BUILT FOR HIM

The garden of the estate was a sea of pastel silks and expensive champagne, a sunshine.atmosphere curated perfectly by Orion’s sister. To anyone else, it was the social event of the season a celebration of family and legacy. To Orion, it was a hunting ground.

Standing at 6'4", Orion didn't just occupy space; he dominated it. His custom tailored suit strained against the massive breadth of his shoulders, the dark fabric a sharp contrast to the eligible bachelor smile he gave to the investors circling him. He looked every bit the Greek god the media claimed him to be,cold, powerful, and untouchable. His parents hovered nearby, beaming with pride, cherishing their successful son as if he were still a boy and not a man who could buy and sell everyone in this garden.

But Orion wasn't listening to the business talk. His predatory gaze was locked on a splash of white porcelain across the lawn.

Noah.

His step-uncle looked painfully beautiful. At 5'4", Noah was a delicate vision in a soft, cream-colored silk shirt that did nothing to hide the feminine curves of his body. Every time Noah moved, the fabric clung to the full, soft swell of his chest and the heavy, bouncy curve of his hips. His fluffy brown hair caught the sunlight, framing those wide, innocent doe eyes as he laughed at something his father's best friend was saying.

Orion’s jaw tightened, his large, calloused hand nearly snapping the stem of his champagne flute.

Noah was blushing. That soft, petal-pink flush was spreading across his porcelain skin because he was looking at him—the family friend. Noah was acting the part of the innocent piner, his tiny hands fluttering nervously as he tried to flirt, unaware that he looked like a piece of ripe fruit waiting to be plucked.

"He’s so sweet, isn't he?" Orion’s mother murmured, coming up beside her son and patting his muscular arm. "Your uncle Noah has such a gentle soul. I hope he finds someone who can take care of him."

Orion’s eyes darkened, the ink of his tattoos hidden beneath his sleeves feeling like they were burning into his skin. Take care of him? His mother had no idea. She saw a soft man who needed protection. Orion saw a possession he had been obsessed with since he was old enough to understand the word want.

Noah’s soft laughter drifted over the breeze, and Orion saw the way Noah’s wide hips swayed as he leaned in closer to the family friend. The dominance that had been a part of Orion since birth roared to the surface, a silent, territorial snarl.

He didn't care about being the country's most eligible bachelor. He didn't care about the party. He only cared about the fact that his soft uncle was looking at another man with the eyes that belonged to him.

Orion set his glass down on a passing waiter’s tray with a sharp clack.

"Excuse me, Mother," Orion said, his voice a deep, vibrating rumble that brooked no argument. "I think it’s time I had a word with my uncle."

He began to move across the grass, a 6'4" shadow cutting through the sunlight. Noah didn't see him coming yet, but he would feel him soon enough.