.
A girl like her didn't belong in a place like this.
Kira ignored it. She stepped out in her worn hoodie and jeans and approached a man standing outside the entrance. Without a word, he handed her a card.
As she approached the entrance, the bouncers stepped in front of her.
Mocking voices rose from the crowd.
"Who the hell does she think she is?"
"Must be lost."
Before anyone could say more, Kira calmly raised the card. The bouncer's eyes widened in shock.
She turned to the crowd with a soft, sharp voice:
"Don't judge a book by its cover. That card in your hand? Some of you would sell your entire family's kidneys and still never touch one like it. You think you've made it? Bragging to people you look down on won't hide how easily they can surpass you."
With that, she walked in.
Kira moved swiftly to the staff area, grabbing a dress that fit the club's "escort" profile. Once changed, she headed to the private elevator. The guard tried to speak, but she flashed the card again. No one dared stop her.
The third floor opened into a lavish hallway. She entered one of the VIP rooms, tucking the card inside her dress. Inside, several well-dressed men talked among themselves, ignoring her.
One of them finally glanced at her.
"You're the escort? Tch, you look young. Whatever—serve the drinks."
Kira nodded, quiet and obedient. She poured wine, her fingers brushing the tiny earring she wore.
The recording activated.
"I heard the Blackwood family's biological son is coming back," one of the men said, swirling his glass. "What are you planning to do about it?"
"Let him come," Richard replied, leaning back smugly. "I've already made a deal to ruin him and secure the estate. He's nothing."
"As long as you don't destroy everything in the process," another man muttered.
Kira closed the wine bottle and stood, "accidentally" knocking over a glass—its contents splashing over Richard's suit.
He jumped up, cursing.
"I'm so sorry, sir!" Kira blinked innocently. "I'm just a little clumsy…"
Richard growled and stormed off toward the bathroom.
One of the men scowled at her. "Useless girl. Get out."
Kira nodded, bowed, and turned—but before leaving, she bit her lip and cast a seductive glance at another man in the room. He raised an eyebrow in disdain.
She waited. Nothing.
With a fake pout, she turned and walked out—smirking the moment her back was turned.
Exactly as planned.
In the bathroom, Kira ran a hand through her hair, staring into the mirror.
She placed her phone on the counter and began speaking softly, feigning a desperate call.
"Yes… I did it. I placed the recording device on his body, just like you asked. And the slow poison? It's in his drink."
Her voice cracked.
"I'll do anything for money… You said you'd pay me if I completed the job. I need the money. For my family… Do you think I like being an escort?"
Outside the door, Richard froze—listening.
"I know he thinks he's in control," Kira added with a mocking scoff. "But he's just a puppet. And that lackey of his? If he doesn't pay me, I won't even let him speak to me again."
Richard's eyes darkened. His fists clenched.
Inside, Kira giggled, covering her mouth.
"That was too easy," she whispered to herself. "The call wasn't even real. And the poison? Please."
She grabbed her phone, composed herself, and left the bathroom.
Richard returned to the room, face unreadable. He picked up the wine glass Kira had poured for him, swirled it.
Then, he removed a ring from his finger, dipped it into the wine, and watched.
The gemstone glowed green.
Poison confirmed.
He smiled coldly, turned to the man who'd insulted Kira.
"Your worker spilled wine on me," he said. "You take the punishment. Drink it."
"What—? That's—" the man started, but Richard cut him off with a smile.
"Drink."
"Enough," the grey-eyed man at the table said coldly. "Stop being childish."
Richard didn't respond, but his gaze lingered on him with suspicion. Then he slipped the ring back on and stood.
"I'm going to deal with that girl."
He walked out, and as soon as the door closed, his eyes turned dark.
"Find her," he ordered.
Kira was dragged in minutes later, tossed onto the couch.
"Young Master, what can I do for you?" she purred, leaning close.
Richard grabbed her by the hair and shoved a gun to her forehead.
Kira's eyes widened.
"W-What did I do?! Please! I didn't mean to drug your friend!" she cried, trembling. "I just… I just wanted to spend one night with someone powerful… I let my greed take over!"
Richard raised an eyebrow. "And the poison in my drink?"
Kira flinched, clenched her fists.
"I didn't! I swear—I didn't do anything!"
"I heard your little speech in the bathroom," he growled. "Don't play innocent."
Kira dropped to her knees, hitting her head on the floor.
"I'm sorry! Someone paid me to do it—I'm just a worker! I don't even know his name! He gave me the poison and told me what to say! Please believe me!"
Richard raised his hand, ready to wave her away.
Kira screamed, desperate. "I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! I overheard the man say they've planted a spy in your family. And the land documents—they're forged! I swear!"
Richard narrowed his eyes.
"If you're lying, I'll kill you right now."
He took out his phone and made a call.
Kira bit her lip, praying Chris had already done his part.
The call ended. Richard threw the phone against the wall, shattering it.
Kira exhaled slowly, keeping her expression panicked and broken.
Still acting.
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