I woke up to seventeen missed calls.

My phone vibrated against the nightstand, drilling into my skull like a second hangover. I groaned and reached for it, squinting at the screen through crusted mascara.

Dad. Dad. Dad.

All seventeen calls.

My stomach dropped.

I sat up too fast, and the room tilted. My borrowed red dress was crumpled on the floor where I had torn it off at 3am, and my black mask stared up at me from the carpet like an accusation.

The kiss.

The man.

The bracelet.

My hand flew to my bare wrist, and the absence of my mother's bracelet hit me all over again. A thin gold chain, delicate and worn, the only thing I had left of her.

Gone.

I pressed my palms into my eyes and tried to breathe.

It was just a kiss. A stupid, reckless mistake. He was a stranger at a club. I would never see him again.

I had to believe that.

My phone buzzed again.

Dad: Aria, please. Call me back.

Guilt twisted in my chest. I swiped to call him, my throat dry.

He answered on the first ring.

"Aria." His voice cracked. "Thank God."

"Dad, what's wrong?" I asked, my pulse spiking. "Are you okay?"

Silence.

Too long.

"Dad?"

"I need you to come home," he said finally. "Right now."

"I have clinical rotation in two hours---"

"Aria." His voice broke. "Please."

I had never heard my father beg before.

"Okay," I whispered. "I'm coming."

---

The apartment looked the same as always.

Peeling paint. Cracked linoleum. The faint smell of cigarettes and instant coffee. My father sat at the kitchen table, his head in his hands, and he looked older than I had ever seen him.

Smaller.

Broken.

"Dad?" I set my bag down carefully, my nursing instincts kicking in. "Are you hurt?"

He laughed, bitter and hollow. "I wish."

I pulled out the chair across from him and sat. My hands were shaking, but I folded them in my lap and kept my voice steady.

"Tell me what happened."

He looked up at me, and his eyes were red-rimmed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Dread pooled in my stomach. "For what?" "I owe money," he said quietly. "A lot of money."

I closed my eyes. Of course. Of course he did.

"How much?" I asked.

He flinched. "Four million."

The number didn't make sense. It was too big. Too impossible.

"Four million dollars?" I repeated, my voice climbing. "Dad, what the hell did you---"

"I thought I could win it back," he said quickly. "I thought---"

"You gambled four million dollars?" I stood up so fast the chair screeched. "Are you insane?"

"I didn't have it," he said desperately. "I borrowed it. From a lender. Marcus Kane. He said---" "A loan shark." My voice was flat. "You borrowed four million dollars from a loan shark."

He nodded miserably.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to shake him until he understood what he had done.

But I didn't.

Because I had been managing my father's disasters since I was twelve years old.

"When is it due?" I asked.

"A week ago."

My blood turned to ice. "What?"

"Kane's men came by yesterday," he said, his voice shaking. "They said if I don't pay by the end of the week, they'll---" He stopped. Swallowed. "They'll kill me, Aria."

I sank back into the chair.

Four million dollars.

We didn't have four thousand. We didn't have four hundred.

"We'll go to the police," I said, grasping at anything. "We'll---"

"They'll kill me before the cops even show up," he interrupted. "Kane owns half the precinct."

"Then we'll run," I said. "We'll leave the city. We'll---"

"He'll find us."

I stared at my father, this man who had raised me and ruined me in equal measure, and I felt something inside me crack.

"Then what do we do?" I whispered.

He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw hope in his eyes.

That should have been my first warning.

"I found someone," he said. "Someone who can help."

"Who?"

"My oldest best friend. He's willing to pay the debt."

I blinked. "What? Who would---"

A knock sounded at the door.

Three sharp raps.

My father stood, his hands trembling as he smoothed down his shirt. "That's him." "Dad, wait---"

But he was already at the door, already opening it.

And the man who stepped inside stole the air from my lungs.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Immaculate suit.

Steel-grey eyes that locked onto mine with the precision of a predator.

No mask this time.

I didn't need one to recognize him.

The man from the club.

The man who had kissed me like he owned me. He stood in my father's apartment, and in his hand---

My bracelet.

"Hello, Aria," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I believe this belongs to you."

I couldn't breathe.

Couldn't move.

My father was smiling. Actually smiling.

"Aria," he said, "this is Dominic Sterling. My oldest best friend."

Dominic's eyes never left mine.

"We've met," he said softly.

And the world tilted beneath my feet.

"Sit down, Aria."

Dominic's voice was calm. Polite, even.

It made my skin crawl.

I didn't sit.

I stood frozen in the middle of the living room, staring at the man who had unraveled me with a single kiss less than twelve hours ago. The man who now stood in my apartment, holding my mother's bracelet like a ransom note.

My father hovered near the door, wringing his hands. "Aria, please. Just listen---"

"You knew?" My voice came out hoarse. "You knew I was at that club?"

Dominic tilted his head, studying me. "I didn't. Not at first."

"But you figured it out."

"The bracelet has an engraving," he said, turning it over in his palm. "To my darling Aria. It wasn't difficult."

My hands clenched into fists. "So you've been sitting on this since last night? Waiting?"

"I've been deciding," he corrected, "how to handle the situation."

"There is no situation," I snapped. "You give me back my bracelet, and you leave."

His eyes darkened with something that might have been amusement. "I'm afraid it's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because your father owes Marcus Kane four million dollars," Dominic said, his tone still infuriatingly calm. "And Kane is not a patient man."

I turned to my father. "I thought you said he would help."

"He is helping," my father said quickly. "Dominic's agreed to pay the debt."

My breath caught. "What?"

"In full," Dominic added. "Four million dollars. Transferred to Kane's account within the hour."

I stared at him. Four million dollars. He said it like it was pocket change.

"Why?" I asked slowly. "Why would you do that?"

Dominic took a step closer.

Then another.

He moved like a man who had never been told no in his life, and I hated that my body tensed in anticipation rather than fear.

"Because Robert is my friend," he said. "And because I don't like the idea of Kane's men putting their hands on what's mine."

The room went very still.

"What's yours?" I repeated.

He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. Expensive. Intoxicating.

"You, Aria."

My father cleared his throat. "Dom, maybe we should---"

"Leave us," Dominic said, not looking away from me.

My father hesitated. "Aria---"

"Dad." My voice was tight. "Give us a minute."

He nodded and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The second we were alone, I shoved Dominic's chest.

He didn't move.

"I am not yours," I hissed. "I don't care what kind of deal you made with my father. I'm not part of it."

"Aren't you?"

"No."

"Then how do you propose your father pays back four million dollars?" Dominic asked. "Will you take out a loan? Work double shifts at the hospital? Sell plasma?"

I flinched, but I held my ground. "We'll figure it out."

"You have three days before Kane kills him," Dominic said flatly. "You won't figure it out."

"Then what do you want?" I demanded.

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

Lingered.

"I want you to move into my estate," he said. "For your protection."

I laughed. It came out sharp and bitter. "Protection. Right."

"Kane knows who you are now," Dominic continued. "He knows you're Robert's daughter. If he can't collect from your father, he'll collect from you."

"I can handle myself."

"Can you?" He reached out and caught my wrist, his thumb pressing against my pulse point. "Your heart is racing, Aria. Just like last night."

I yanked my hand back. "Don't touch me."

"You didn't say that last night."

Heat flooded my face. "That was different."

"Was it?"

"Yes," I said through gritted teeth. "Last night, I didn't know you were my father's friend. I didn't know you were going to swoop in and---and buy me like I'm some kind of---"

"I'm not buying you," Dominic interrupted. "I'm protecting you."

"By locking me in your house?"

"By keeping you alive."

His voice was hard now. Final.

I took a shaky breath. "What are the terms?"

"You live at my estate in the Hamptons. You don't leave without my security team. You don't contact Kane or anyone associated with him."

"For how long?"

"Until the threat is neutralized."

"And how long will that take?"

Dominic's jaw tightened. "As long as it takes."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only answer I have."

I crossed my arms, trying to keep myself from shaking. "And if I say no?"

"Then your father dies," Dominic said simply. "And you'll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, waiting for Kane to collect."

Silence stretched between us.

"You're a bastard," I whispered.

"Yes," he agreed. "But I'm a bastard who keeps his word. Accept my terms, and I'll keep you safe. Both of you."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run.

But I thought of my father, broken and desperate, and I thought of Marcus Kane's men dragging him into an alley.

I thought of my mother's bracelet in Dominic's hand.

"Fine," I said. "I'll do it."

Dominic stepped closer, and before I could stop him, he clasped the bracelet around my wrist. His fingers lingered on my skin, warm and possessive.

"Good girl," he murmured.

I jerked my hand away, but the bracelet stayed.

A chain.

A claim.

"You have twenty-four hours to pack," Dominic said, straightening. "My driver will collect you tomorrow night."

"What about my classes? My clinical rotations?"

"I'll arrange for a leave of absence."

"You can't just---"

"I can," he interrupted. "And I will."

He turned toward the door, then paused. Looked back at me.

"One more thing, Aria."

"What?"

His eyes were cold. Empty.

"Don't try to run. I'll find you."

And then he was gone.

I didn't sleep that night.

I sat on my bed, staring at the single suitcase I was allowed to bring, and tried to figure out where everything had gone so wrong.

Twenty-four hours ago, I was a nursing student. Broke, exhausted, but free.

Now, I was being shipped off to a billionaire's estate like a package.

My phone buzzed.

Lila: girl WHERE are you??? you didn't show up to clinical and Dr. Harris is PISSED

I stared at the message, my throat tight.

Me: Family emergency. I'll explain later.

Lila: are you okay???

No.

Me: Yeah. I'm fine.

The lie tasted bitter.

Another buzz.

Unknown Number: The car will arrive at 8pm. Be ready. -DS

I threw my phone across the room.

It hit the wall and clattered to the floor, screen cracked but still glowing.

Dominic Sterling.

Dad's oldest friend.

The man who kissed me like he wanted to devour me.

The man who now owned me.

I pulled my knees to my chest and tried to breathe.

---

The car arrived exactly at 8pm.

A sleek black SUV with tinted windows. The driver was a man in his forties, stone-faced and silent. He took my suitcase without a word and opened the back door.

I looked back at the apartment.

My father stood in the doorway, his face pale.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he called. "I'm so sorry."

I didn't answer.

I got in the car.

The door closed with a heavy bang, sealing me in leather and silence. The driver pulled away from the curb, and I watched my father disappear in the side mirror.

The drive took two hours.

Long enough for the city lights to fade.

Long enough for the buildings to give way to trees.

Long enough for me to realize I was leaving behind everything I knew.

The estate appeared like something out of a dream.

Or a nightmare.

Tall iron gates. A sprawling mansion of white stone and glass. Manicured lawns that stretched into darkness.

And security.

So much security.

Cameras on every corner. Guards at the gate. Motion sensors blinking red in the hedges.

The driver stopped at the front entrance.

A woman in a crisp grey suit opened my door. She was older, fifties maybe, with sharp eyes and a polite smile that didn't reach them.

"Miss Vance," she said. "Welcome. I'm Helen, Mr. Sterling's head of staff. If you'll follow me."

I stepped out of the car, and the scale of the place hit me.

This wasn't a house.

It was a fortress.

Helen led me through the foyer, our footsteps echoing on marble floors. Everything was pristine. Cold. Beautiful in the way a museum is beautiful.

Untouchable.

"Mr. Sterling is in a meeting," Helen said as we climbed a grand staircase. "He'll join you for dinner at nine."

"I'm not hungry."

"Nevertheless," she replied smoothly, "dinner is at nine."

She stopped at a door on the second floor and pushed it open.

"Your room."

I stepped inside.

It was huge.

A four-poster bed. A sitting area with a fireplace. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the grounds.

A cage dressed in silk and gold.

"The ensuite is through there," Helen said, gesturing. "Your belongings will be brought up shortly. If you need anything, press the call button on the wall."

"What if I want to leave?"

Helen's smile tightened. "Mr. Sterling's instructions are clear dear. You're not to leave the estate without his approval."

"So I'm a prisoner."

"You're a guest," Helen corrected. "A very protected guest."

She left before I could respond.

I stood in the middle of the room, my hands shaking.

A guest.

Right.

I walked to the window and pressed my palm against the glass.

Beyond the lawn, I could see the gate.

The guards.

The cameras.

I was trapped.

---

Dinner was exactly as uncomfortable as I expected.

The dining room was massive, the table long enough to seat twenty. Dominic sat at the head, and I was placed to his right.

Close enough to touch.

I didn't.

He watched me as I picked at my food, his expression unreadable.

"You didn't eat much," he observed.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat, Aria."

"Don't tell me what to do."

His jaw tightened. "I'm trying to take care of you."

"You're trying to control me," I shot back. "There's a difference."

Silence.

He set down his fork, and the clink of metal on porcelain echoed.

"You're angry," he said.

"Of course I'm angry."

"At me? Or at your father?"

I glared at him. "Both."

Dominic leaned back in his chair, studying me. "You could have said no."

"And let my father die?"

"Some might consider that a fair trade."

The cruelty of it stole my breath.

"You're a monster," I whispered.

"Yes," he agreed. "But I'm your monster now."

He stood, and I tensed.

But he only walked to my chair, leaning down until his mouth was beside my ear.

"Get used to it, Aria," he murmured. "Because you're not leaving."

His hand brushed my shoulder.

A brand.

And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the massive room.

I sat there for a long time, staring at the untouched food on my plate.

And I realized something that made my blood run cold.

I wasn't just trapped in his house.

I was trapped in his world.

And there was no way out.

---