"You can leave now," he says suddenly, not looking up from his papers. "Last chance to return to your safe little life."
"No."
Now he looks up, those steel gray eyes pinning me in place. "No?"
"I'm staying. For the three nights. Like we agreed."
"Two more nights," he corrects. "Two more nights of me doing whatever I want to you. Breaking you in ways you can't imagine. Are you certain?"
Instead of answering with words, I let the robe fall open slightly, revealing the bruises he left on my chest.
His marks. His claim.
His eyes darken. "Dangerous game, little lamb."
"I thought that's what we were playing."
He stands abruptly, and I think he's going to touch me.
Instead, he walks past, stopping just behind my chair. "Finish eating. You'll need your strength."
His fingers ghost over my throat, the lightest touch over where he gripped me last night, and I nearly moan.
Then he's gone, leaving me alone with my breakfast and racing pulse.
Twenty minutes later, the twin returns.
This time, he leads me to what's clearly Cassius's office—all dark wood and leather, windows overlooking the city.
Cassius is on the phone, speaking in clipped tones about a shipment delay.
He gestures for me to kneel beside his chair.
I don't hesitate.
The carpet is soft under my knees, and the position feels natural now.
Right.
He continues his conversation, his free hand tangling in my hair, not pulling, just holding. Possessing.
"Tell them if the shipment isn't here by midnight, I'll personally visit each of them," he says into the phone. "They know what happened to the last crew that disappointed me."
The way he speaks so casually about violence makes me shiver.
This isn't roleplay.
This isn't a game.
He's genuinely dangerous, genuinely deadly.
And I'm kneeling at his feet like a pet.
He ends the call and looks down at me. "Scared yet?"
"Should I be?"
"Yes." His thumb traces my bottom lip. "But you're not, are you? You're excited. I can smell how wet you are from here."