Chapter 333
Chapter 333
Snowflakes
The late afternoon light slanted through the blinds in golden bars across the living room floor, catching dust motes the tiny sparke.
Quince sat across from me on the low couch, files fanned out on the coffee table between us like a battlefield mat.
Photos, timelines, witness statements, every scrap of evidence we’d painstakingly gathered to bury Ares with the Love Avenue words once and for all.
“So we’ll be presenting this next week, right?” Quince asked, tapping the edge of the thickest folder.
I stared down at the documents, the weight of them suddenly heavier in the quiet.
“Yes. That’s enough to pin him, right p>
He nodded slowly.
“It’ll do. It’ll do a lot better if Kim Krates could testify in person, but…” He trailed off, voice softening with regret. “Too bad he’s s flat on his back in that hospital bed p>
“Yeah,” I murmured, the word barely audible. A fresh pang twisted in my chest at the thought of Kim pale, hooked to machines, fighting to breathe after what they’d done to him.
Just then, the low growl of an engine rolled into the driveway. Tires crunched over gravel. My brows drew together in confusion.
“Let me go check,” I said, pushing up from the armchair.
I crossed to the window, parted the slats with two fingers, and froze.
A sleek black luxury sedan idled outside, polished to mirror shine, windows tinted dark enough to swallow light. The driver’s door opened, and Cupid stepped out.
A wide, helpless grin broke across my face before I could stop it.
I didn’t walk to the door. I ran.
The latch clicked open under my hand. I stood on the threshold, heart hammering, watching him unfold from the car tall, broad- shouldered, moving with that quiet, predatory grace that always made the air feel thinner.
The late sun caught the sharp line of his jaw, the dark sweep of his hair, and for a second I couldn’t breathe.
A few days had passed since the gavel fell on Feroz Alpha. Death row. A month until execution.
His men, those who’d partake too were sentenced alongside him. Ares Bani’s hearing will come a day before Viviana Frost’s; both were scrambling, legal teams working overtime, just like us. The city still buzzed with it. The world still watched.
But right now, none of that mattered.
“Hey,” Cupid said softly as he reached me.
His hand rose to cup my cheek warmly, his thumb brushing my skin and then his mouth was on mine, Hot. Greedy. No preamble.
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Chapter 333
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No hesitation.
I had missed him. God, I had missed him so much it hurt.
I kissed him back with everything I’d held in for days, weeks of long nights and longer silences.
My fingers curled into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, tasting that faint edge of whatever cologne he wore that always made my knees weak.
When he finally drew back, I was breathless, dizzy, searching his eyes for whatever storm had driven him here.
He stepped inside. I tugged him further.
Then he stopped.
His gaze slid past me to Quince, still seated on the couch, files scattered like evidence of a crime scene. The air thickened instantly, sharp, electric tension coiling between the two men.
Quince stared. Jaw slack. Eyes widening in slow, stunned recognition.
“Uh…” I cleared my throat, heat crawling up my neck. “Cupid, this is Quince. My… colleague p>
Quince blinked. Swallowed hard. Turned to me, then back to Cupid, as though waiting for the illusion to shatter.
“Cupid Godlike?” he breathed.
I nodded once, small and helpless.
Quince had seen the framed photos around my apartment I’d never quite managed to hide. He’d only teased me and sees it as a mere “fan obsession.” He had no idea it wasn’t fandom at all. It was love.
Quince surged to his feet, extended his hand in a low, awkward bow.
“Please… welcome. My sister is a huge fan. She’s always loved the products you advertise. Never could afford them, but she follows every page, every post p>
“Quince…” I cut in quickly.
He jolted, cheeks flushing.
“It’s Cupid Godlike. What are you calling me for?” He spun back to Cupid, eyes shining. “Can I have a signature? She’ll lose her mind if she sees it. Please p>
I turned to Cupid, sliding my hand into his, squeezing gently. Pleading.
“I’m sorry. Can you p>
“Sure,” he murmured, voice low and even.
Quince dove into his backpack, produced a marker and a crumpled notebook, thrust them forward.
Cupid accepted both with careful fingers, flipped to a blank page, and signed left–handed, quick, elegant strokes.
Quince took it back like it was sacred.
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Chapter 333
“Thank you. Thank you so much p>
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Cupid handed the notebook over, then turned fully to me. His hand rose again, cupped my cheek, thumb tracing the curve of my lower lip. Then he kissed me once more. Slower this time. Tender, Possessive.
His fingers drifted to the hem of my blouse tugging, insistent.
“Cupid,” I whispered against his mouth, “slow down p>
He didn’t.
And neither did 1.
“Uh… I should get going,” Quince said, voice pitching high with sudden awkwardness. Papers rustled as he gathered them hastily. “I’ll keep in touch, Snow p>
The door opened. Closed. Footsteps faded. An engine started. Tires rolled away.
Silence settled.
Only then did Cupid pull back far enough to search my eyes, letting me draw a full, shaky breath.
“Cupid,” I said, half–laughing, half–exasperated. “What am I going to do with you p>
“Make Love with me,” he answered simply.
His hands slid under the hem of my blouse, lifting it slowly, reverently, baring skin inch by inch. Cool air kissed my stomach, my ribs.
His gaze followed, dark, hungry, reverent, feeding on every revealed curve until my breasts were bare inside the bra. He swallowed hard at the sight, throat working.
Gently, he hooked a finger under one strap, eased it down. Then the other. The lace slipped away. My breasts spilled into his palms.
He caught one nipple between thumb and forefinger, tender pressure, slow circles then lifted his eyes to mine, watching every flicker of reaction on my face.
“I missed you,” he said, voice rough and soft at once. “Just you p>
“I’m here,” I whispered, leaning into him, body already melting. “I’m here now p>
He scooped me up in one fluid motion, strong arms, sure grip, mouth claiming mine again as he carried me toward the bedroom.
The door clicked shut behind us and the rest of the world, all of it faded until there was only him. Only us. Only this.
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.