After going bankrupt, I was given away as a gift by my former nemesis, Colt Reyes. My former lover, Emerson Snyder, the one I had played with the most ruthlessly before, now traced his fingers along my face, his hands roaming every inch of my body.

"You sure had a lot of lovers," he said.

I provoked him defiantly, telling him he was the most despicable among all my lovers.

He gave my face a light pat, his suggestive tone dripping with amusement. "That's okay. Now you only need to serve me."

Nothing could be more terrifying than this.

The little lapdog who used to come running at my beck and call had become a powerful figure at the top of the food chain. Somehow, he had found out I was working here and brought a whole crew to take me away.

Emerson Snyder lazily hooked his finger under the chin of the guy in his arms. The move looked intimate, yet his sharp, hawk-like eyes scanned the room without revealing anything.

Even though I tried hard to stay hidden, he instantly found me. I felt like I was targeted by a predator, and a chill ran down my spine.

Emerson chuckled and patted the guy beside him, signalling him to leave. Then, with a cigarette between his fingers, he pointed straight at me, deciding my fate in a single breath.

"I want him."

The smile on Colt Reyes' face faltered for a moment before he looked back at Emerson with a pleasing expression. "Mr. Snyder, he's just a clumsy errand boy, and he might aggravate you by accident. If the one just now wasn't to your liking, we can get you someone else."

Emerson said nothing and crooked his finger at me, beckoning like I was a dog. It was the same gesture I used to make all the time. I knew there was no escape, so I stiffly walked over and lowered my eyes.

Emerson glanced at me, his words sharp and loaded. "This one doesn't know the rules yet."

The moment he finished speaking, someone kicked the back of my knees. I stumbled down, nearly collapsing onto the floor at his feet.

I clenched my teeth and swallowed the curse words that almost slipped out. Emerson savored my somewhat humiliated expression and began gripping my chin just like he had with the other guy.

He asked, "Do you know how to please someone?"

I was about to say no when he suddenly yanked me closer. We were so close that it looked like we might kiss at any second. I could clearly see the mockery in his eyes.

Emerson was obviously still bitter about what happened back then, which was why he was humiliating me like this.

I spoke through gritted teeth. "Mr. Snyder, I'm not into men."

Emerson raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my denial. He pressed his forearm against the back of my neck, keeping me from standing up. "I'm taking this one with me. You'll get that shipment as agreed."

Before I could say anything, everything went black, and I lost consciousness. The last thing I heard before passing out was Emerson's amused voice.

"It's fine, I just want to catch up with him."

However, Emerson's idea of catching up nearly killed me. He looked at my blurred eyes, his tone vicious as he asked, "Do you remember me now?"

When I said I did not, he made me relive those memories over and over again. Emerson stared at me from above. His eyes filled with a mix of lust and hatred that threatened to swallow me whole.

"Right, you had so many lovers... How could you possibly remember me?"

His movements carried a punishing edge.

I grabbed his hair and cursed at him weakly. "My biggest regret was bringing you home, Emerson. If it weren't for me, you'd still be entertaining God-knows-who somewhere."

That part was true. When I first met Emerson, he was a clumsy waiter who spilled wine all over me. He cried, clutched at my leg, and begged me not to report him. He swore he would clean everything up.

Looking into those impossibly dark, clean eyes, I suddenly had a twisted thought. "I won't report you. One million dollars, and spend one night with me."

I was not hurting for money, and I loved the thrill. I especially enjoyed keeping these innocent college boys like little pets, coaxing and playing with them.

Looking at his faded, overwashed shirt, I knew he would agree.

Sure enough, Emerson looked at me once and ended up in my bed that very night.

During the worst year of our games, even though I was the one controlling him, he would turn around and cry, begging me not to throw him away.

Those tear-filled eyes overlapped perfectly with the sharp, predatory gaze staring at me now.

Emerson licked away my tears and whispered, "Now you'll never be able to throw me away again."

I let out a laugh and weakly tugged at his hair. "Then go ahead and try."

My plan was simple.

There was no real grudge between us, and we had just slept together a few times. As long as I could make Emerson tired of me, I could pack up and crawl back to Colt.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I saw myself dressed neatly in a work uniform. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

After living like a spoiled millionaire for so many years, suddenly being told to work gave me the weird feeling of being back in school. I figured maybe this was some office roleplay, so I walked over, bent down, and started to unzip his pants.

However, Emerson suddenly scooped me up and dropped me onto his chair.

I frowned. "You want to do it here? That's fine, but we can only go once."

One minute later, I threw down the pen. "Emerson, what the hell is wrong with you?"

What kind of person would keep a lover around just to make them work?

What kind of person would ignore their lover and bury themselves in paperwork?

I thought Emerson was seriously messed up.

Emerson frowned and picked up the pen, shoving it back into my hand. "Focus."

He still had patience, but I could no longer stand staring at those dense numbers and charts.

I leaned over and suggestively kissed his fingers. When he did not react, I bit him lightly.

Emerson grabbed my mouth and murmured, "You need to learn how to be gentler with that mouth of yours."

Just when the tension started building, I noticed the pen in his hand. The paint was chipped, yet someone had carefully touched it up.

You could tell it had been well cared for.

We both froze for a moment.

I realized that it was the pen I had given Emerson as a half-hearted 20th birthday gift. I could not believe he had kept it after all these years.

I did not know what to feel, and just as I was about to say something sentimental to smooth things over, Emerson snatched the pen away and mercilessly locked me out. I stood outside the door and cursed every vile word I knew.

I gave up. My pants were practically halfway down, and all he cared about was some cheap pen.

I had grabbed 50 dollars from his pocket just now. I hopped in a cab with the money and told the driver Colt's address.

Emerson was cunning, though. While stripping me down last night, he had also swiped my wallet.

I ended up back at Colt's place. He was smoking, like he had known I would come back all along. His eyes, hidden behind the smoke, looked me up and down. He relaxed once he saw I could walk and move around.

"Told you Emerson wasn't interested in you." Colt was wrong.

Last night, Emerson had practically branded the word 'interested' all over my body. I had nearly thought my life would end right there.

Without wasting words, I lit a cigarette with his lighter and barked orders at him. "Close the curtains. I haven't slept all night, and I'm dead tired."

Colt looked like he wanted to laugh as he touched my face, staring at the bite marks on my neck. "Mr. Henson, do you remember you're bankrupt?"

I hated the way he looked at me, so I blew smoke right in his face. "You don't say."

Colt was my nemesis. After going bankrupt, I had nowhere to turn. Everyone wanted to kick me while I was down.

When I nearly starved to death, I finally knocked on Colt's door. I had a feeling he definitely would not just watch me starve.

He stared at me for ages, then very roughly hauled me back inside. I had guessed right; he did not let me starve. However, he did not make life easy for me either. He turned me into his lackey, and I had to follow him around everywhere every day.

Last time during a business deal, Emerson had his eye on me. To get that shipment, Colt wrapped me up like a package and sent me off.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got, so I deliberately flicked ash onto his hand. "Idiot, did you think sending me to someone else would solve everything?"

I glared at him coldly. "I'm here to settle the score with you."

He did not move, letting my anger wash over him.

His leather chair was too damn comfortable, and I was exhausted after everything. Half-asleep, I felt someone touch my thigh.

Emerson had played me too hard the night before, so I instinctively thought it was him. I clutched the arm and started pleading, "Not again, please."

My chin was suddenly grabbed hard, and I opened my eyes to meet Colt's rage-filled stare. "Where did he touch you?"

I thought he was mocking me, so I looked at him defiantly. "Anywhere you see, that brute Emerson already had his hands on me."

For a split second, I could have sworn Colt's face contorted, though I told myself I was imagining it.

It was not like I had not thought about crawling into Colt's bed before. However, he had gotten furious, yanked me down, slapped my face, and coldly said he was not interested in me.

I looked at him, trying to move his hand away. "If I disgust you, then get lost."

Not only did he not leave, but he actually escalated things by pulling out a rope from somewhere.

The sight of rope made me panic, and I quickly called out, "Colt! Colt! What are you trying to do?!"

Colt tied me up tight and grabbed my throat before kissing me hard.

I stared in disbelief as I realized he was into men, too!

Colt was like a madman–showing no tenderness, just vicious possession.

I could already taste blood in my mouth, though I could not tell if it was mine or his. One thing was certain: he seemed really bothered by the bite marks on my neck.

Several times in a row, he bit down on the exact spots that hurt most from last night.

The pain was blinding, making my blood rush and leaving me only able to stare and curse at him. "Colt! You're a maniac!"

Colt lifted his head, his lips already stained bright red with blood, his eyes brimming with murderous fury.

He looked like he had come to claim my life.

He chuckled and finished the rest of my sentence for me. "Yeah. The maniac is here to take your life."

I was already barely surviving, and I had no idea what was left of my life that was worth taking.

While I struggled, there came a cautious knock at the door. "Um... Mr. Reyes, could you maybe stop what you're doing for a moment?"

The door cracked open, and a trembling face peeked in. "S-someone's here for you."

Then, the door was kicked wide open as a whole crowd of bodyguards rushed in. The one leading them had a cold expression and strode over, trying to pull us apart.

Even at a time like this, Colt managed to stay calm. He laughed, his tone chilling. "Where did these strays come from, daring to cause trouble on my turf?"

The bodyguards did not respond. Instead, one of them draped a coat over my shoulders. As I caught the familiar scent, I knew it belonged to Emerson.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the line of black cars outside. They were parked in a row, blocking the entire street. In one of them sat Emerson, watching this circus without a flicker of emotion.

Emerson had changed so much. When he was not smiling, he carried that oppressive aura that belonged to someone in power; when he looked at you quietly, it was always unsettling.

When he did smile, that was when I knew I was in trouble.

Just like at this moment, he tugged at his lips, smirking without warmth, and motioned for me to come over.

I stopped struggling. I had not expected Emerson's fury to arrive so fast.

The air in the car was suffocating as I sat there, tugging at the coat, trying to cover the fresh marks.

Emerson suddenly pulled it open and stared coldly at the still-bleeding bite marks on my body. His tone was unreadable as he asked, "All from him?"

I could feel his breathing was heavier than usual. So, I quickly pushed all the blame onto Colt. "I was forced! I don't have any feelings for him at all!"

Emerson kept staring at me, those unfathomable eyes reflecting my panicked expression. "Did you run to him yourself?"

All my excuses got stuck in my throat.

Emerson waited patiently to hear my defense. When I fell silent, he did not get angry. He just gripped my leg and said, "I saw him touching your leg."

My blood ran cold. That meant he had seen everything from the start.

I could not even laugh it off. Desperate, I tried to do what I always did to calm him down, but my hands shook so much I could not even unbutton his pants.

Emerson only watched in silence. Finally, he sighed and mumbled, "You're such an idiot."

My anxious heart relaxed just a little as at least he was still willing to talk to me. Maybe that meant he was planning to forgive me.

Then, his tone shifted completely. "Should I break your legs so you won't go messing around with other men anymore?"