Elena's P.O.V

Maribelle slid a glass across the sticky surface of the small table in our favorite hole-in-the-wall bar.

"You look like you got chewed up by your new boss," she said, studying me.

I swirled the amber liquid and took a gulp that burned all the way down. I wanted to cry.

"Correction-chewed up, smacked, and then spit out."

Her brows shot up. "Smacked?"

"Long story. Short version-your favorite elusive billionaire knew how to make an entrance. And an exit." I leaned back in my chair, pressing the rim of the glass to my lips. "Dax is my new boss, Belle."

"WHAT?"

"Mhm," I nodded.

"The same Dax from that night? Are you sure it was him?"

"I just left his office, Belle. Dax and Mr. Valiente are the same person."

"Wow..."

"And get this-he was the reason I hadn't been able to find a job. According to him, I could only ever work for him."

Maribelle whistled low. "That's. diabolical. Sexy, but diabolical."

"Don't use the S-word. I'm trying to hate him." I set the glass down a little harder than necessary. "I need this job. You know what my bank account looks like-Jack's school fees are due next month, and I can't pay rent and school on wishes. But I can't work for Dax."

She tilted her head. "And yet, your face is doing that thing it does when you think about him."

"What thing?"

"That thing where you look like you're about to roll your eyes but then remember you liked it."

I stared into my drink. The ice cubes clinked together, mocking me. She wasn't wrong. My pulse still sped up when I remembered the smack of his hand on my butt, the low rumble of his voice, the way he looked at me like he owned me. And I hated that I liked it.

"Oh God. I can't let him find out about Jack," I realized sharply. "He's powerful enough to make me vanish if he wants to. Jack was my whole world. I had no leverage against a billionaire, Belle."

Maribelle leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Then we make sure he never finds out. I'll help. We'll keep Jack out of sight, keep your schedules separate. We've done harder things, Lena."

I nodded, but the knot in my stomach didn't loosen. This wasn't just a normal boss with a big ego. This was Dax-the man I had slept with five years ago, the reason my parents disowned me. And the man I still wanted to sleep with.

"What am I going to do?" I cried, lightly banging my head against the table. "What does he even want?"

"That, my friend, is a question you'll have to ask him," Belle answered, giggling.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Are you laughing at me?"

She cleared her throat, still giggling. "Of course not. But you have to agree it's a bit funny." She laughed even louder. "Only you would sleep with a man who would pull something like this. Only you."

I shook my head, looking around. The disco sign flickered above the hallway. My bladder pressed painfully against my lower stomach. I pushed my chair back. "I'll be right back. Don't let anyone steal my drink."

Maribelle saluted me with her glass.

The hallway smelled faintly of bleach and bad cologne. The music from the bar thudded against the walls, muffled. I pushed the bathroom door open, but before I could step inside, a shadow moved behind me.

"Where you going, sweetheart?"

I froze. Three guys blocked the narrow hall, all in matching leather jackets.

Gang members.

"I need to use the restroom," I said flatly, moving to step around them.

One of them shifted, blocking my path. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be wandering alone." His gaze dragged down my body in a way that made my skin itch.

"Lucky for me, I'm not," I said. "My friend's waiting right out there, and she owns a taser."

They laughed, the sound crawling over me. One leaned in close enough for me to catch the sour tang of stale whiskey. "We can keep you company instead."

My hand tightened around my phone. I could call Maribelle. Or scream. My eyes flicked toward the exit, calculating the distance, the odds of getting past them. Not great.

Then something shifted in the air-subtle at first. The hallway seemed to shrink, the oxygen heavier, as though it knew something dangerous had entered.

A shadow stretched along the wall under the flickering light.

Dax stepped into view.

He was still in the same black suit from that morning, but his collar was open now, no tie. His eyes darkened as they dragged over me-calm, but with a tension in his hands, fingers twitching, that told me this was the kind of calm that came before a storm ripped the roof off.

"Move," he said, voice low, dangerous.

The men laughed, but it died quickly. Dax didn't raise his voice. He didn't rush. He just kept walking, and each measured step made the air feel heavier.

One tried to speak. "Listen, man-"

"I said," Dax's eyes cut to him, cold enough to freeze bone, "move."

The tallest one backed up first. The others followed, muttering curses. Dax didn't even watch them leave-his gaze was locked on me.

"I must say," I told him, keeping my voice steady even though my pulse was tap-dancing in my throat, "you have a talent for showing up like you own the room, Mr. Valiente."

"I own more than the room," he said, stepping closer.

I took a step back, bumping into the wall. "Thanks for that, but I didn't need you playing bodyguard."

His eyes darkened. "You did if you were walking around without me."

I snorted. "Newsflash-I've been doing that for five years and somehow survived without your supervision."

His gaze dropped to my mouth, and for a second, the tension between us shifted-sharp and electric, humming with something that wasn't anger.

"I told you, Elena," he said quietly, "everything about you is my business."

"Then consider me a hostile takeover," I said, forcing my feet to move past him toward the bar.

I didn't make it two steps.

An arm wrapped around my waist, and suddenly my world flipped. My stomach hit a solid wall of muscle, and I was dangling over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

"Dax!" I pounded my fists against his back. "Put me down!"

"No." The word was calm. Final.

"This is illegal!" I kicked my legs, but his arm locked across my thighs like steel. "You've got a problem, you know that? A serious control problem!"

"Then stop making me prove I have it," he said, striding for the exit.

Heads turned as we passed through the bar. He didn't glance at anyone. My hair swung into my face, my skin heating from embarrassment and-annoyingly-something else.

I smacked his back again, harder. "Dax Valiente, I swear-"

He stopped just outside in the drizzle, then delivered a sharp smack to my backside. The sound cracked through the night air.

I froze.

"That," he said, voice low and deliberate, "is for thinking you can walk away from me."

My face burned hotter than the sting on my skin. "You are insane."

"Maybe," he said, carrying me toward his waiting car, "but you're still not getting down."

Elena's P.O.V

If kidnapping were a sport, Mr. Valiente would've taken gold.

One minute we were outside the bar. The next, my feet left the ground, my shoulder jammed into his side like a sack of potatoes.

I pounded a fist against his back. "You can't just-"

"Yes, I can."

His voice remained calm like my opinion was a pretty ornament-nice to look at, useless in practice.

City lights blurred past as he carried me to a black SUV. The driver didn't even blink-just opened the door and shut it behind us like this was a normal day for him.

"Put me down. I have a life to get back to."

"No. You have me to get back to."

The arrogance was suffocating. I opened my mouth to argue but stopped when his gaze caught mine.

That look-like I was already undressed-burned straight through my clothes.

The rest of the ride was silent, except for my heartbeat, which refused to mind its own business.

The elevator doors of his penthouse slid open to a wall of glass and a view of the city that made my chest tighten. His place wasn't just big-it was the kind of space you saw in magazines, all clean lines and expensive air.

"You could fit my whole apartment in your kitchen," I muttered,"

"You'll be moving in soon," he said casually.

I let out a startled laugh," That's not happening."

In three strides, he was in front of me. His hand gripped my waist, tilting my chin. One hand gripped my waist, the other tipped my chin up. His mouth brushed mine once-light, testing-and then the dam broke.

Heat. Teeth. The taste of him stealing my balance.

I told myself to push him away. To remember why this was dangerous. But his hands knew exactly where to touch, and my body wasn't listening.

When he pulled back, his eyes were feral. "Mine."

"You wish."

"I don't need to wish." His voice dipped darker. "I could fuck your brains out right now and still have you begging for more."

"You know what they say about men who talk big."

He caged me against the wall, black eyes- wait black?-locked on mine. How is his eyes black?

A vicious smile cut across his face. "You're about to find out how wrong you are."

He moved so fast I didn't get the chance to draw another breath before he yanked me against him and crushed his mouth against mine. And my world, as I knew it, shattered into a million pieces.

.

"You think you can mouth off and walk away? You're fucking mine, Elena."

I hated how much I loved it. My fists bunched in his shirt, dragging him closer. A moan escaped when his hips pressed into me.

"Can't get enough of me, can you?" he whispered, tugging my hair.

"Fuck you."

"I already know that's what you want, sweetheart." He closed his teeth around my bottom lip and tugged hard enough to send another twin frisson of pain and pleasure spiraling through my body. "No need to beg for it."

I shoved him back. "I will never beg you for anything."

"Don't be too sure." His gaze swept over me. "I bet you're soaking for me."

"Nice try. I'm not taking the bait."

"Scared?"

"Can't take a hint?"

We collided again-harder, more desperate. Clothes fell to the floor in a trail away from the living room.

"Get on your hands and knees."

"Make me."

Two strides and I was on the ground, wrists pinned, his fingers between my legs.

"Just like I guessed," he murmured. "Soaking."

"Beg for it, Elena." He curled his finger and hit my most sensitive spot, eliciting another moan, before he slowly dragged it out and shoved it back in. His breathing hardened. "Beg me to fuck you. To make you come all over my cock like you so desperately crave."

"You wish." My nails dug into my palms. "My vibrator can do a much better job than you."

He laughed, shoved in another finger. Pleasure coiled in my spine-then he yanked away.

"You bastard."

"You know what to do if you want to come."

"Scared you can't live up to your promise?"

His hand wrapped my throat, cutting my breath before he loosened. "You belong to me," he growled lowly.

"I. do. not. belong. to. you."

"I was going to take it easy on you. But now. We'll have to do this the hard way."

I didn't get a chance to respond before he slammed into me from behind with a vicious thrust. A scream ripped from my throat at the painful stretch of his size and the roughness with which he fucked me. Tears sprang to my eyes, but my scream eventually faded into a string of mindless whimpers and squeals as he pounded into me.

"Go. To. Hell," I panted. It was the only sentence I could manage before another sharp thrust scrambled my thoughts.

His dark chuckle reverberated through me. "You belong to me, Elena." He gave my hair another sharp tug. "And God help me, I'm never fucking letting you go."

Before I could untangle the meaning behind his words, he flipped me around so I was on my back. He kept his hand on my throat, pressing me into the ground while he propped my leg on his shoulder. At this angle, he hit spots inside of me I didn't even know existed.

Satisfaction bloomed on my lips at his pained hiss when I raked my nails down his back. In retaliation, he fucked me even harder until our groans and the furious slap of our bodies against each other were the only sounds in the dark space

"Beg me, Elena." He reached between us and stroked my clit, sending another sharp burst of pleasure through my body. "Tell me how much you need to come." He scraped his teeth against my neck and sucked hard. "How much you need me to make you come."

Normally, I would make a joke about self-esteem issues, but I was too far gone to think clearly.

"No." My refusal sounded weak to my own ears. I was too desperate for relief. It was only a matter of time before I caved, but I sure as hell could put up a fight before I did.

"No?" He eased his thrusts, and another scream of frustration welled in my throat.

Fucking sadistic asshole.

"I hate you," I moaned. I rolled my hips, seeking the friction I needed, to no avail.

"I'm counting on it." His eyes glittered down at me. "Use your words, Elena, or we'll be here all night."

Don't say it.

He slid into me with torturous slowness again. I couldn't hold back my pathetic whimpers as he played with me, edging me over and over until I was about to lose my damn mind.

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it-

"Please." I choked out the word.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come." The words faded into a moan as Mr. Valiente increased his speed.

"You can do better than that." Sweat gleamed on his skin, and taut muscles corded his neck. Holding back tortured him as much as it did me, but I couldn't take much satisfaction from that when I was on the knife's edge of insanity.

An electric spike of sensation speared through me when he hit that spot.

"Mr. Valiente, please," I sobbed, not caring anymore. "I can't-I need-please."

Me saying his name must've snapped something inside him, because he finally stopped teasing and started fucking me with full force again.

"You feel so fucking good," he growled. "You love my cock wrecking that tight little pussy,don't you?"

"Yes." I gasped. "Yes, God, please. I'm going to.I'm.oh God, oh fuck!"

My knees buckled when his hands slid down, gripping my thighs and hauling me up against him. The hard press of him left no question about what he wanted-or how badly.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, my fists bunching in his jacket. He slammed me back into his lips, swallowing my cry, his hips grinding into mine with punishing precision.

"Who do you belong to, Elena?" he growled against my lips.

I shook my head, breathless.

His black eyes darkened even more, a storm threatening to swallow me whole. His hand slid under my shirt, fingers splaying against my stomach before moving higher, claiming skin like it belonged to him.

"You're fucking mine, Elena," he repeated, voice like gravel, like a promise.

When I still didn't answer, he growled low in his throat and pressed his thigh between mine, forcing a gasp out of me. The friction was unbearable, the heat flooding my core.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, his tone dipping into something almost tender but no less dangerous, "I'll drag it out of you if I have to."

He stilled for a while, and I could no longer take it. "Yours. I'm yours." I didn't even know I was yelling, but the satisfaction in his eyes made it all worth it.

"I.I'm yours. I belong to you. Only you." My voice slowed down to desperate whimpers.

He started to move again, and I screamed as white-hot pleasure blazed through me. Every thought and memory burnt away, leaving behind only mind-numbing pleasure. He kept fucking me, and another orgasm chased the first one, followed by another. They rolled on and on, wringing me out until I was little more than a boneless heap.

"I missed you so much baby." His voice was low, dangerous, the kind of tone that made heat curl in my stomach again even though I swore I had nothing left to give.

He came closer, leaning one knee onto the bed until I could feel the heat of him searing into my skin. His fingers trailed, feather-light, from my ankle up my calf, then paused just above my knee-lingering, teasing, like he knew exactly how much that touch could undo me.

"You think I'm done with you?" His mouth curved in a dark smirk. "Sweetheart. that was only the first round."

I swallowed hard, my body torn between curling away and arching toward him. His eyes were still that impossible, bottomless black, but I was too dazed, too raw to question it. All I could do was hold his gaze and try to remember how to breathe.

---

The warm hear of sunlight on my face woke me. The other half of the bed was warm but empty.

He'd left.

Of course he left. I scanned the room for my clothes, but something else caught my eye first-a pair of red heels under the dresser that were not mine. A silk scarf of the same color draped over the chair. They were not mine either.

A perfume bottle sat on the dresser along with other feminine skin and hair care products-some I was familiar with and some I wasn't. The pieces danced together in my head like a puzzle I didn't want to finish. My stomach twisted.

Of course he had another woman. Men like Mr. Valiente didn't do exclusive. They collected. And I'd been stupid enough to think I was the exception.

I dressed quickly. Getting this job would have been my one shot at rent, Jack's school fees, groceries. But I couldn't let him get close again.

He didn't even know about Jack. And if I had sense, he never would.

The elevator ride down felt longer than the night itself. I gripped my bag tighter.

I'd put an ocean between us before I let him get another inch closer. He can keep his damned job.