Luca’s hands trembled as he stood in Damien’s office, the weight of his decision pressing down on his chest like a boulder. The air was thick with cigar smoke and something darker—the scent of power, of control, of a predator toying with his prey. Damien sat behind his massive mahogany desk, clad in his signature black suit, leather gloves flexing as he steepled his fingers. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with amusement, intrigue, and something deeper—something hungry.

Luca swallowed hard. He knew what he was doing. He knew what this would mean. But after what had happened—after Val’s near-death, after Damien’s men had decimated her team—he had no choice.

“You win,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Damien’s lips curled into a slow smirk. “Say that again.”

Luca’s stomach twisted. He felt sick. But he lifted his chin, forcing himself to look Damien in the eye. “You win. I’ll do whatever you want. Just leave my family out of it. No more threats, no more games. You leave Val alone.”

Silence stretched between them. Then, Damien laughed. A deep, rich sound that sent shivers down Luca’s spine.

“Oh, Luca,” he murmured, standing and making his way around the desk, his movements slow and deliberate. “You act as if this is a choice.”

Luca stiffened as Damien stopped directly in front of him. The mafia king reached out, trailing a gloved finger down Luca’s cheek, making him flinch. Damien tsked under his breath. “You were mine the moment I laid eyes on you. This deal?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It only makes it official.”

Luca clenched his fists. “I need your word.”

Damien’s gaze darkened. “My word?”

“That you’ll leave them alone. Val. My parents. My friends.” Luca’s voice was steadier now, even as his heart pounded. “If I give myself to you, they’re off-limits.”

Damien tilted his head, considering. Then, slowly, he reached up and grasped Luca’s chin, tilting it up so their eyes locked. “And if I say no?”

Luca’s pulse thundered. “Then I’ll fight you until my last breath.”

Damien searched his face for a long moment before a slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips. “Bold. But foolish.” He let go of Luca’s chin and stepped back, turning toward his desk. “Very well. You’re mine. And in exchange, your family remains untouched.”

Relief washed over Luca so quickly that his knees almost buckled. But then Damien turned back to him, eyes gleaming. “But let’s be clear, Luca.”

He closed the distance between them again in an instant, gripping Luca’s wrist and yanking him forward until they were barely a breath apart. “This isn’t just about owning you. It’s about breaking you. Remaking you.” His grip tightened. “You will obey. You will learn your place. And in time…” He leaned in, his breath ghosting against Luca’s ear. “You’ll beg for what I give you.”

Luca shuddered. He wanted to deny it, to swear he would never give in—but the terrifying part? The part that made his stomach twist and his throat tighten?

Some small, broken part of him already believed Damien.

__________

Luca lay awake in the suffocating darkness of Damien’s penthouse, his heart pounding against his ribs. The bed was too soft, too unfamiliar, and the weight of the deal he’d made settled over him like a shroud. He had surrendered. Given himself over to a man who saw him as nothing more than a possession to claim and break.

The door creaked open.

Damien.

Luca’s body went rigid as the mafia king strode inside, his towering frame casting long shadows across the moonlit room. He was dressed down, for once—black silk shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing the ink that curled over his pale skin. His gloved hands flexed as he studied Luca with a slow, predatory gaze.

"You're still awake," Damien murmured, his voice thick with amusement.

Luca didn’t respond. He didn’t trust his voice.

Damien approached, his steps measured, controlled. He reached out and grasped Luca’s chin, tilting his face up. "You made a deal with the devil, little one. You should at least try to sleep."

Luca swallowed. "I don’t feel safe here."

Damien chuckled. "Good."

He released Luca and straightened. "You’ll get used to it. To me." His smirk deepened. "And soon, you won’t be able to sleep without me beside you."

Luca’s stomach twisted, but he stayed silent. He had made his choice. He just didn’t know if he had the strength to survive it.

---

VALERIE’S POV

Valerie paced the length of her apartment, her phone clutched in her hand. No messages. No missed calls. Luca was gone. He claims he left willingly but is it true?

Something was wrong.

She had seen it in his eyes days ago—the fear, the exhaustion, the way he flinched at shadows. She had demanded answers, but he had only given her silence. And now, he had disappeared entirely.

Her stomach churned. She knew what kind of people she was up against. Damien Volkov was a name whispered in the darkest corners of the underworld. He was untouchable, unstoppable. If he had Luca…

Valerie gritted her teeth. She would find him. She would tear through every lead, every connection, every damn fortress Damien had built around himself.

She sat down at her desk, spreading out the information she had gathered. Photos, surveillance records, known associates. A network of power and destruction, all leading back to one man.

Her hands trembled as she ran a finger over the face of Damien Volkov.

“You have no idea who you just messed with,” she whispered.

The next morning, she set her plan in motion. She visited Luca’s university, his usual hangouts, interrogated his friends in the most subtle way she could. Every clue she found led back to the same conclusion—Luca had been taken willingly. Or at least, he had been given no other choice.

Her pulse pounded. If Damien thought he could take her brother and walk away unscathed, he was about to learn what happened when you pushed a Ivanov too far.