Fernando's POV

I stood at the doorway, unmoving, the weight of my presence alone suffocating the space between us.

The dim lighting of the hallway cast my shadow long and imposing, stretching into the room where the scent of sweat and sex still lingered in the air.

I let the face of the man standing in front of me roll through my mind, tasting it, testing it.

I didn't know him. Not yet. But the way he stiffened, the way his breath hitched as our eyes met-it was delicious.

Terror clung to him like a second skin, thick and visible, and I enjoyed every damn second of it.

He wasn't just scared.

He was petrified.

And I thrived on fear.

He stood frozen, still gripping the doorknob as if he could will himself out of this situation by sheer force alone. But there was no escape-not from me.

A slow smirk spread across my lips as I tilted my head, taking in the sight before me.

His shirt was half-buttoned, the fabric slightly wrinkled, a clear indication he had hurried to dress up and leave.

His hair was scattered, but not from sleep-no, this was the kind of disarray that came after an evening of desperate, sweaty indulgence.

Then, my gaze moved past him to the bed, and there lay Marlo, spread out, naked, completely spent.

Ah.

Amusement curled in my chest, a slow-burning ember turning into a flame.

This was beginning to get more thrilling and I honestly couldn't get enough.

I chuckled, low and dark.

"What do we have here?" My voice was soft, but the sharp edge of authority cut through each word.

My eyes moved back to the small man standing in front of my me and I made sure my gaze bored deep into his face.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple moving up.amd down in his throat.

He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing the fall was inevitable but still clinging to the hope of survival.

I took a step forward, and he instinctively took a step back, but the doorframe behind him kept him trapped.

I liked that.

"Tell me," I murmured, my voice almost lazy, "what exactly is a lowly recruit like you doing in Marlo's bed?"

He tensed.

"I-I wasn't-" he began but the words were too heavy for him to let out.

I arched a brow, watching the way he fumbled for words.

"No?" I let the denial hang between us before turning my gaze back to Marlo. "Because it looks like you were."

He clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his face neutral, but I could see the tension in the set of his shoulders.

He was trying so hard to keep control.

How adorable.

"You're new," I mused, studying him. "I don't recognize you."

He cleared his throat, finding his voice.

"Yes, sir. My name is Michael. I'm a new recruit" he replied.

I scoffed.

"That much is obvious."

Michael swallowed again, and I could practically hear his heartbeat drumming beneath his skin.

I stepped even closer, closing the already small gap between us.

I wasn't touching him, not yet, but I was close enough to feel the heat of his body radiating through the thin barrier of his shirt. Close enough to see the flicker of discomfort in his eyes as he struggled to keep his composure.

"Tell me something, Michael," I said, drawing out his name, tasting it on my tongue like a slow sip of whiskey. "Why are you in Marlo's room instead of working downstairs like a good little servant?"

His lips parted, a split-second delay before his answer came.

"I- I came to ask him some questions about work."

A lie.

Not a bad one, but not a good one either.

I leaned in slightly, letting my breath rest against his ear.

"Questions about work," I echoed, dragging out the words like I was savoring them. "And yet, I find you in here, half-dressed, while Marlo lies in that bed, utterly fucked out."

Michael's entire body went rigid.

I grinned.

"You must think I'm stupid," I continued, my voice dropping lower, silkier. "Do I look like a man who tolerates stupidity?"

Michael's hands curled into fists at his sides, but he didn't speak.

Smart choice.

"I'll tell you something," I murmured, bringing my lips dangerously close to his ear. "Listen very carefully, Michael."

He held his breath.

"You don't touch what belongs to me."

Michael flinched.

"I-"

I clicked my tongue, cutting him off.

"Don't." My voice was almost gentle, but the warning behind it was unmistakable. "Don't lie. Don't pretend."

I pulled back slightly, just enough to watch his expression as I delivered the final blow.

"There is only one person permitted to fuck in my mansion," I said, my lips curling into a smirk. "And that person is me."

Michael's face burned with embarrassment, his jaw tightening as he swallowed whatever retort was on the tip of his tongue.

I chuckled darkly.

"I don't like sharing, Michael." I reached out, brushing a single finger along the collar of his wrinkled shirt, enjoying the way his breath hitched at the contact. "So, if I were you, I would think very carefully before making another mistake."

Michael's hands clenched even tighter. His body was coiled, tense, like a cornered animal weighing its options.

But we both knew he wouldn't fight me.

Not here.

Not now.

Not ever.

He inhaled sharply.

"May I be excused, sir?" he asked rather politely.

I let the silence stretch, drawing out his discomfort before I finally, mercifully, gave a slow nod.

"Go."

Michael didn't hesitate. He turned on his heel and practically fled the room, his steps brisk, his entire body radiating the desperate need to get away from me.

I watched him go, my eyes trailing over his retreating form, and slowly, something dark and devious began to take shape in my mind.

Michael.

A new recruit.

A nobody.

But now...

Now, he had my attention.

And that?

That was far more dangerous than anything he could ever imagine.

Michael's POV

The bright lights of the supermarket shined above me, casting a white glow over the neatly stocked shelves.

The scent of freshly baked bread and aroma filled the air, an odd contrast to the tension twisting inside my chest.

I pushed the shopping cart down the aisle, gripping the handle so tightly my knuckles turned white.

Ashley strolled beside me, scanning the shelves for something sweet.

She was humming softly, utterly at ease, completely unaware-or maybe just ignoring-how fucking angry I was.

I turned to her, exhaling sharply.

"I let him intimidate me" I said.

Ashley grabbed a bag of gummy bears and tossed it into the cart without looking at me.

"Mhm."

I scowled.

"Don't mhm me. You don't get it."

She finally turned to face me, her lips twitching.

"Oh, I get it." Her voice was laced with amusement, which only fueled my frustration. "Fernando caught you sneaking out of Marlo's room half-dressed, and he played with you like a cat with a mouse."

I gritted my teeth.

"That's not funny."

Ashley chuckled.

"It's a little funny."

I slammed a box of cereal into the cart harder than necessary, making a few customers glance our way.

I ignored them, my jaw tightening.

Ashley sighed, her amusement softening when she saw how tense I was.

"Look, Michael, I get it. It pisses you off that he got under your skin." She touched my arm gently, grounding me. "But you're still in the game. That's what matters."

I exhaled through my nose, forcing myself to calm down.

"I just- I hate that I was afraid of him. Even for a second."

Ashley's blue eyes searched mine, and I could see the empathy there. She was the only person who truly understood why this case meant everything to me. Why failing wasn't an option.

She lowered her voice.

"Michael, fear isn't weakness. It keeps you alive."

I looked away, staring at the rows of canned soup like they held all the answers.

"I don't want to be afraid of him."

"Then don't be," she said simply. "But don't be reckless either."

I scoffed.

"You think I'm reckless?"

Ashley crossed her arms.

"You had sex with Marlo to get a party invitation, didn't you?"

I winced.

"I had to."

She smirked.

"Uh-huh. And how was it?" she asked and I could see the amusement in her eyes.

I shot her a glare.

"Don't."

Ashley burst into laughter, attracting even more unwanted attention.

"Keep your voice down," I muttered.

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still grinning.

"Okay, okay. So, tell me about this party."

I sighed, shifting my weight.

"It's an exclusive gathering. Only the prominent members of Fernando's inner circle get an invite. If I can get in, I'll be one step closer to him."

Ashley's expression grew serious.

"And Marlo's tag gets you in?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. I managed to take it before Fernando showed up."

Her eyebrows lifted.

"You managed to take it? So, you weren't sure you'd get it?"

I clenched my jaw.

"It was risky."

Ashley exhaled.

"Jesus, Michael. You have to be careful."

"I am careful."

She gave me a look.

"Are you? Or is your hatred for Fernando clouding your judgment?" she asked.

That made me pause.

Ashley was the only person in the FBI who knew about my past-about what Fernando's Mafia crime family did to my sister. She was the only one I trusted with that information, and we both knew that if the Bureau ever found out, I would be taken off this case before I could blink.

I couldn't let that happen.

"I'm not losing focus," I said.

Ashley studied me for a long moment, then nodded.

"Alright. But promise me something."

I lifted a brow.

"What?"

"Don't let him see what he does to you." Her voice was softer now, filled with quiet concern. "You want to take him down? Good. Do it. But don't let him see your hate. Don't let him know he gets to you."

I swallowed hard.

"I won't."

Ashley held out her pinky.

I rolled my eyes.

"Are we twelve?"

She wiggled it like a ten year old child.

"Humor me."

Sighing, I brought my pinky to hers.

"Fine. I promise."

A satisfied smirk curled her lips.

"Good. Now, let's get out of here before you kill someone over a loaf of bread."

I snorted.

"Shut up."

She laughed, and just for a moment, some of the weight in my chest lifted.

Ashley and I walked out of the supermarket, the bags of groceries weighing down our arms.

The night air was calm, cool, a welcome relief from the heat inside.

"I'll see you later," she said as we reached her car.

I nodded.

"Yeah. Be careful" I said as I watched her begin to open the door of her car and placed the groceries inside before heading to the driver seat.

She smirked.

"Always" she replied and I could tell she was okay.

I didn't feel fine if I wasn't sure was was completely safe.

Working in the FBI meant we were prone to a lot of dangers and Ashley was the only person in my life I cared about to ensure her safety.

I watched her drive off before making my way to my own car.

My mind was still racing, replaying every second of my encounter with Fernando.

Next time, I wouldn't let him get the upper hand.

I reached into my pocket for my keys, gripping them tightly as I approached my car.

Then-

Darkness.

A big black bag was brought over my head, and before I could react, strong hands grabbed me.

I struggled to be free.

"What the-"

A sharp blow to my stomach knocked the wind out of me.

Pain exploded in my ribs as I was forced forward, my knees falling against the pavement.

I struggled, adrenaline surging through my veins, but they were too strong.

The world tilted.

My body felt heavy.

The last thing I thought before unconsciousness swallowed me whole was the name that fueled my rage.

Fernando.

And my hatred for him burned hotter than ever.

Fernando's POV

I leaned back in my chair, swirling the deep red wine in my glass as my maid, Emilia, carefully lifted another forkful of food to my lips.

I parted them just slightly, letting her slip the tender piece of meat inside. I chewed slowly, savoring the flavors.

It was a good meal-perfectly cooked and seasoned just right.

Yet, the presence of the man standing before me was ruining my appetite.

"Boss, I swear I don't know how it happened," Marlo stammered, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

His voice grated on my nerves, filled with desperation, regret, and the kind of blind devotion that bored me.

I raised a hand, stopping Emilia from feeding me the next bite. My sharp gaze lifted to Marlo, and he visibly flinched.

I sighed.

"Marlo."

"Yes, Boss?"

I set my glass down with deliberate slowness.

"Are you aware that I despise incompetence?"

"Yes, Boss." He bowed his head.

"And yet," I continued, my tone smooth but sharp as a blade, "here you are, in my dining room, telling me that you've lost something important."

Marlo swallowed.

"I-I didn't lose it, Boss. I must have left it in my room."

I cocked my head.

"Then retrieve it."

His face turned red.

"That's the thing, Boss. I looked everywhere. It's gone."

My fingers tapped rhythmically against the polished wooden table.

My irritation was growing, but something about this situation piqued my interest.

"Gone," I echoed. "So someone took it?"

Marlo hesitated, then nodded.

"That's what I think, Boss."

A slow smile curled my lips.

"And tell me, Marlo... who was the last person in your room?"

He fidgeted, hesitating before answering.

"Michael, Boss."

Ah.

I leaned forward slightly, folding my hands together, intrigued.

Michael.

The quiet, unassuming new recruit I had barely noticed until last night, when I caught him sneaking out of Marlo's room like a guilty lover.

I had seen the way he froze when he met my gaze, the terror flashing through his eyes. I had felt his discomfort when I whispered into his ear, warning him never to overstep again.

And yet, here we were.

I hummed in amusement, my fingers drumming once against the table.

"So, Michael," I mused, tasting the name on my tongue. "Does our newest recruit have a delicious dark side?"

Marlo stiffened.

"Boss, Michael is-"

I silenced him with a look.

"Don't bore me with your defenses, Marlo. If the tag was last seen in your room, and Michael was the last person in there, then I have questions."

As if on cue, the grand doors to the dining hall opened, and two of my men stepped inside, dragging a man with them.

My smile widened.

Michael.

A big sack covered his head, his hands bound behind his back.

He wasn't struggling, which told me he was conscious. Good.

Excitement coursed through me as I gestured lazily with my hand.

"Remove it."

One of my men brought the bag off, and for a single moment, I was caught off guard.

Michael's eyes-burning, filled with pure hatred-locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a thrilling chill down my spine.

Ah.

It was gone in a flash, replaced by a polite, controlled expression, but I had seen it.

Interesting.

Michael blinked once, then licked his lips.

"Boss," he said smoothly, his voice betraying no emotion. "What's going on?"

I leaned back, pretending to consider him.

"That's what I'd like to know, Michael."

His jaw tensed slightly, but he remained composed.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

I gestured toward Marlo without looking at him.

"It appears my dear Marlo has lost something very important to me."

Michael tilted his head, feigning confusion.

"Lost something?" he asked.

"Yes." I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table. "A tag. One that not only grants access to my very exclusive party tomorrow but also important rooms of my mansion."

Michael's expression didn't change. If he was nervous, he hid it well.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Boss. But I don't see what that has to do with me" he replied.

I smiled.

"Marlo says you were the last person in his room before it went missing and we both know that's true" I waited to see what expression would appear on his face.

A flicker of something passed through his eyes, but it was gone too fast for me to catch.

"I was in his room, yes. But only to ask him about work, like i said before" he replied.

I rolled my eyes. It seems he was still going to stick to his stupid excuse.

"Work," I repeated, amused. "Not to, let's say... indulge in more personal activities?"

Michael's lips thinned.

"No, Boss."

Liar.

I studied him, my amusement deepening.

He was good-very good at maintaining his composure. But I had been doing this for too long.

I knew when someone was hiding something.

I turned back to Marlo, who was still standing stiffly, awaiting my judgment. I sighed.

"Marlo, Marlo, Marlo. Do you know what I hate more than incompetence?" I asked.

Marlo swallowed.

"Lies, Boss?"

I grinned.

"Exactly."

Michael remained still as I turned my attention back to him.

"Tell me, Michael." I tapped a finger against the table. "Are you a liar?"

His eyes met mine, calm and unreadable.

"No, Boss."

I held his gaze for a long, silent moment. Then, finally, I let out a low chuckle.

"Well," I said, leaning back again, "I suppose we'll find out."

Michael remained silent, waiting.

I tapped my chin, pretending to think.

"Marlo's carelessness is unfortunate. He should be punished for losing something so important."

Marlo stiffened.

"Boss, please-"

I waved a hand, silencing him.

"But... I'm feeling generous." My gaze slid back to Michael, and a delicious idea formed in my mind.

A game.

A test.

I smiled.

"Michael, since you seem to be such a... helpful recruit, I have an offer for you."

Michael's expression remained carefully neutral.

"An offer?"

I nodded.

"Come to my party tomorrow."

Michael blinked.

"I-"

"Not as a guest, of course." I smirked. "You'll work as a server boy."

Michael's lips parted slightly, as if he hadn't expected that.

Interesting.

Then, something flashed in his eyes-just for a second.

Excitement?

Ah.

Now that was intriguing.

Michael quickly masked his expression and gave a respectful nod.

"Of course, Boss. I'd be honored."

I studied him.

"Would you?"

"Yes."

I let the silence stretch, savoring the moment.

Then, finally, I grinned.

"Good."

Michael inclined his head.

"Thank you, Boss."

I watched him carefully, my curiosity growing.

Who are you really, Michael?

What secrets are you hiding?

And more importantly...

Why do I want to find out?

As Michael was escorted out of the dining hall, my smirk widened.

Oh, this was going to be fun.