The Ring’s Whisper

"Is she implying? Damn..."

Stefano’s fingers twitched against the stem of his wine glass, the sinful father's knuckles whitening as Rebecca’s breath ghosted over his ear. The air between them thickened, charged with something dangerous—something hungry.

"Let me help you forget, just for tonight."

Her words slithered into his mind, wrapping around her dad's restraint like a serpent coiling its prey. His pulse hammered in his throat. He should pull away. He should.

But then his thumb brushed against cold metal in his pocket.

The ring.

Corrupt

Dominate

It had been a curiosity at first—an artifact from the museum’s storage, unearthed from a tomb in the Valley of the Kings. A simple silver band, its surface etched with hieroglyphs that seemed to shift when he wasn’t looking. The curator had dismissed it as a trinket, but Stefano had felt its weight the moment he touched it.

And now, as Rebecca’s fingers trailed down his arm, her touch feather-light yet searing, the ring pulsed against his thigh like a second heartbeat.

Take control.

The thought wasn’t his own. It slithered into his mind, dark and slick, curling around his willpower like smoke.

Stefano exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the glass.

"Rebecca," he murmured, his voice rougher than he intended. "You’re too kind to your old man."

She giggled—a sound that sent heat pooling low in his gut—and leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his shoulder. "You’re not old, Papa. Just… tired." Her fingers kneaded the tension from his forearm, her touch lingering just a second too long. "Let me take care of you."

The ring burned.

Breed

Stefano’s free hand dipped into his pocket, his fingers closing around the band. The moment his skin made contact, a jolt of energy surged up his arm, sharp and intoxicating. His vision blurred at the edges, the world tilting for a fraction of a second before snapping back into focus—clearer now. Sharper.

Rebecca’s pupils dilated.

He hadn’t even realized he was staring into them until he saw it—the faintest flicker of gold swirling in the green, like sunlight through stained glass.

"Look at me, darling."

His voice was different now, the middle-aged man's baritone was laced with something ancient. Deeper. Commanding.

Osiris fallen divinity coursed through him.

"O-Ohmygod... Why am I feeling so fucking hot!? A mental echo... Wonderful, now he could read minds too?

Rebecca’s breath hitched. Her fingers stilled on his arm.

Stefano didn’t ask. His hypnotic hold growing with the redhead vixen's touch.

"Come here."

She obeyed without hesitation, stepping between his legs, her slender body so close he could feel the heat radiating from her pale skin. The scent of her—vanilla and something darker, something ripe—flooded his senses.

The ring hummed against his palm, its power thrumming through his veins like liquid fire.

"You want to make me feel better, don’t you?"

Rebecca nodded, her lips parting slightly.

"Then be a good girl and kneel."