Tobias' POV

Later, when I'm alone and the world is quiet-when it doesn't feel fuzzy and dark-I'll replay three days ago in my mind, trying to remember how I felt before my life was upended.

I'll recall coming home to my apartment from my shitty job, collapsing on my queen-size bed, staring at the cracks on the ceiling.

The same apartment I shared with my uncle-since we were evicted from the last one for unpaid rent.

The car ride is silent. My questions hang in the air, unanswered, ignored by the two men who had dragged me out of that room and shoved me into this car.

I sit frozen. My wrists still ache, tingling from where the rough rope once bit into my skin. The silence is deafening, broken only by the ragged sound of my own breathing.

My mind races like a frantic animal trapped in a cage. My heart pounds against my ribcage, too fast, too loud.

Benjamin Shaai.

The name alone feels like a heavy stone on my chest. A ruthless mafia boss. The king of New York's ugly underbelly. And now... my owner.

Everyone in New York knows the name Benjamin Shaai. Rumors say no one has seen his real face. The only people who have are his men and close associates. He rules with an iron fist, kills for the slightest mistake.

That's why they call him The Devil.

And here I am... bought by the devil himself.

The man who paid a million dollars for my body.

For my supposed "untouched" soul.

His words echo in my ears-cold and possessive.

"You belong to me, Tobias."

The name sounded alien on his tongue. It hadn't been spoken with such menace since my mother died.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice the car had stopped. I only noticed when the door opened and a voice snapped:

"Out."

I looked up.

"What the fuck are you looking at? Get out. Or do you want me to drag you out again?" one of the men growled, voice sharp with warning.

I climbed out slowly, my eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

The devil has a castle.

The estate is a fortress-five stories of glass, stone, and steel, set against pine trees and cliffs. Security cameras blink like unblinking eyes. Floodlights sweep the grounds. Armed guards patrol like soldiers.

Everyone here carries a gun. Escape is a fantasy. If I run, I'll be gunned down-or ripped apart by those patrol dogs. Reality crashes down.

This is my life now. Thanks a lot, Uncle.

"Follow," the man snaps.

Inside, the house smells like leather and power. Every piece of furniture screams money. The art is bold and dangerous.

"This isn't a museum. Move. I don't have all day," the man barks again. I quicken my pace. We stop at a large door, guarded by a faceless man.

I'm shoved inside. The door locks behind me.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" I bang on the door. "Why did you lock me in?! I'm not a fucking animal! Open the damn door!"

Silence.

No one responds.

I slump against the door and slide down to the floor.

"Fuck," I whisper.

The room is large. A king-size bed, a dresser. No windows-only two doors. I try the first: a bathroom with a navy-blue interior. The second? Locked.

Some time passes. Then a knock. The door opens. An older woman in a navy-blue gown enters, carrying folded clothes. She sets them on the bed.

"These are for you. The boss said you should freshen up and change. He wants you ready for him when he returns," she says softly, her eyes almost kind. Then she leaves.

She reminds me of my mother.

But her memory is fading. The details blur, and what scares me the most... is waking up one day and not remembering her face at all.

I look at the clothes with a flare of anger. That bastard wants to sample what he bought. Like I'm a fucking product. I snatch the clothes and walk into the bathroom. I'm not doing this for him. I stink. We weren't even given soap or water at the auction house.

The hot water hits my skin like fire and I breathe again. I scrub until I feel raw. I don't stop until the water turns cold. Then I dress in the fresh clothes.

For the first time in days, I feel like myself again. But when I walk out, I'm not alone.

Benjamin.

He's sitting on the bed, legs crossed. His presence shifts the air-heavy with control, laced with something darker.

He studies me. His eyes roam from my face to my bare feet. My muscles tighten.

"Hmm... You cleaned up nicely," he purrs. "Good boy." A surge of desire rushed through me as he called me a good boy.

"I didn't clean up for you," I bite. "I did it for myself."

I held his gaze, my jaw clenched. I know I'm playing with fire. But I won't submit. Not to him.

He stands and walks toward me. I take a step back, but not in fear-in defiance.

We play this game of power until my back hits the wall. He's inches away. I can feel his breath.

"It seems you've forgotten my rules," he whispers. "You need a reminder of what I'm capable of."

His hand slams against my throat. Tightens.

I choke, struggling, gasping-tapping his wrist-until he finally lets go. I fall to my knees, coughing.

He returns to the bed. Calm. As if nothing just happened. Then he starts to undress. First his suit. Then his tie.

"What are you doing?" I ask, panic rising.

No answer.

He begins unbuttoning his shirt. "What are you trying to do?" I asked again "What does it look like?" he finally says, his eyes dark.

"To the bed. All fours. Face down. Ass up."

"No." I spit it out, shaking. "If you think I'm going to let you touch me, you're dead wrong."

"No?" he repeats, like a challenge.

He walks toward me again. My heart pounds.

Too fast. Too loud.

"Stop," I say, wanting to put space between us.

Then a stupid idea hit me. I blurted it out before I could stop myself. "Let me go," I said, voice shaking. "I promise, I'll pay you back."

"Pay me back?" he mocks. "A million dollars? How?"

"I have a job. If you let me go, I'll pay you in installments."

"That shitty job of yours?" he scoffs. "You don't even make rent. You think you'll pay off a million?"

"Fine. You'll work for me."

"What's the job?" I said

He meets my eyes. "You'll be my personal whore."

A pause. Then that cold, satisfied smile.

I stood there frozen, the air around me thick with humiliation and rage.

My fists clenched. My throat burned.

Benjamin's POV

"You'll be my personal whore," I said, meeting his eyes with a satisfying smile.

Tobias stood there with clenched fists and a tightened jaw. His face burned with rage."What the heck do you take me for?" he shouted, pointing a finger in my direction.

"I'm not a whore-or anybody's whore," he continued, his voice raw with fury. "I will never allow someone like you to touch me."

How dare he speak to me like that.

He seems to have forgotten-I'm the King of New York.

I kill for less.

I don't fucking care that I bought him for a million dollars.

But for some reason, I haven't put a bullet through his damn skull yet.

"You will not speak to me like that in my house," I growled, my voice rising with anger. Though I might love his defiance, I don't tolerate disobedience. My men might begin to think I'm going soft.

I pulled my gun from my pocket, cocking it in his direction.

"It seems you've forgotten I bought you."

"You don't own me." Tobias muttered in a low voice.

I could see the fear in his eyes-but that damn defiance was still there.

He took a step back.

I stepped forward. His body swayed away instinctively.

"I own you," I said coldly. "And you owe me everything-starting with obedience." He swallowed hard and repeated, quieter this time, "You don't own me."

I put my gun away and moved closer, my fingers brushing the back of his neck-softly.

His body trembled under my touch. Interesting.I smirked. He's so damn responsive. He says he doesn't want to be touched, but his body tells a different story.

"Yes, I do," I muttered against his ear, the anger dissolving into waves of desire crashing through me.

That seemed to break him. He spun around and snapped, "Go to hell."

A slow, dark smile curved my lips. "Already there. And you, Tobias... you're my favorite sin."

He hated how his body reacted to me.

I could see it in the flush on his cheeks.

"What do you want from me?" he spat.

"Everything. Your fear. Your fire. Your surrender. And your body."

His breath hitched.

That damn body-always betraying him. I leaned in, brushing my lips against his ear.

"And you're going to give it to me, Tobias. Not because I force you... But because you'll crave it. Hate yourself for it. But still come back for more."

"Never," he whispered, though his body leaned in instead of away.

My hand trailed lower-slow, taunting, calculated-dragging down his chest. I watched the tremble in his muscles. His denial didn't match the fire in his eyes.

He hated this.

And yet... he stayed.

I tilted his chin, his mouth dangerously close to mine.

"You can pretend, Tobias. Keep that little lie on your tongue all night. But I see the truth in your eyes. You want this."

He didn't answer.

But he didn't stop me either.

"I'll pay you a thousand dollars for every time you satisfy me."

He hesitated... then nodded.

I stepped back slightly, my gaze burning into him.

"Get on your knees."

He flinched-like a man at war with himself.

And then...

He sank. Slowly. Reluctantly. Knees hitting the floor. Fists clenched at his sides. Still defiant. But submitting.

That was the beauty of it. I smiled, dark and victorious.

"That's more like it."

"Unbuckle my belt and take my cock out," I commanded.

He met my gaze, then dropped his eyes to my trousers.

His trembling hands moved to the buckle.

He unfastened it and pulled my trousers down slightly.

My cock, semi-hard, strained against my boxers.

He peeled them back, and it sprang free.

His eyes rose again, locking with mine.

Then he dragged his tongue across his lips.

Fuck.

Those lips...

My desire surged. My cock hardened, fully erect.

I gripped his jaw.

"Hold it out," I said slowly. "And wrap those pretty lips around it."

He swallowed-his Adam's apple bobbing.

His fingers wrapped around my shaft, stroking slowly.

Up... then down.

I gasped.

Fuck.

He was driving me mad.

And then-finally-his lips closed around the head of my cock.

He sucked, slow and maddening.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I fisted his hair and buried myself deeper into his throat.

I fucked his mouth with punishing thrusts-fast, raw-then slowed just to feel him gasp, to watch him struggle.

He choked softly, throat tight around me.

"Relax," I whispered. "Breathe through your nose." He obeyed. Good.

"Good boy."

The light that flickered in his eyes... fuck, it did something to me. I threw my head back, hips rolling into his face.

"Uhm... uhm... uhm..."

The sounds tore from my throat-desperate, primal. Pleasure surged like a tidal wave. I was close.

So fucking close.

And then-

My climax hit, hard and fast.

I emptied inside him, every nerve on fire, my grip tightening in his hair as I rode it out.

When the pleasure faded, I slowly pulled my softening cock from his mouth.

"Swallow every drop," I said firmly.

He stared up at me-eyes wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

Regret.

Humiliation.

Something darker.

His fists were clenched on his lap.

I stepped closer, brushing his chin, forcing his gaze to meet mine.

"Look at you," I murmured.

"Kneeling at my feet, my cum still on your tongue... and you're still pretending you're not mine?"

His breath hitched. His silence spoke volumes.

God, I loved that defiance.

Not because it challenged me.

But because it made breaking him so much sweeter.

I knelt, leveling with him.

My thumb dragged across his swollen lower lip, catching the wetness still clinging there.

"Does it hurt?" I asked quietly.

He blinked, startled. "What?" "To want me this badly," I whispered. "To hate yourself for it. To need more." He swallowed hard, fists still clenched like he was holding on to the last piece of himself.

"You can say it," I murmured. "I already see it-in your eyes. In your body. In every tremble." Still, he said nothing. I rose slowly, letting him watch me adjust my cock-but I didn't cover up.

Let him see.

Let him burn.

I pulled a hundred-dollar bill from my pocket and tossed it onto the bed.

"That's what you get for now. Satisfy me more next time, and maybe you'll earn the full thousand." Anger flared in his eyes.

"We had a deal," he hissed. "You promised me a thousand." I smirked.

"I never said I was satisfied. This is what you've earned-for now. Do better, and maybe you'll get more."

I turned toward the door. Paused.

"The maid will bring you something to eat." I glanced back coldly.

"Enjoy your first night in the Devil's Cave, Tobias."

I stepped out, closing the door behind me with a sharp click.

I turned to the guard standing post. "Make sure he doesn't escape." "Yes, boss," the guard replied. I lingered a moment.

He hated me right now.

But even in hate, he trembled for me.

He could resist.

Fight.

Spit fire.

But he was already mine.

And whether it took days, weeks, or months-I'd make sure he knew it.

Tobias' POV

"My sweet boy... come closer. I don't have much strength, but I need you to hear me." My mother's weak and trembling voice broke through.

The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the low hum of the machines keeping her alive. Tubes and wires clung to her fragile body, a cruel reminder of how weak she had become. The fluorescent light above cast a pale glow over her face, making her look almost ghostly.

I sat at her bedside, my small hands gripping the blanket as if holding it tighter could somehow keep her from slipping away.

My mother stirred faintly, her breathing heavy and uneven. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she turned her head slowly, her tired eyes finding mine. The wires tugged slightly with her movements, and the sound of the machines filled the silence around us.

My throat tightened, my tears threatening to spill, and I shook my head desperately.

"Mama, don't say that. You're going to get better."

A faint smile curved her lips as she reached for my hand, her skin cold against my warmth.

"I wish I could, my love. But if I can't stay, I want my words to stay with you. You are young now, but you are wiser than your years. Remember this-kindness will always make you strong, not weak. Be gentle with others, even when the world feels harsh."

My chest heaved as I fought the ache in my heart.

"I don't want you to leave me... who will take care of me?"

She brushed her trembling fingers through my hair, her breathing shallow but tender.

"You'll never be alone. You have your uncle, and I'll be watching over you from the sky. But more than that, you have my love, and it will stay in your heart forever. When you feel scared, put your hand on your chest. That beating you hear? That's me, always with you."

My tears fell freely now, soaking the bedsheets as I clung to her arm.

"But I need you, Mama. I don't know how to be brave."

My mother's eyes glistened as she whispered,

"Being brave doesn't mean you don't cry, darling. It means you keep going even when it hurts. Study hard, listen to those who guide you well, and never stop dreaming. One day, you'll be a man I'll be proud of-though I already am."

I hugged her, burying my face against her shoulder, desperate to keep her here.

"I love you, Mama. Please don't forget me."

Her lips trembled into a faint kiss on my forehead, her whisper barely audible.

"Oh, my son... I could never forget you. You are my heart. Live fully, love deeply, and carry me with you always. Promise me that."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding quickly as my tears fell.

"I promise."

For a brief moment, silence settled between us, broken only by the erratic beeping of the monitor. Then, slowly, the sound began to stretch into one long, piercing tone. I froze. My little hands shook as I clutched her arm, my eyes darting to the monitor in fear. Nurses rushed into the room, voices rising, but all I could hear was the sound of that flat, endless beep.

My mother lay still, her chest unmoving. The wires still clung to her, but she was gone.

my eye snapped open.

I gasped, sitting upright on the bed, my body drenched in sweat. My heart raced wildly in my chest as I looked around. No hospital. No machines. No wires.

I lifted my trembling hands to my face. They were larger now, stronger-hands not of a child, but of a man. Slowly, realization dawned on me. I wasn't young anymore. I was grown and, more importantly, I was in the devil's house.

If my mother were still alive, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be proud of the decision I made yesterday.

I recalled the encounter I had with Benjamin yesterday-accepting his proposition to become his personal whore, and how he used my mouth for his pleasure.

Fuck, I hated the way my body reacted to him using me. The desire I felt was like nothing before. I was high on pleasure even without him touching me. My cock had fought against my trousers, desperate to break free.

And that bastard made sure to tell me. Fuck his confidence, fuck his money, and fuck his enormous cock.

I looked down at my already hard cock, a wet spot already forming. Damn. That bastard wasn't even here, and just thinking of him made me hard. I needed to get a grip on myself.

I shifted into a sitting position on the bed, forcing myself to think of how he bought me and how much I hated him. That did it-my cock began to soften.

My eyes moved to the hundred-dollar bills on the table-a reminder of the deal I made with the devil. Now I truly felt like a whore.

A sudden commotion outside the window pulled me from my thoughts. I stood, uneasy, and moved closer. What I saw below shook me to my core.

Six massive men in black suits stood in a tight circle, tattoos peeking from under their sleeves.

At their center knelt a man with his hands tied behind his back, ropes cutting into his skin. He looked wretched-like someone who had been tortured for days. The sight of him made bile rise in my throat.

He muttered something to one of the suited men who stepped forward. I couldn't hear the words, but from his desperate body language, I knew he was begging. The man in front of him showed no mercy-he started beating him with brutal force.

I flinched at each blow, watching helplessly from the window. Even though their words didn't reach me, it was clear the victim was pleading for his life.

Then the suited man suddenly stopped. Relief flickered in me-until I saw who stepped forward.

Benjamin.

He carried that same unsettling, psychopathic look, his dark eyes glowing with cruel amusement. The circle of men shifted, making way for him.

My stomach turned as I watched him crouch, speaking to the broken man. Again, I couldn't hear, but the kneeling man's desperate gestures made it obvious he was begging Benjamin for mercy.

Instead of mercy, Benjamin drew a gun from behind his waistband and cocked it against the man's head. The victim shook violently, his pleas growing frantic.

I froze, my sweaty hands trembling against the glass. I felt like I was watching the devil himself at work.

Then Benjamin did something unexpected. He motioned with the gun, signaling the man to stand. Relief flooded the tortured man's face as he rose shakily, limping away with a faint glimmer of hope. I too felt a rush of relief-maybe Benjamin was letting him go.

But the relief was short-lived.

The moment the man took a few steps, Benjamin raised his gun and fired. The man crumpled instantly, blood pooling beneath him.

I blinked rapidly, praying I was hallucinating. My heart thundered so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. Then Benjamin slowly lifted his gaze, and our eyes met.

That devilish smile curved his lips-as though killing a man was nothing but a game. As though he wanted me to know exactly who he was.

I stumbled back from the window, muttering under my breath. I needed to run. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't end up like him.

The click of the door unlocking startled me. I spun around as the woman from yesterday entered, balancing a tray of food in one hand and clean clothes in the other.

"Honey, you look like you've just seen a ghost," she said with motherly concern. Setting the tray down, she moved toward me. "Are you okay? You look pale. Should I inform the boss?"

At the mention of the boss-Benjamin-I snapped out of my daze.

"No, no. I'm fine," I stammered, forcing a smile. I gestured toward the window. "I was just... watching the view. I thought I saw a cat stuck in the tree. It made me feel bad that I couldn't help."

Her face softened. "Oh, you're so kind. I'll ask one of the men to check." She turned toward the window. "Where did you see it?"

"Right there," I pointed quickly, praying she wouldn't look too long. "Maybe it got down already."

"Maybe," she murmured, still scanning the trees.

I glanced back outside. Benjamin and his men were gone. Even the body had vanished. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

The woman turned back with a smile. "Alright, honey, eat your food. And here are some clothes."

I thanked her quietly, my fake smile still plastered on my face. She left, but this time, the door didn't lock behind her.

My pulse raced. Had she forgotten? Or was it a trap?

I didn't care.

I refused to die here.

I crept toward the door, heart pounding, and placed my hand on the knob. Slowly, carefully, I twisted it. The door gave way with the faintest click.

I cracked it open and peeked into the hallway.

Empty.

I slipped out, my breath shallow, only to nearly jump out of my skin when I saw a guard slumped against the wall by my door. Asleep. Stirring slightly.

I tiptoed past the sleeping guard, my breath caught in my throat. The hallway stretched ahead, and at the very end was a door. My only chance.

Every step felt like a lifetime, my pulse pounding louder than my footsteps. Finally, I reached it.

My trembling hand hovered over the knob, hope sparking inside me for the first time. Freedom was just one twist away.

But before I could turn it, a voice cut through the silence.

Smooth. Cold. Familiar.

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?"

My blood ran cold.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Benjamin.