Page 19 of Property of Chux

But I do.

Because I am in control here.

And she knows it.

I drop onto the couch beside her, my body stretching out, legs splayed wide, my arm draping over the backrest like I own the place.

Like I own her.

She stiffens, her whole body reacting even though I haven’t touched her.

Not yet.

I smirk, slow and deliberate. "Relax, sweetheart."

Her jaw tightens. "Screw you."

A chuckle rumbles in my chest. There she is the spit-fire. "Now that’s not very polite," I murmur, tilting my head as I watch her squirm.

She shifts slightly, her hands balling into fists, trying to control the panic threatening to spill over.

I lean forward just a little, close enough that she can feel my heat, feel the weight of my presence without me even laying a finger on her.

"You gonna keep glaring at me," I say, voice low and amused, "or are you gonna start asking the questions you really wanna know?"

She sucks in a sharp breath, her fingers trembling just slightly before she shoves them under her thighs hiding the shake.

I see it anyway.

And I like it.

"What the hell am I doing here?" she finally bites out, her voice stronger with every word.

I drag my tongue over my teeth, eyes still locked on hers. "Insurance."

She blinks. "Excuse me?"

I smirk again, letting the word settle between us.

The panic in her gaze shifts, turning into something else—confusion. Frustration. Fear edged with anger.

She doesn’t like not knowing the rules.

But sweetheart, in this game? I make the rules. She will learn.

I watch her, letting the silence stretch, letting the weight of the situation acclimate in that pretty little head of hers.

She’s trying to keep it together, trying to fight through the fear, but I can see the cracks.

Good.

She should be uncomfortable.

She should be terrified, sitting here alone with me, locked in a place she can’t escape.

I shift slightly, letting my knees spread wide, making sure she feels just how much space I take up, how much of her air I’m invading.

She needs to understand. "You’re in this now," I tell her, my voice slow and deliberate. "Not because you chose it, but because your grandfather put you here."

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