Lock Her Up

JaneVera's Pov

Ceasar tilted his head, studying me the way a predator studies its prey, slow and almost amused. Then he leaned in, his face lowering until his lips hovered just above mine, close enough that every word brushed heat against my skin.

“Say it,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous. “Say yes, Jane.”

My pulse hammered so violently I could feel it in my throat. The air between us was thick, tainted with temptation, danger, and something far worse… desire. I wanted to step back, to breathe, to think but he didn’t let me.

Using his hand on my throat, he tilted my face up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Stop thinking,” he whispered, each word both command and dare. “Just feel.” His grip tightened, firm enough to steal my breath, and then his mouth claimed mine.

The kiss burned deep, consuming, erasing thought and reason. There was no Neven. No revenge. No logic. Only him. The weight of his hand at my throat. The taste of his breath. The way his body pressed against mine, like we were caught between restraint and ruin.

When he finally pulled back, I was trembling, gasping for air that still carried the ghost of him. My lips tingled, my thoughts scattered, my body already surrendered, wanting and needing him.

His thumb brushed over my bottom lip and I shivered at the contact.

“Seven days,” I breathed, my voice low and shaky. “Then I’m gone.”

His smile deepened, dangerous and triumphant. “Seven days,” he echoed softly. His hand still lingered at my throat, thumb tracing the rapid beat of my pulse. “And you’re mine until the last second.”

Ceasar stared at me, and I met his gaze, refusing to look away.

“Seven days with you,” I murmured, “For one day of revenge.”

“One week, Jane,” Caesar said, his voice a deep, velvet promise that slid down my spine. “Seven days and I’ll give you everything you’ve been craving… even the things you’re too afraid to admit you want.”

He leaned closer, his breath grazing the shell of my ear, each word a slow, deliberate caress that sent a shiver racing through me, “Every time Neven sees you with me, especially when he watches the way you look at me, he’ll burn for what he lost. He’ll hate himself for letting you go. He’ll wish he could take it back.”

His tone deepened, darkened, and laced with possession, “And I’ll make sure he knows exactly what it feels like to lose you… to me. Because when I touch you, when I make you moan my name, there won’t be a single doubt in anyone’s mind who you belong to.” He paused, thumb gliding slowly along the corner of my mouth, tracing the outline of my lips like a promise he already owned.

“So tell me, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice dipping low enough to feel instead of hear. “Do we have a deal?”

I swallowed hard, every warning in my head clashing with the pulse between my thighs.

“You’re impossible,” I said softly, breath trembling, trying to sound defiant but it came out more like a plea than strength.

His lips brushed against mine, a ghost of a smirk curving there, “And you’re already falling.”

I hated how right he was.

I steadied myself as his grip finally loosened from my throat, the ghost of his touch still burning against my skin. He turned toward the desk with that same cold composure, while my pulse raced wild and unsteady as I followed him.

He picked up the pen, uncapped it with a soft click and signed his name.

“That’s a deal,” he said, setting the pen down.

“Deal,” I echoed, though my voice barely held together.

He stepped aside, granting me space to approach the desk. The contract lay open on the desk, pale paper and black ink gleaming under the dim light. The pen waited beside it, gleaming like sin itself.

“Sign it, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and rough, brushing down my spine like velvet and fire. “Make it official.”

I picked up the pen, leaned forward, and stared down at the page knowing the moment I signed, there would be no turning back.

Seven damn days. That’s what I told myself. Seven days, and I’d be free, free of him, of the heat, of the danger coiling through my veins like wildfire. That’s what I repeated as my fingers trembled around the pen, clinging to it as if my life depended on it.

I felt him move as he stepped close behind me and his hand slid to my hip, firm and possessive, guiding me back until I could feel the hard press of him against me.

The scent of his cologne, intoxicating, clouding my thoughts, flooding my senses. His breath grazed the back of my neck as his spoke, “What’s keeping you, sweetheart?” he asked and I forced a smile, though my pulse was racing.

“Nothing,” I said, steadying my voice. “I’ll sign it.” I added and I bent forward, letting the pen glide across the page, my signature curling into inked finality.

The moment the last letter left my hand, his palm came down swiftly, a sharp crack slicing through the air as it met my ass. The sound echoed, sharp and intimate, the sting blooming hot and immediate.

“Ahn…!” My breath hitched as I gasped, jerking upright, shock colliding with a rush of heat that spread where his touch had landed.

“That’s my good gurl…,” Caesar drawled, his voice deep and thick with satisfaction. His hand lingered there, palm pressing and kneading the spot he’d just spanked. “You’re officially mine now, by contract and by choice,” he said, his words a dark, velvet caress that curled through the air between us.

“And now,” he breathed, leaning in until his lips brushed the edge of my ear, his voice warm, sinful and intoxicating, “The deal’s sealed.” He paused, just long enough for the weight of his words to sink in before whispering, “Let’s get started. And by the time this week ends, you won’t just have your revenge… you’ll remember exactly who made you forget him.” Ceasar added.