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."

CALLA

Later that night, I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

My heart wouldn’t slow down.

Who the hell was Silas?

What did he think I had?

And why did Damien sound so scared?

I heard a knock on my door.

I didn’t answer.

Jace opened it anyway.

He leaned on the doorframe. "So. Still think you're just a guest here?"

I turned to the wall. "Leave me alone."

"He told you, didn’t he?"

"Told me what? That my life is one giant lie? That I’m suddenly everyone's favorite target?"

Jace was quiet. Then, "You better start believing it."

"I didn’t ask for any of this."

"Doesn't matter. You're in it now."

He stepped inside.

"What are you doing?"

"Just making sure you're still breathing."

I rolled my eyes. "Touching. Really."

He smirked. "Careful, princess. The walls have ears."

He turned and walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

I couldn’t sleep.

Again.

Damien’s words wouldn’t stop replaying in my head.

If you leave, you die.

I sat up in bed, heart pounding.

I needed water. Something. Anything to clear my head.

I threw the blanket off and stood. My tank top clung to my skin. My shorts were too thin. I didn’t care.

Everything was doing me. My body was hot.

I tiptoed out of the room and padded down the hallway.

The house was dark.

Too dark.

I passed a window and looked out. Two guards standing still near the gate.

I moved faster. Down the stairs, holding my breath with each creak of the old wood.

In the kitchen, I opened a cabinet and grabbed a glass. The water from the dispenser was cold.

I gulped it down.

That’s when I heard it.

A soft sound. Like cloth brushing the wall.

I turned slowly.

Someone stood near the wine rack.

It was a maid.

But she wasn’t cleaning. She was opening a vent. Looking inside it. Like she was hiding something. Or searching for something.

"Hey," I said.

She jumped.

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing?"

She turned around fast.

Her hand moved.

There was a gun.

My eyes widened.

"Wait—"

She fired.

BANG!

I dropped the glass. Hit the floor hard.

The bullet hit the cupboard behind me. Splinters flew.

My ears rang.

What the fuck?!

I crawled to the counter. Shaking. Heart thumping out of my chest.

Footsteps. Heavy boots. Voices.

"Gunshot! West hall!"

Guards flooded in. Lights flipped on.

"There! She has a weapon!"

I looked up. The maid turned and ran.

Three guards chased her.

I stayed frozen on the floor. Breathing hard.

My ears still buzzed.

Damien rushed in.

Jace followed.

Their eyes locked on me. On the broken glass. On the bullet hole.

"Calla!"

Damien was beside me in seconds. "Are you hit?"

"N-No," I whispered. "She missed."

Jace crouched next to me. "Who was it?"

"A maid. I don’t know her. The she shot at me."

Damien stood. Furious. "Get her. Alive."

Guards disappeared into the halls.

Jace helped me stand. I leaned into him, legs weak.

"You okay?"

"No."

I looked around. The kitchen looked normal again. Like nothing happened.

But my ears still rang.

“Miss Calla, are you hurt?” one of the guards shouted.

“I’m fine!” I snapped, though my hands were shaking.

Guards flooded the kitchen. Boots, guns, orders flying.

“She—she shot at me,” I said quickly. “The maid. She had a gun.”

“Where did she go?”

“She ran. I don’t know where. She aimed at me and I dropped.”

“Secure the back hallway!” someone yelled. “Sweep the east wing!”

Damien’s eyes locked on mine. “Did you see her face?”

“Not clearly. It was fast.”

“What was she doing?” Jace asked, stepping closer. “Why would she pull a gun on you?”

“She was near the wine rack. She was opening something. A vent, I think.”

Damien turned to the guards. “Check that wall. Tear it apart if you have to.”

Jace kept his eyes on me. “You sure she aimed at you? Not just… firing randomly?”

“She looked right at me, Jace.”

“You’re sure.”

“Yes! Why are you questioning me like I did something?”

“Because someone gave her access,” Damien muttered. “And I don’t like surprises.”

Jace crouched beside the vent. One of the guards was already pulling tools from a black case. “You think she was hiding something in there?” he asked.

“Or taking something out,” Damien said. His voice was low, almost quiet. That made it worse.

“Maybe she was paid to plant something,” one of the guards said. “She’s been acting nervous lately. Leaving her post too often.”

“Who gave her clearance to work this floor?” Damien asked.

The guard didn’t answer.

“Find out,” Damien snapped. “Tonight.”

I stayed quiet. My arms were wrapped around myself like that could hold me together.

Jace walked over again, slower this time. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

“Wouldn’t yours be?”

He sighed. “Yeah. Maybe.”

There was a loud crack. The guard near the wall had broken something loose. A metal cover fell to the ground. Dust spilled out. Nothing inside. Just empty space.

“Clean that up,” Damien said. “Then double-check every other vent in this house.”

“What if she planted more than one?” Jace muttered.

I took a shaky breath. “I’m going upstairs.”

“You should stay where we can see you,” Jace said.

“I’m fine.”

I turned and walked past them, heart racing.

I walked out of the kitchen. The hallway was too quiet again. I hated how loud my own breathing sounded. I passed two guards—new ones. They didn’t speak. Just nodded and looked ahead like statues.

The stairs felt too long. My chest hurt. I kept thinking about the gun. The way she aimed at me. Like she knew exactly who I was.

Why would someone want me dead?

Why now?

When I reached the top, I stopped.

Someone was standing outside my room.

Still.

Watching me.

I swallowed hard.

“…Who are you?”