"I guess from how you look at me right now, you thought about me all night."

"I didn't," she replied sharply.

"You didn't..."

He swallowed the remaining space between them. "Should I find out if you did?" he whispered into her ear before dragging her after him.

"Let me go!!!"

"Let me-"

He hauled her into his office, taking off his leather gloves. He tugged off his coat and tossed it onto the nearest table.

"No one should enter!"

His voice rang out, and everyone who followed him paused as the door closed with a loud bang. He folded the sleeves of his shirt and shrugged off his jacket.

Her heart skipped-

Pounding harder and faster as he loomed over her in his full height, his hands resting on his waist.

"Shall I start?" he said, leaning over. One hand went behind her back, gripping the couch. Veins stood out along his arms as he tightened his hold, his gaze fixed on her.

"How could you not miss me after what happened between us last night? Steamy-from that club to the room... and-"

His eyes trailed over her before his hand brushed her pants. "Why did you wear pants today? All your figures out for these hungry alphas to wolf at?" he asked, narrowing his gaze.

"And did you look this good for me?" he continued with a smirk. "A skimpy top that shows off your sexy stomach, with my hickey all over it. Your neck..."

He touched the patches where his hands had strangled her yesterday, sitting prettily like a coil around her throat.

"You didn't even bother to cover it. Did you look this good to entice me and see how much I'd get turned on just by seeing you?"

"I didn't... didn't do this for you."

"Then did you do this to get the alphas to wolf after you? Wanting you while you spread-"

He forced his hand into her pants, and she stiffened.

"...your pheromones like flowers, wanting them to swarm over you like a bee."

She shuddered under her breath. Her body betrayed her again. Her eyes closed as she inhaled, hating the taste of him in the air she breathed.

"See? Your legs are shaking, and you said you didn't miss me."

"S... stop..."

"When you talk like that," he whispered, "when you sound like that, you mean I should stop."

His hand pushed further. "I should stop when you're moving your hips to my touch?"

"Stop owning... owning my body like it's yours-"

"It's mine," he interrupted. "I'm the one who was stupid enough to let you walk free, and that's why you're coming back to me damaged."

He clicked his tongue, disgust briefly creasing his brow, before kissing her cheek and trailing his hand over her jaw. She shifted slowly, trying to avoid the burn of his heat against her skin.

Her white skin slowly turned red-redder than ketchup.

"How many wolves slept with you?" he asked.

"Ahhh..." she moaned before she could stop herself, covering her mouth.

"Answer me."

He pulled her hands away. "How many wolves? Which one took your first time?"

He planted his teeth between her neck and shoulder.

"Ahhh!!!"

She screamed, tears of pleasure slipping from her eyes.

"I want to know the wolf who dared take what was supposed to be mine."

His movements quickened, adding another finger, increasing the pressure until her voice broke.

"Tell me," he said, staring straight into her face. "Who dared take it away from you?"

Her eyes rolled back. She gagged with sensation. He buried his lips into hers, stealing the breath she was losing. She wasn't just shaking-she was wrecked, from her hair down to the tips of her toes. Beads of sweat crawled from every nook and cranny of her body.

"There's an AC in this room," he said, pulling away. "And you're sweating like this."

She shook, saliva clinging to the corners of her mouth, her eyes losing focus and forcing itself to stay steady. 

"Now," he said, squatting in front of her, his heavy frame still clouding her entire presence, "are you ready to talk?"

"What?"

"Which would you prefer to answer?" he asked, still squatting.

"The first person to have you... or whether you missed me."

She swallowed. She was scared of saying one thing wrong. She was scared of the expression he wore on his face, like he was ready for another mischief if she didn't answer him right. 

"What would you do to him if you knew?"

His lips curved. "Why should he live to see the next day?"

He rose, looming over her again. She tried to clutch the fluffy couch, but it offered no grip.

No escape.

"Is he, by any chance, Devon?"

Her eyes shot up immediately.

He caressed her sweaty face with unsettling gentleness. "Tell me-is it that beta I saw?"

Just what doesn't he know? 

How did he know Devon?

He must've known every cranies and cronies in her life. 

She exhaled, fear threading her voice.

"I missed you," she breathed. "I missed you so much."

He paused, then began to laugh-slow, deliberate cackles that sent shivers down her spine.

"I know you did," he said, rising to his full height.

He turned and strolled toward his large table. Carved from dark polished wood, there were neatly stacked files bearing security seals on top of it, a sleek laptop sat closed beside a leather-bound planner, a silver pen aligned perfectly at the edge. A handgun rested within easy reach. Nothing was out of order- she noticed. 

He reached for a brown envelope, pulled out a document, and turned back toward her.

She averted her eyes.

He returned, sat on the couch opposite hers, and tossed the document onto the table.

"Sign it."

"What?"

Her hands trembled as she picked it up. Her eyes skimmed the pages, widening. Her fingers curled around the paper.

She crushed it into a ball and hurled it at him.

"Bastard!!!" she screamed.

The crumpled document bounced off his chest and fell to the floor.

He didn't flinch. Didn't move. Just watched her with those cold grey eyes like she'd done exactly what he expected.

"Feel better?" he asked.

She was shaking. Her whole body trembled with rage she couldn't contain anymore. "You think you can just-just own me? Like I'm some object you can buy?"

"I already bought you."

The words hit like a slap.

"Fifteen years ago," he continued, leaning back against the couch. "Your father sold you to me before he died. Did you forget?"

Her breath caught. No. No, she hadn't forgotten. She'd buried it. Shoved it so deep into the back of her mind that sometimes she could pretend it never happened.

But it did.

She was ten years old when her father signed those papers. When he looked at her with hollow eyes and told her she had to be strong. That this was the only way.

"That contract is void," she said, hating how her voice cracked. "I was a child. It doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything." He picked up the crumpled paper from the floor, smoothing it out against his knee. "But if you want to argue legality, we can. I have lawyers who'd love to tear apart whatever defense you think you have."

She clenched her fists. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to sign."

"Why?" The question burst out of her. "You already have everything. My father's company, his money, his life. What more could you possibly want?"

He stood. Walked toward her with slow, deliberate steps that made her heart pound.

"You."

One word. Simple. Terrifying.

"I've waited fifteen years," he said quietly. "Watched you grow up in the shadows. Watched you struggle, survive, sell yourself in that filthy club just to keep your brother fed. And I let you. Do you know why?"

She couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.

"Because I wanted you to understand what it means to have nothing." His hand reached out, fingers brushing her jaw. "So when I gave you everything, you'd know exactly what you owed me."

She jerked her face away. "I owe you nothing."

"Sign the contract, Amelia."

"No."

His expression didn't change, but something shifted in the air. Something dangerous.

"Where's Dan?" he asked.

Her blood went cold.

"What?"

"Your brother." He tilted his head. "Where is he right now?"

Panic clawed up her throat. "He's safe. He's out of the city, away from all this."

"Is he?"

No. No, no, no.

"What did you do?" She lunged at him, fingers curling into his shirt. "What did you do to him?"

He caught her wrists easily. Held them against his chest. "Nothing. Yet."

The word hung between them like a blade.

"Sign the contract," he said again. "Or I'll make sure Dan never makes it home."

She wanted to scream. Wanted to claw his eyes out, wanted to run, wanted to do anything except stand here and feel her world collapse around her again.

But she couldn't.

Because he had Dan.

He always had Dan.

"You're a monster," she whispered.

"I know." He released her wrists, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pen. Silver. Expensive. The kind of pen that signed away lives.

He held it out to her.

Her hands shook as she took it. The metal was cold against her palm.

"How long?" she asked, staring at the document on the table. "How long do you want me for?"

"Six months."

Six months. Half a year of her life, owned by the man who destroyed everything.

"And after that?"

"We'll see."

That wasn't an answer. That was a trap with no exit.

She looked down at the contract. The words blurred together. Terms and conditions she didn't want to read because she already knew what they said.

Her body. Her time. Her obedience.

All his.

"If I sign this," she said slowly, "you leave Dan alone. You let him live his life without looking over his shoulder."

"Yes."

"You promise?"

He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. "I promise."

Lies. Everything that came out of his mouth was a lie. But what choice did she have?

She pressed the pen to paper.

Her signature came out shaky. Uneven. Like her hand was trying to rebel even as her mind forced it forward.

When she finished, she dropped the pen. It clattered against the table.

"Good girl," he murmured.

She wanted to vomit.

He picked up the contract, folded it carefully, and slipped it back into the envelope. Like it was something precious. Something worth protecting.

"Now what?" she asked, her voice hollow.

"Now you move in."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"You signed the contract. You belong to me. That means you live where I live." He walked back to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a key. "Your things will be moved by tonight."

"I didn't agree to that."

"You did." He tossed the key onto the table in front of her. "Read the contract next time before you sign it."

Rage boiled in her chest, but she swallowed it down. She had to. She had to stay calm, had to think, had to figure out how to survive this.

Six months.

She could survive six months.

And then she'd kill him.

"Can I see Dan?" she asked. "Before I move in. I want to see my brother."

Penking studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled. "No."

"You said-"

"I said I'd leave him alone. I didn't say you could see him." He buttoned his jacket, straightening the collar. "You'll see him when I decide you've earned it."

"You bastard."

"Careful." His voice dropped. "You're mine now, Amelia. That means you speak to me with respect. Understand?"

She bit down on her tongue hard enough to taste blood.

"Understand?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

Her stomach turned. "Yes, Alpha."

His smile widened. "Good. Now go home. Pack your things. A car will pick you up at eight."

He turned away, dismissing her like she was nothing.

She grabbed the key from the table and walked toward the door. Her legs felt like lead. Every step was a fight.

When she reached for the handle, his voice stopped her.

"Amelia."

She didn't turn around.

"Welcome home."

The door closed behind her with a soft click.

She stood in the hallway, surrounded by his guards, his people, his world.

And she realized something.

She wasn't just trapped.

She was already gone.

Her fingers curled around the key in her hand. Cold. Sharp. Heavy.

Six months.

She'd survive six months.

And then she'd burn his entire world to the ground.

Starting with him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​