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“Y—yes,” I stammer, barely able to breathe.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Remo. I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me with your cum. I want to belong to you. I’m yours.”

Then, he continues, his voice rough. “I’ll spill my load on your tits and in your mouth. And then I’ll watch you swallow it all down. Suffice to say, I’m going to fuck you like I hate you.”

The man in front of us has his face buried in the woman’s pussy, lapping at her clit while she wriggles and moans loudly.

A shiver runs down my spine. “Are…are you gonna kill me?”

He doesn’t hesitate when he answers, “No, I won’t. You’re my pet now. Why would I want to kill my sweet little pet?”

The casual certainty in his tone steals my breath. My chest tightens, and I force myself to respond, even though the words come out in a rush. “So I’m just going to be your…fuck buddy?”

His laughter is deep, rich, and maddening. “You misunderstand me, princess.” He leans in closer, his voice dipping lower, more dangerous. “I’ll fuck you whenever I want, however I want, but you’re not my buddy. You’re a pet. Mine.”

Before I can retort, he releases me, and I stumble out of his grasp and collapse onto the cold, unforgiving floor. My hands press against the ground, and I steady myself as I look up at him.

Remo rises from his seat with an almost lazy grace, licking his lips like a predator who knows the hunt is far from over. He shakes his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

“Clear out!” he barks, his voice sharp and commanding.

The couple in front of us freezes, their moment of passion abruptly interrupted. The man carefully helps the woman out of her restraints, and together, they exit the room without so much as a backward glance.

Now, it’s just me and him.

I sit back on my heels, my body taut with conflicting emotions—rage, fear, and an unwelcome, undeniable heat. He’s watching me, his stare heavy and unrelenting.

He taps the top of his nose with two fingers, a mocking gesture that feels like he’s peeling back my defenses layer by layer. “I know women like you,” he says, his tone laced with quiet menace. “You think you’re better than everyone else. Strong-willed. Stubborn. Trying to prove a point to the world.”

He steps closer, his boots echoing ominously on the floor. “But believe me, princess, I’ve broken men far stronger than you. And you?” He crouches in front of me, so close that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. His voice drops when he adds, “I will break you. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”

Chapter 8

Daniela

The walls of this room mock me. Every gilded edge, every silk-draped surface, whispers of wealth so cold that it burns. It’s not my home. It’s a cage dressed up in luxury, and the locked windows don’t let me forget it.

Adeline’s call echoes in my head. Her voice had been bright, normal. Like life hadn’t turned upside down. “Let’s grab a coffee,” she said. Like I can just walk out of here and stroll into a café.

I shove my feet into sneakers and yank open the door. The two guards are there, the same as always. Luca and Stefano—stone-faced statues in expensive suits. I try not to look at their holsters.

“I’m heading out,” I say, keeping my tone clipped and casual. “Don’t wait up.”

Luca doesn’t blink. “You’ll need Remo’s permission.”

“Excuse me?” My voice rises before I can stop it. “I’m not a kid asking to stay out past curfew. I’m going to see a friend. Now, move.”

They don’t move. Stefano’s lips twitch—almost a smile, but not quite. “Rules are rules.”

Frustration boils over. “Rules? What, you think this is normal? Keeping someone locked up like this? You don’t get to tell me where I can or can’t go.”

“It’s not us.” Luca’s voice is calm and flat. “Talk to him.”

I glare at them for a beat longer, then spin on my heel. Fine. I’ll talk to him. I’ll march into his office, throw the door open, and demand answers. But the thought of facing Remo makes mystomach churn. His presence is like a storm—calm one moment, devastating the next.

Still, anger pushes me forward. My sneakers squeak against the polished wood floors as I head toward his office. When I get closer, I slow down. Voices drift through the slightly open door.