NICO

The last thing I expected when I answered the ad was to end up in a penthouse—face-to-face with a man who looked like he owned the city.

He stood behind a glass desk like a king, dressed in black tailored perfection, his tie still knotted, sleeves rolled halfway. Clean-shaven jaw, sharp cheekbones, and dark eyes that cut through me like a blade.

And I was staring.

Shit.

“Name?” His voice was calm, deep, and commanding.

“Nico... Nico Rivera,” I replied, clearing my throat and forcing myself to look anywhere but at his full lips.

“Age?”

“Twenty-five.”

He looked up from the file, brows lifted. “Bodyguard experience?”

“Military background. Four years in private security after that. No failed assignments. No personal ties.” I paused. “If you’re looking for complete discretion, I’m it.”

His lips twitched. “We’ll see.”

He stood and walked toward me—slow, controlled steps, like a predator inspecting his prey.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

“Why did you apply for this job?” he asked.

I hesitated. The truth? Because it paid ten thousand a week and I was desperate.

But that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“I’m good at following orders. And I don’t scare easily.”

His gaze dropped down my body. My skin prickled under the heat of it.

“Not easily,” he murmured, his voice low. “But you do scare.”

I didn’t answer. My jaw tensed.

He walked past me, around me, then stopped behind me. Close. Too close. I could feel the heat of his body, the brush of his breath near my ear.

“You’re in debt, Nico. Sixty-eight thousand dollars in back loans. No family. No emergency contact. No current employer. And yet, here you are—alone in a stranger’s penthouse, willing to sign away your freedom for the right price.”

I froze.

“I do my homework,” he continued. “And what I see... is a man who’s out of options.”

I turned to face him. “And what do you want, Mr. Knight?”

He smiled. Cold. Controlled.

“I want obedience. Total. No backtalk. No refusal. You’ll live here, move when I say, protect me when needed—but most importantly, you will not question me.”

My spine stiffened. “Protect you from what?”

“That’s none of your concern.” He stepped back, expression unreadable. “You’ll be paid weekly. You’ll sleep on the same floor. And you’ll be available to me—at all times. Understood?”

That last part lingered in the air like smoke.

I should have walked away.

I should have told him to shove his money and his offer where the sun doesn’t shine.

But instead… I nodded.

“Understood.”

His lips curved into something darker than a smile.

“Good. Then take off your shirt.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Shirt. Now.” His voice didn’t rise, didn’t harden—it didn’t need to. Power pulsed through every word.

“What, is this part of the interview?” I said dryly.

“It’s part of the arrangement. If I’m trusting you to protect my life, I need to see what I’m working with.” His tone remained calm, amused even. “And I always inspect my property.”

My stomach flipped at that word—property.

But instead of backing down… I unbuttoned my shirt. One at a time. Slow. Deliberate.

His eyes stayed locked on me as I peeled it off and tossed it to the floor.

“You’re not shy,” he noted.

“Never said I was.”

He walked up to me again, eyes dragging over my chest, down my abdomen.

“Military tattoos. Scars. Lean muscle. Efficient. No vanity. That’s good.”

Then he did something that made my breath catch—he touched me. Just a single finger, tracing a line down the center of my chest, slow and possessive.

Every part of me went still.

“I’ll expect you to stay close to me at events, during travel, and inside this penthouse,” he said quietly. “Sometimes that means blending in. Sometimes that means distracting others. And sometimes…”

His gaze met mine.

“…it means surrendering.”

“To you?” I asked.

“To the role you’ve agreed to play.”

I swallowed. “What exactly do you expect of me, Ares?”

He stepped even closer, until there was barely a breath between us.

“I expect you to follow my rules. Speak when I allow it. Obey when I demand it. And when I say strip, you ask me if you should kneel too.”

My pulse thundered.

He leaned down, lips grazing my jaw without touching.

“Still interested in the job?”

I looked him dead in the eyes. “What if I told you I don’t kneel for anyone?”

Ares smirked. “Then I’d consider that my next challenge.”

Later that night...

I was shown to my room. If you could call it that.

It wasn’t some spare security suite or bland apartment room. No, it was luxury: black velvet bedding, floor-to-ceiling windows, marble bathroom. Everything screamed you’re not a bodyguard—you’re something else now.

And maybe I was.

My phone was confiscated. Contacts deleted. A strict schedule outlined.

I was on lockdown, in a penthouse with a billionaire who thought he could break me.

Let him try.

Because if Ares Knight wanted control, he’d have to earn it.

But God help me... some twisted part of me wanted to give it to him.

ARES

I watched him on the security monitor long after he left my office.

Nico Rivera.

Former marine. Sharp reflexes. No family. No attachments.

And exactly the kind of man who’d test every one of my rules before he ever bent to them.

Good.

I didn’t hire obedience.

I hired resistance I could conquer.

He moved around the bedroom—his room now—with slow, cautious steps. Like he didn’t trust the walls not to swallow him whole. Smart. I respected caution. It meant he was always alert. Always prepared.

But not even he was prepared for what I had planned.

NICO

The knock came at 11:47 p.m.

Not a security call. Not an emergency.

It was him.

Ares stood at the door in black slacks and nothing else. Shirtless. Hair slightly tousled. Chest bare and sculpted like a sin carved from marble.

He didn't speak. Just looked at me like he already owned me.

“Everything okay?” I asked, keeping my voice calm, even as my pulse did somersaults.

“I want to review your positioning. How you stand. Move. React.”

At midnight?

I opened the door and stepped aside, letting him in. His scent—fresh citrus and smoke—hit me instantly. Expensive and masculine and maddening.

“Let’s begin,” he said, standing in the center of the room. “Disarm me.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

He didn’t wait for my response. He stepped toward me, slow and deliberate. I dropped into a defensive stance instinctively. His body was relaxed, but his eyes were alert—this wasn’t just a test. This was a game.

And I didn’t like losing.

I lunged, going for the pressure point on his shoulder. He dodged effortlessly, grabbing my wrist, twisting. I countered, swept his leg—but he didn’t fall.

He moved too fast. Too fluid.

Eventually, I got him into a chokehold, one arm around his throat, body pinned against the wall.

“Disarmed,” I breathed.

His back arched slightly under my grip, his lips curving.

“Impressive,” he murmured. “But you made one mistake.”

Before I could process it, he flipped us. Now I was the one pinned. My chest hit the wall. His body pressed behind mine. Solid. Heavy. Hot.

“You let your guard down once you were in control,” he whispered at my ear. “Never do that again.”

I sucked in a breath as he leaned in closer, his breath sliding down the back of my neck.

“You need to understand something, Nico.”

I didn’t move.

“I’m not testing your strength,” he said. “I’m testing your surrender.”

His hand ran down my side, stopping at my hip. Fingers digging just hard enough to send a warning.

“You said you don’t kneel,” he murmured. “But eventually… you will.”

I turned my head to meet his eyes.

“And when I do?” I challenged. “Then what?”

He smiled like a wolf.

“Then you’ll beg.”

Later That Night…

I couldn’t sleep.

Not with his hands still burning on my skin.

Not with the memory of his voice whispering commands like they were promises.

I paced my room, heart still thudding like a drum. What the hell was I doing here?

This was no ordinary job. This wasn’t guarding a man.

This was surviving one.

And worse? Part of me… liked the danger.

ARES

At 2:12 a.m., he came to my room.

Didn’t knock. Just walked in.

Nico stood there in a loose T-shirt and sweats, barefoot. His jaw was tight. Like he hated himself for whatever he was about to do.

Perfect.

“What is it?” I asked, lounging in bed, shirtless, sheets rumpled.

He didn’t answer immediately. Just stared.

“I want to make one thing clear,” he said, stepping forward. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Not yet.”

His jaw ticked.

“But if this is going where I think it is,” he added, voice lower now, “I need you to understand—I don’t play games.”

I sat up slowly, letting the sheet slide off my torso.

“I do,” I said. “But I never lose.”

He stopped at the edge of the bed. One more step, and he’d be in my world. My rules.

“So what happens,” he asked, “if I break one of your rules?”

My smile was slow, predatory.

“You’ll be punished.”

Silence stretched. Heat pulsed in the air between us.

Then he took that final step.

And I pulled him down to me.

NICO

I shouldn’t have come.

I told myself that all the way to his bedroom. Told myself again as I stepped past the threshold. And I was still saying it in my head when I let him pull me onto the bed like I belonged there.

But I didn’t stop him.

Ares was already shirtless, the muscles of his chest glowing faintly in the warm light. His skin was cool silk over hard steel. My hands landed on his shoulders, not to push him away—but to steady myself.

To brace for impact.

He didn’t rush. That was the worst part.

He touched me slowly. Possessively. Like I was something expensive he’d just purchased and intended to fully enjoy.

Fingers slid beneath my shirt, pushing it up, grazing my skin. When it cleared over my head and hit the floor, he let out a quiet sound—half approval, half hunger.

“You were made for obedience,” he murmured.

“No,” I said, breath hitching. “I wasn’t.”

He smirked. “You keep telling yourself that.”

Then he kissed me.

God. The man could kiss.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was dominance in motion—his mouth slanting over mine, tongue pushing past my lips, teeth dragging over my bottom lip like he owned it.

I kissed him back with everything I had.

His hand gripped the back of my neck, holding me there. The other skimmed down my chest, fingers spreading wide over my abdomen.

“You’re holding back,” he whispered.

I glared at him. “I’m not one of your playthings.”

He chuckled. “No. You’re better. You fight.”

His palm slid lower, fingers grazing the edge of my waistband. “But I’ll win.”

I grabbed his wrist. “Don’t.”

He froze.

I met his eyes—black and burning—and for a moment, we didn’t move. His breath ghosted against my cheek. His voice dropped, low and sharp.

“When you say no,” he said, “I stop.”

Silence stretched.

Then I let go of his wrist.

He didn’t move.

“You’re still testing me,” he said, watching me.

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe I want to see if you mean what you say.”

He leaned in, mouth brushing mine.

“Test me all you want, Nico. Just know I’ll test you back.”

This time, when his hand slid into my pants, I didn’t stop him.

I let him touch me.

I let him take control.

And somewhere in the mess of sweat and breath and whispered curses, I realized something I didn’t want to admit.

He wasn’t breaking me.

I was letting him.

ARES

He was beautiful like this.

Laid out under me, shirtless, breath ragged, jaw clenched in defiance and desire. His body obeyed even when his mind resisted. His pulse spiked when I bit down on his collarbone. His hips lifted when I palmed him through his pants. His hands fisted the sheets but didn’t push me away.

He wanted this.

He just hated that he did.

I didn’t need words from him.

His body told me everything.

When he came undone, it was with my name gritted between his teeth, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his skin. I didn’t kiss him after—didn’t offer comfort.

I just watched him.

Watched the way his walls cracked a little more.

And the hunger behind his eyes stayed.

Good.

This was only the beginning.

NICO

I didn’t sleep.

Not because I was ashamed.

But because I was furious.

Furious at him for being so calm after what we’d done.

Furious at myself for needing more.

I left his bed at 4 a.m., dressed in silence, heart hammering.

And just before I stepped out, I looked back at him.

He was already watching me.

Lying there in the dark, one hand under his head, those damn eyes locked on mine like he already knew I’d return.

“Go ahead,” he said softly. “Run.”

I didn’t answer.

I just walked out, closing the door behind me.

But I knew he was right.

I’d be back.