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He cocks his head, his brows bunched together. “I expected a fight.”

“I like keeping you on your toes,” I retort as I pass him and see what appears to be a tattoo gun, gloves, and a sheet laid on the bed.

Looking at him over my shoulder, I say, “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

He gnashes his teeth. “You overestimate your influence.”

I flick a strand of my hair back. “Brand me, Enzo. It will only make your madness more consuming.”

“You won’t be the death of me,” he grits out.

“I already am.”

All I want is to be his comfort, his partner, his good girl and slut. But above all, be the woman he’s proud to call his and not partake in another game of trying to outdo the other.

Laying on my front on the soft bed, I rest my chin on my arm. Fighting him would only drain the rest of my energy. This is where I’ll end up, anyway.

I wanted this, so at least one of my wishes came true.

He straddles my thighs, and I hear the snap of the gloves.

“Have you done this before?”

“No one is going to stare at your naked ass but me, so it’s irrelevant.”

Also true. But he will, so I trust him to do his best.

The machine starts buzzing, and I can’t help but think about how the tattoo will look. I have been meticulous about what I put in and on my body. It would be a pity to have a tattoo with bad handwriting.

I giggle. Must have lost my freaking mind for good.

“Stay still.”

The needle connects with my skin and my hands automatically curl into fists. Good that I have a higher pain tolerance than most.

I am lulled by him humming something as he is fully focused on the job. I lose track of time until he wipes my skin with some cool gel and then he slaps my other cheek in a sign he’s done.

He climbs off me, and I rise then walk into the walk-in closet to the full length mirror. I stand before it and turn a bit to see a curvy, beautifully writtenEnzo’son my left ass cheek.

The tattoo takes all my attention and I barely notice his approach. He has a sharpie in his mouth and when he uncaps it, he continues the tattoo by writing “property”on the other cheek.

Now I know why he tattooed just his name. He can write whatever he wants whenever it hits him. With this mark, I am forever bound to him.

Then he writes other words, right under the first ones. Enzo’s tight hole, fuck toy… on and on until he basically has no space left my ass cheek. In all the words written, I can’t find the ones I crave most—Enzo’s woman. As our eyes lock, I doubt I will ever be that again.

I am his captive and he’s my punisher.

Hollowness spreads through me, leaving me feeling desolate and wandering alone—forever lost.

This night has been a rollercoaster of emotions. I step off the wild ride, dizzy on my feet.

On my way out of the closet, I look at his chest and at the spot where my bullet left a mark. I never miss. I pulled the trigger, and it went straight through his soul.

“I’ve lost everything, Enzo. You can stop,” I whisper.

“You owe me your life.”

“And what do you owe me?”