Calla's POV

I woke up with a stiff neck.

My head hurt.

The red camera light was still blinking in the corner.

Creepy.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand. Still had a few bars of signal. I opened the group chat.

CALLA: you guys. this house is so weird.

MAYA: what happened??

CALLA: doors are locked. windows too. staff keep staring at me like i’m a ghost

ZOE: i told you not to move in. rich men are weird

CALLA: stepbrother is a creep. stepdad is worse.

MAYA: need us to pull up?

I laughed a little. God, I missed them already.

CALLA: lol maybe. just give me a few days. i’ll figure it out

I dropped the phone on the bed and stretched. My T-shirt rode up over my hips. I didn’t care.

I headed out of the room barefoot.

The hallway was empty. I tried the next door. Locked. Next one too. And the next.

What the hell.

Downstairs, I passed by two guards standing near the front entrance. Suits, earpieces, guns under their jackets.

My stomach turned.

What kind of house needed armed guards inside?

I walked faster. Toward the kitchen.

And walked right into Jace.

He was leaning against the fridge, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair messy like he just rolled out of someone’s bed.

He looked me over once, slow.

"Morning, thighs."

I groaned. “Shut up.”

He pushed off the fridge, came closer. “You always this grumpy before breakfast?”

“I’m grumpy because it’s breakfast and you’re in it.”

He smirked. “Flirting already? Damn. You work fast.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a glass.

He took it from my hand.

“Hey—”

“Let me see your phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone.”

“No.”

He stepped closer. “It’s house rules.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not in charge.”

“Technically, no.” He smiled. “But I’m the only one who plays rough.”

“Back off, Jace.”

He reached into my back pocket, fast.

I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

But he grabbed my phone anyway.

“You—!”

I jumped at him, trying to snatch it back.

He caught my wrists, turned us, and slammed me up against the cold kitchen wall.

My breath caught.

His hand pinned mine above my head.

His body pressed into mine.

“Still wanna fight me?” he whispered.

I could barely think.

His body was hot.

I stared at him. Breathing hard.

He let go.

I stumbled back.

He tossed the phone into a drawer. “You won’t need it.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He just smiled and walked out.

I stood there, shaking.

My thighs were clenched so tight I felt the burn.

I hated him.

I hated how he made me feel.

Breakfast was in the dining room.

Damien sat at the head. A black shirt, sleeves rolled.

I came in and headed straight for the farthest seat.

“Come here,” he said.

“No.”

He stood. Pulled out the chair next to him.

My heart skipped.

“I said come here.”

I walked over slowly. Sat beside him.

He watched me like he was reading my thoughts.

“You’ve already broken three rules,” he said.

“Maybe you should write them down next time.”

“You’re not safe here.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t see anyone coming for me.”

His eyes sharpened. “You will.”

We ate in silence.

Scrambled eggs. Toast. Fruit.

I didn’t taste a thing.

Then—

BANG.

The door opened fast.

A tall man walked in. Dark suit. Red tie. Sharp cheekbones.

Damien stood immediately. His voice dropped cold. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

The man smiled. “Nice place you’ve got, Damien.”

I looked between them.

The man’s eyes landed on me.

And stayed.

“What do you want, Silas?” Damien said.

Silas didn’t answer. He looked me up and down, then turned to Damien.

“You keeping pets now?”

My stomach flipped.

“I said what do you want?” Damien asked again.

Silas walked over to the table. Picked up a grape. Rolled it between his fingers. Then looked back at me.

“You look like her,” he said quietly.

“Like who?” I asked.

He smiled. “Never mind.”

Damien moved in front of me. Blocked his view. “Out. Now.”

Silas didn’t argue. Just popped the grape into his mouth and walked out like he owned the place.

I stared after him.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

Damien sat back down. “No one you need to worry about.”

“He looked at me like he knew me.”

“He didn’t.”

“Then why did he say—”

“Enough.”

I stood up. “I want my phone.”

“No.”

“I want to leave.”

He looked up at me, calm. “This is your home now.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You’ll stay until I say otherwise.”

My chest tightened. My skin burned.

“Are you keeping me here?” I asked.

Damien didn’t answer.

I stormed out of the dining room.

Jace was leaning against the wall, of course.

“Enjoy breakfast?” he asked.

I didn’t speak.

He smirked.

“You like being watched, don’t you?”

I froze.

“What did you say?”

He stepped closer. “The way you looked when I pinned you? Don’t lie. You liked it.”

I shoved him. Hard. “Fuck you.”

“You’d cry my name if you ever did.”

I turned and ran upstairs.

Slamming my bedroom door. Pressing my back to it.

I didn’t cry.

"I need air," I said to the empty room.

I stared at the red blinking light in the corner. Same damn camera.

I pulled the blanket off and climbed out of bed.

I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Hot water hit my skin. I closed my eyes.

I thought about Jace.

His cocky smirk. His messy hair. The way his body pinned me to the wall.

Then Damien. His sharp jaw. Cold voice. Grey eyes like a storm.

They were both hot. Annoying. Dangerous.

"Ugh, shut up," I muttered and smacked my own forehead. "You're insane."

But my thighs clenched anyway.

I got dressed slowly. Tight black jeans. A black tank top. No bra.

I walked out of the room and down the hall.

Two guards stood by the front door.

I didn’t look at them.

I pushed the door open.

Cool air hit my skin. Finally.

I walked outside. Down the stone steps. Onto the grass.

I took a breath.

“Stop right there,” a voice called.

I didn’t stop.

A hand grabbed my arm. Another grabbed the other.

“Let go!”

“Miss Calla, you’re not allowed out alone.”

“Get your hands off me!”

They dragged me back toward the house.

I kicked. Screamed.

It was no use.

CALLA

“I told you not to break the rules.”

“They’re your rules, not mine.”

He turned toward me.

“You think you’re free here?”

“I’m not your prisoner.”

“You are until I say otherwise.”

I stood. “You can’t keep me here.”

“You walked out without telling anyone. We have enemies, Calla. You could’ve been taken.”

“Maybe that would’ve been better.”

He walked closer. Slowly. “You think they’d treat you better than I do?”

I said nothing.

“Fine. You want consequences?”

He nodded to the guard near the door. “Bring her to the office. She’s sitting through every meeting today.”

“What?”

“And she’ll read aloud. Every code, every name. You’ll learn what it means to be in this house.”

“You’re sick.”

“No,” he said calmly. “I’m in charge.”

The office was long.

Men sat around it, all in suits. Eyes on me.

I sat beside Damien. He handed me a thick binder.

“Start from page one.”

I opened it. Cartel names. Deals. Codewords.

My hands shook.

“Read,” he said.

I cleared my throat. “Section A. Shipment routes. Alpha 4 to Sector 12…”

My voice cracked.

Damien didn’t look at me.

He let me squirm.

My lips trembled as I read the names of people who’d probably been killed, places burned, deals made in blood.

Jace leaned against the wall in the back. Watching me. Smiling.

After the meeting, I stumbled out into the hall.

My head was spinning.

I turned a corner and slammed into someone.

Jace.

Of course.

“Easy,” he said, gripping my arms.

“Don’t touch me.”

He didn’t let go.

Instead, he slipped his fingers into my hair.

I froze.

His mouth brushed my ear.

“You really think you’re above us?” he whispered.

I swallowed hard.

“I hate you,” I said.

He smiled. “Good. That makes it more fun.”

He let go and walked off, hands in his pockets.

I stood there, heart racing.

I decided to turn around when I heard voices.

"You’re sure he’s not bluffing?" That was Damien’s voice.

I froze by the bedroom door.

Another voice answered, rough and deeper. “Silas doesn’t bluff. He wants land… or the girl.”

Silas?

I moved closer, careful not to make the floor creak.

“She's not part of any trade,” Damien said, sharp.

“You sure? He asked for her by name.”

There was a pause.

Then the sound of a glass shattering.

I jumped.

What the hell?

I backed away, heart pounding.

I couldn’t stay here.

I grabbed my backpack and stuffed in what I could. My wallet. A water bottle. The burner phone Jace hadn’t taken.

I opened the window—not locked this time.

I climbed out and dropped into the garden below. My legs stung from the landing.

I didn’t care.

I ran across the grass, toward the garage. I knew there were cars. Maybe one had keys inside. Maybe I could—

“Calla.”

I froze.

Jace.

He stood in front of the black SUV, one hand in his pocket, the other holding an apple.

He bit into it slowly, chewing like he had all the time in the world.

“I was wondering how long it’d take before you tried something stupid.”

I turned, ready to run, but he was faster.

His arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me back.

“Let go of me!”

“No.”

“Jace—”

He pushed me up against the SUV, his body pressing into mine.

“You really thought you could escape me?” he said, voice low, rough.

“Get off me!” I shoved at him, but he didn’t move.

His hand slid down to grip my thigh.

“You want to run? Fine. But tell me first—why are your thighs clenching every time I touch you?”

“I’m not—”

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“You are. You like this. You’re just too proud to admit it.”

I opened my mouth to yell, to deny it—but he slid his fingers between my legs.

Right over the seam of my jeans.

I gasped.

“Shut up,” he said. “Let your body talk.”

His fingers rubbed slow. Pressed hard. Back and forth, right there.

I clutched his jacket, my hands shaking. I didn’t know if I wanted to pull him closer or push him away.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his lips brushing my ear.

“N-No I’m not,” I lied.

He pushed harder.

My hips bucked without thinking.

“Keep lying, baby,” he growled. “But your pussy’s crying for me.”

“Mmmnh—ah—fuck—”

He popped my button open. My zipper came halfway down.

Then his hand slid inside. Warm fingers. Skin on skin.

“Jace—wait—”

His fingers slipped through my folds like he owned me. Two slid in deep.

I gasped. My back hit the car door.

“Still gonna pretend you don’t like this?” he growled.

I shook my head, breathless. “I—I hate you.”

“Then hate me while I make you cum.”

He curled his fingers inside me, thumb rubbing up top—right on that spot.

I moaned. “Ahh—ahhh—Jace—f-fuck—”

My knees shook.

“You like my fingers better, don’t you?”

His mouth went straight to my chest.

He sucked hard.

“Ah—ahhh—Jace—”

His tongue flicked my nipple through my bra. Then he pulled the cup down and took it into his mouth.

“Mmmhh—fuck—” I moaned, my head falling back.

“So soft,” he groaned. “These tits—fuck—made for me.”

He sucked harder, teeth grazing, tongue circling slow.

I was panting, legs wrapped around his waist, grinding without shame.

He moved them faster. Deeper. Rougher.

I couldn’t hold it.

“Mmmhh—ahh—ah—Jace—yes—yes—yes—”

It hit me hard. Fast. My whole body shuddered.

I bit my lip, trying to hold it in—but I cried out anyway.

“F-fuck! Jace!”

He didn’t stop until I was shaking.

Then he slowly pulled his hand out of my jeans—and brought his fingers to his mouth.

He sucked them clean, eyes locked on mine.

“You taste like fuckin’ sin,” he said, voice deep and raw.

I could barely breathe, legs jelly.

He scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing.

“Put me down,” I whispered, weak.

“No.” He pressed his mouth to my ear.

He carried me back to the house.

The door opened.

Damien stood there, arms crossed.

He saw me. My flushed face. My unzipped jeans. Jace’s hand on my thigh.

He didn’t speak.

Jace walked past him without blinking.

He already knew.

Jace didn’t flinch.

He carried me inside like I was already his.

And maybe I was.

God help me.

CALLA

“I like the dress,” Jace said from the bottom of the stairs.

I didn’t stop walking.

‘Don’t think about yesterday, don't think’

“Too short for this house,” he added, his voice teasing.

“I wasn’t dressing for you,” I muttered, passing him.

“You sure?” he called after me. “'Cause your thighs say otherwise.”

I flipped him off without turning around.

I smiled at the guard near the door. “What’s your name?”

He hesitated. “Luca.”

“Nice to meet you, Luca.”

“Calla,” Damien said sharply.

I turned. “What? I'm not allowed to say hello now?”

He didn’t answer. Just kept watching.

Later that afternoon, one of the guards found me in the garden.

“Boss wants to see you. Office.”

Of course he does.

I walked in slowly. Damien was behind his desk, arms folded.

“Sit.”

I sat.

“No. On your knees.”

I blinked. “What?”

He stepped around the desk, stood in front of me. “Kneel.”

“I’m not some dog—”

“You want to act like a brat, you’ll learn what it means to kneel. I’m not asking again.”

I hesitated. Then dropped to my knees, fists clenched.

“Good girl,” he said softly.

I looked up. “What now? You gonna humiliate me?”

He crouched in front of me, eye-level. “You think submission is weakness?”

“You tell me.”

“No. Submission is power. Knowing when to give in. Choosing who to kneel for. That’s power.”

His voice was low.

He touched my chin. “Don’t test me, Calla.”

“I already am.”

He stood. “You can go.”

I stood slowly, brushing my knees off. “Is this how you treat all your guests?”

He didn’t answer. Just watched me leave.

I didn’t know why I was crying.

Maybe I did.

Everything here was twisted. Controlled. And yet… I kept reacting. To both of them.

“Hey.”

I looked up.

Jace stood over me. He crouched and wiped my cheek with his thumb.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer. Just leaned closer, kissed the curve of my neck. Slow. Gentle.

Then he stood and walked away.

I touched my neck where his lips had been.

I hated him. I hated this place.

But my body…

It didn’t hate anything.

I stood up and went to the room.

I tossed and turned. My body was restless.

Then I dreamed.

I was on my knees.

Not in Damien’s office.

Somewhere darker. Somewhere hotter.

I felt him before I saw him—Damien. Behind me. His hands smooth and strong as they gripped my waist.

“You wanted to test me?” his voice was low, deadly calm.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

He leaned down, breath hot against my ear. “Then why are you dripping for me, Calla?”

I gasped as his hand slipped between my thighs. Rough. Knowing. He didn’t rush.

He owned.

Then he was gone.

Replaced.

Jace now.

He dragged me back by the hair, made me look up at him.

“You act like a brat, but this is what you want.” He smirked, kneeling in front of me. “On your knees. Beg.”

“I won’t.”

“You already are.”

He pulled my legs open, fingers slipping inside me without warning. I moaned—shocked by how good it felt. How wet I already was.

“I could make you scream,” he whispered. “But you’d like that too much.”

Damien stood behind me again.

Jace in front.

Their hands moved like they’d done this before. As if they’d planned it.

One gripped my throat. The other slid fingers deeper.

“You were never free,” Damien said.

“You were always ours,” Jace added.

I arched between them.

Torn.

Shaking.

Pleasure spiraling.

I opened my mouth to scream—

Then I woke up.

Sweating.

Soaked.

Breathing hard, hand already between my thighs. I froze.

“What the hell is wrong with me…”

Just then, there was a knock.

"We need to talk. Now."

I sat up in bed, pulling the blanket tighter around me. "About what?"

He didn’t answer.

The door opened before I gave permission. Of course.

He walked in, still in his dark suit, hair perfect like always. His eyes went straight to my face, then lower—to my flushed cheeks, the sweat on my chest.

He knew.

"It’s about Silas."

I frowned. "Who the hell is Silas? The guy who came the other day? That creepy one in the black suit?"

Damien didn’t blink. "Yes."

"Okay, and? What does that have to do with me?"

He stayed silent for a second too long.

"Damien."

"He wants you."

I stared at him. "What? What do you mean wants me? For what?"

"Revenge. He’s a rival. One of the most dangerous men alive."

I scoffed. "Why would he want me? I’m nobody. I have nothing."

Damien walked toward the window and pulled the curtain aside.

"You think this is normal? These guards, the rules, the locked doors—you think I do that for fun?"

"No. I think you're insane."

"Your mother tried to keep you away from this world. She thought she could hide you. But Silas found out about you anyway. He thinks you know something. Or maybe he just wants to hurt me. Either way, he won't stop."

I stood. "This is messed up. I want to leave."

"You can't."

"You don't own me!"

Damien turned around, slow. His eyes were cold. "Calla. If you step one foot out of this house unprotected, you will die. Do you understand? Silas won't just take you. He'll make a statement. Your body will be found in pieces."

My mouth went dry. I opened it to say something, but nothing came out.

"You think you're safe out there? You think the world is kind? You're marked. Whether you like it or not."

"Because of you," I snapped. "Because of this insane life I didn’t choose."

Damien's jaw clenched. "Neither did your mother."

"Don’t bring her into this."

"She knew the risks. She married me anyway."

"Why didn’t she ever tell me?"

"To protect you. And maybe because she was ashamed."

My chest tightened. I turned away. "This is bullshit."

"You’re not going anywhere, Calla. And if you try again, I won’t be nice next time."

"Nice? Locking me in rooms? Bugging my space? Threatening me? That’s your definition of nice?"

"You’re alive, aren’t you?"

"Barely."

He walked up behind me, close enough to feel his breath. "I’m not your enemy. But if you keep testing me... I won't save you from the ones who are."