. Luca sat cross-legged on the floor of the lavish playroom, a small, hesitant smile tugging at his lips as Damien’s daughter giggled, her tiny hands carefully stacking blocks into a wobbly tower. The warmth in her bright green eyes was so pure, so untouched by the darkness that surrounded her father, that for a brief moment, Luca allowed himself to forget where he was.

The first time he met her had been an accident. She had wandered into the room where he was kept, curious and fearless, her small hands reaching out to touch his face as if she instinctively trusted him. Despite everything, Luca had melted under the weight of her innocence, answering her endless stream of questions with patience. That moment had sealed something unspoken between them—an infatuation on her part, a quiet sense of duty on his.

"You're really good at this, huh?" he murmured, steadying the tower when it swayed.

The little girl beamed up at him, pride shining on her face. "Papa never plays with me like this."

Luca’s chest tightened at the quiet confession. Before he could respond, a deep voice rumbled from the doorway.

"Papa is a very busy man, printsessa. But I'm glad you’re enjoying yourself."

Luca stiffened. Damien’s presence was a force, even when he wasn’t trying to be. His dark gaze flickered between his daughter and Luca, something unreadable simmering beneath the surface.

The little girl abandoned her tower in favor of rushing into Damien’s arms. "Look! Luca helped me build it!"

Damien lifted her effortlessly, the icy edge in his expression softening just slightly. "Did he now?"

Luca met his gaze, unsure what to expect. Praise? Disapproval? Possessiveness? With Damien, it was impossible to predict.

Before the silence could stretch too long, another presence entered the room. Damien’s wife. Her sharp gaze landed on the scene before her, her perfectly painted lips pressing into a thin line.

"How sweet," she said, voice laced with something bitter. "You never have time to play with her, but he does?"

Damien’s expression didn’t change, but there was something colder about him now. "Luca is different."

Luca’s stomach twisted. He had no interest in being dragged into whatever silent war was brewing between husband and wife, but Damien didn’t seem to care. His next words made Luca’s skin prickle.

"He’s good with her. And I like that."

His wife’s gaze sharpened. "Do you?"

Luca’s throat went dry as Damien strode toward him, his daughter still in his arms. There was something unsettling in the way he looked at Luca—possessive, satisfied, as if claiming him in a way words could not.

"You continue to surprise me, Luca," Damien murmured, reaching out. His gloved fingers brushed against Luca’s jaw, tilting his chin up ever so slightly. "Taking care of what belongs to me so naturally."

His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost reverent, as he traced Luca’s cheek. "She adores you. Do you know how rare that is? How rare you are?"

Luca swallowed hard, his heart hammering against his ribs. Damien’s praise felt dangerous, intoxicating in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

"You’ll be good for her," Damien continued, his voice low, soothing, yet firm. "And for me."

Luca’s stomach twisted, a sense of unease coiling in his stomach. This—whatever this was—was only going to get worse.

************

Luca barely had time to process what was happening before Damien grabbed him, his grip firm and possessive as he led him deeper into the mansion. The tension was suffocating, an almost tangible force pressing against Luca’s chest as they entered Damien’s private suite—a vast, luxurious room draped in deep, sensual hues of black and crimson. The scent of expensive cologne and leather filled the air, the atmosphere heavy with an unspoken promise.

The moment the door closed, Damien turned on him, pushing Luca against the cool surface. His hands traced over Luca’s skin with slow, deliberate intent, a predator savoring his prey.

"I’ve waited long enough," Damien murmured, his voice low and filled with dark amusement. "You think I can stand watching you slip through my fingers any longer?"

Luca’s breath hitched as Damien’s lips ghosted over his jaw, the barest tease of contact sending a shiver through him. His gloved fingers tightened around Luca’s wrists, pinning him in place as his other hand roamed lower, possessive, demanding.

"I want you to say it," Damien breathed, his mouth brushing Luca’s ear. "That you want me baby. I'd give you anything you want mhm?."

Luca swallowed hard, heat coiling low in his stomach. The way Damien touched him—like he was something to be owned, possessed, devoured—sent his thoughts spiraling.

"Damien, I—"

A sudden knock cut through the moment, followed by a tiny, insistent voice.

"Papa!"

The interruption was so jarring that Luca barely had time to react before the bedroom door creaked open. Damien’s daughter stood there in her pajamas, clutching a stuffed rabbit, her big green eyes shining with expectation.

Luca tensed immediately, sensing the sharp shift in Damien’s entire demeanor. His hands dropped from Luca’s body, but the air around him burned with restrained fury.

The little girl smiled brightly, completely unaware of the storm she had just walked into. "I want to play with Luca."

Silence stretched unbearably between them. Damien’s face was unreadable, but the sheer control it took for him not to snap was evident in the way his jaw clenched, his fists flexing at his sides.

Luca hesitated, glancing between Damien and his daughter, unsure of what to say. The possessiveness in Damien’s eyes hadn’t lessened—it had only darkened, simmering beneath the surface. His rage was a quiet, dangerous thing.

"It’s late," Damien said, voice tight. "Go back to bed."

The little girl shook her head stubbornly. "No. I want to play with Luca."

Luca could see Damien’s patience thinning, his entire body rigid with barely contained anger. But his daughter, oblivious to the tension in the room, simply walked up to Luca and tugged at his sleeve, her little fingers curling around the fabric.

"Please?" she asked sweetly.

Damien exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as if trying to rein in his irritation. When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously low. "Fine. But only for a little while."

Luca barely had time to process what had just happened before the little girl eagerly grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the sitting area. Damien watched them with a dark expression, his gaze never leaving Luca.

This wasn’t over.

If anything, Damien’s possessiveness had just reached new heights. And Luca had no doubt—once the little girl was asleep, Damien would claim what was his, one way or another.