LOGIN~CLARA'S POV~ I had not slept. For six hours, I had lain on the plush rug at the foot of his bed thinking about where he told me we were going and why he suddenly asked the driver to turn back What does he know? Could my father be guilty as charged? What don't I know? all that questions while listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. In the dead of night, the ruthless titan had broken. I had heard him mutter my name into his pillow—not with the cruel, mocking command he used in the boardroom, but with a desperation that sounded terrifyingly like obsession. ------------ "You are late with my coffee, little bird." The deep voice cut through the silence. I froze. Ares was sitting at the edge of the mattress, his dark hair messy, his eyes tracking my every move like a hawk. The daytime mask was already sliding back over his face, cold and unreadable. "It is exactly 6:29 AM, Mr. Volkov," I said. My voice was flat. Professional. Perfect. "Your coffee is waiting on yo
CLARA'S POV Before I could even attempt to move, a heavy force slammed into me. Ares threw his entire weight against my body, driving me flat against the cold marble floor beneath the shadow of the concrete VIP balcony. He shielded me completely, his massive frame acting as a bulletproof vest. The scent of his cedarwood cologne was masked instantly by the sharp, metallic tang of gunpowder. Above us, the VIP balcony sparked. Another flash of muzzle fire illuminated the blackness for a fraction of a second. In that fleeting moment of light, I saw Ares move with a terrifying speed. His hand reached into his tailored tuxedo jacket, pulling a concealed, matte-black firearm. He didn't hesitate. He leveled the barrel into the dark and fired three precise shots toward the upper deck. A heavy thud echoed from the balcony, followed by the clatter of a dropped weapon. The shooter was down. "Move. Now," Ares growled against my ear in a commanding tone. He hoisted me to my feet, his grip on my
~CLARA'S POV~ "Where is it, Ares?" My voice was a razor-thin whisper, sharp enough to cut through the ambient swell of the ballroom’s jazz orchestra. I turned fully in his embrace, breaking the pleasant facade I had spent the last two hours maintaining. The diamond choker around my neck felt heavier now, suffocatingly hot against the hidden silver collar underneath. Ares didn't even blink. He kept his eyes swept across the room, watching Marcus Vance’s retreating figure disappear into the sea of silk and tuxedos. "Marcus is a desperate man throwing pebbles at a fortress, Clara. Do not let a traitor dictate your composure." "He said you have my mother’s necklace," I demanded, stepping closer, my hands coming up to press against the crisp lapels of his tuxedo. The physical proximity was overwhelming. The familiar, intoxicating scent of his cedarwood and amber cologne filled my senses, making my head spin. "You told me the federal receivers took it. You told me it was liquidated
~CLARA'S POV~ The silk of the midnight-blue gown felt like liquid ice against my skin. It was a masterpiece of design—completely backless, dropping in a daring, cowl-neck drape to the small of my spine. But its true purpose wasn't elegance; it was concealment. I stood before the vanity mirror in the luxury dressing room, my fingers trembling as I adjusted the heavy, five-tier diamond choker around my neck. The brilliant gems caught the light, sparkling with a deceptive opulence. Beneath them, hidden entirely by the thick velvet lining of the necklace, sat a rigid band of brushed silver. Ares’s literal collar. He hadn't forced it on me with physical violence. He had simply left it on my vanity with a note stating that the biometric lock was synced to his personal device, a silent reminder of the contract I had signed to keep my father alive. The cold metal pressed against my trachea, a secret brand of ownership disguised as high fashion. "You look breathtaking, Clara." Ares
~CLARA'S POV~ "Where are they taking him?" The words cut through the sudden silence of the empty boardroom. I didn't care about the rules anymore. I didn't care about the rigid posture or the professional facade. I turned on Ares, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Ares didn't look up immediately. He calmly closed his leather-bound portfolio, the scratch of his fountain pen signing off on the meeting minutes the only sound in the room. When he finally lifted his dark eyes to meet mine, there was no surprise in them. Only a cold, calculating assessment. "You speak Russian," he stated flatly. It wasn't a question. "My mother was a linguist," I fired back, leaning against the heavy mahogany table to steady my trembling hands. "Answer me, Ares. What high-security facility? The court sentence said minimum security. He’s supposed to be in a medical wing!" Ares stood up, towering over me. The proximity brought back the scent of his cedarwood cologne, a suffocating rem
~CLARA'S POV~ The ninety minutes it took Ares to return to the Volkov Global tower were the longest of my life. I hadn't moved from the center of the office. The red lockdown lights had faded back to a cold, sterile white, but the mechanical lock on the terminal still gripped my administrative clearance card. A permanent piece of evidence. When the heavy double doors clicked open, I didn’t flinch. Ares stepped into the room, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He didn't look furious. The terrifying thing about Ares Volkov wasn't his temper; it was his absolute, unshakeable calm. "You didn't run," he noted, walking past me to his desk. He pressed his thumb against the biometric scanner, and the terminal released my card with a soft click. He picked it up, flipping the plastic between his fingers. "The elevators were locked down, and you have snipers on the perimeter," I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline still burning my throat. "Where would I go?" "Smart girl." He tossed my
~CLARA'S POV~ The obsidian office of Volkov Global felt less like an executive suite and more like a high-tech panopticon. From the forty-fifth floor, the city below was reduced to a grid of blinking, insignificant lights. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass, my hands clasped neatly behind my b
CLARA'S POV The digital numbers on the penthouse’s built-in bedside display flickered to 5:45 AM. I had been staring at them for the last three hours. My body ached. The unfulfilled heat Ares had deliberately kindled inside me had long since cooled into a dull knot in my stomach. He wanted
~CLARA'S POV~The bathroom of the guest suite was as cold and sterile as the rest of Ares Volkov’s kingdom.I turned the heavy metal dial until the shower water ran near-scalding, letting the steam thick with the scent of high-altitude ozone fill the marble space. Stepping under the spray, I didn't
~CLARA'S POV~ "Going once... going twice... Sold for fifty million dollars to the gentleman in the shadows." The strike of the mahogany gavel sounded like a gunshot in the plush, suffocating silence of the underground room. I closed my eyes, my nails digging into my palms until I broke the sk







