CALENDULA

The first rule was simple.

Don’t run.

Arielle Kane learned that the moment the black car doors closed behind her, sealing her into silence and leather and the kind of danger that didn’t shout—it waited.

She kept her chin lifted anyway.

The city blurred past the tinted windows, Lagos at night glowing like it didn’t know her life had just ended. Or maybe begun. She wasn’t sure yet. Fear had a way of disguising itself as anticipation.

Her wrists weren’t bound. That was the insult.

They didn’t need to tie her down. They knew she’d already calculated the odds. Three armed men in the car. Two in front. One beside her. All silent. All disciplined. Professionals.

Kidnapping implied chaos.

This was acquisition.

The car stopped.

The gates opened without a sound. Steel sliding into steel. A private estate rose before her—modern, cold, deliberate. Power lived here. It breathed here.

The door opened.

“Doctor Kane,” the man beside her said calmly. “Welcome.”

Not sorry. Not please.

Welcome.

She stepped out on her own.

Inside, the air was cool and expensive. Marble floors. Soft lighting. The kind of house that didn’t need warmth to feel alive. It was already fed—by money, by secrets, by blood.

They took her phone. Her bag. Her autonomy.

Still no restraints.

That’s when unease tightened into something darker.

She was led into a room with three chairs facing her.

Two were already occupied.

The third man stood by the window, back turned, hands clasped behind him like a king surveying land he already owned.

The man on the left sat casually, long legs stretched out, dark eyes sharp with amusement. Roman. He looked like trouble enjoyed itself. Smile easy. Control effortless.

The man on the right didn’t smile.

Luca.

Everything about him was precise. Suit perfectly tailored. Jaw tight. Eyes cold and assessing, like she was an equation he’d already solved. He didn’t look at her body. He looked through her.

That unsettled her more than hunger ever could.

The third man turned.

Elijah.

He was quieter than the others. Softer at first glance. But his gaze lingered too long, too deep—like he was already memorizing her reactions. Not ownership.

Protection.

Which was somehow worse.

“Sit,” Luca said.

Not raised. Not harsh.

Command.

Her body reacted before her mind could argue. She sat.

Roman chuckled softly. “Good. You listen.”

“I didn’t agree to be here,” Arielle said, voice steady despite the thrum in her chest.

Luca leaned forward. “You agreed the moment you took the job at Saint Mary’s.”

Her breath caught. “You’ve been watching me.”

“We’ve been investing in you,” Elijah corrected gently. “Your education. Your licenses. Your protection when you pissed off the wrong people.”

Roman tilted his head. “You’re expensive, Doc.”

Arielle’s nails dug into her palms. “What do you want?”

Silence stretched.

Then Luca stood.

He moved slowly, deliberately, circling her like a line being drawn around a name. She felt it—his presence—before he stopped in front of her.

“Compliance,” he said. “Discretion. Loyalty.”

“And in return?” she asked.

Roman leaned forward now, elbows on knees. “Safety. Power. Desire.”

Elijah’s voice was the one that broke her. “Belonging.”

Her pulse spiked. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Luca’s hand lifted—just two fingers—and tilted her chin up.

Not rough.

Certain.

“You will.”

The room tightened. Not with threat—but with promise.

“This isn’t marriage,” Roman added lightly. “And it’s not love. Don’t confuse it.”

“But,” Elijah said, eyes locked on hers, “it will feel like both.”

Luca released her chin and stepped back. “You’ll have rules.”

Roman smiled. “And consequences.”

Elijah softened it. “And care.”

Arielle swallowed. “And if I say no?”

For the first time, Luca smiled.

“You already didn’t,” he said. “And you’re still here.”

The truth hit her like a slow wave.

They didn’t want her fear.

They wanted her submission.

Chosen. Conditioned. Earned.

Her breath came shallow.

Roman stood and extended a hand. “Welcome to your new life, Doctor.”

She didn’t take it.

Not yet.

But she didn’t stand up either.

And every man in the room noticed.