2. FURY OF A MADMAN.

Castle.

I should’ve looked away. I should’ve shut off the feed the second I saw Angel step onto the dance floor with that man on his arm.

I should’ve turned off the security footage before it seared itself into my skull.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I stood there, watching from the screen in my office, fists clenched at my sides as Angel danced with that pathetic excuse of a man—touching him, groping him, moving like his body was made for someone else's hands.

I’d watched it all.

The dancing. The grinding. The way Angel threw his head back and let himself fall into the moment like it meant nothing.

And when they backed into the shadows near the wall, lips crashing like they were starving for each other, my vision tunneled.

He let him touch him and kiss him.

I watched the grainy footage as they stumbled toward the back. My breath hitched when Angel’s hand curled around the man’s wrist, tugging him past the bathroom line, moving to the supply closet.

“Don’t,” I muttered to myself, staring at the screen like I could command it to freeze. “Don’t you fucking go in.”

But they did. I watched as they fucked like animals, longing settling in the pits of my belly.

I saw the other man's hand grab onto the shelves.

I saw Angel’s mouth as he bit down on the other man’s shoulder, sweat gleaming across his temple.

I saw Angel take him. Hard. Fast. Desperate.

But that wasn’t what shattered me.

What shattered me was the look on Angel’s face, the look that never left his face—not even when the guy was coming undone beneath him.

Angel's eyes were raised to the ceiling, distant and haunted.

And I recognized it—the hollow rage of trying to fuck someone out of your system and failing every goddamn time.

I know because I had worn that expression for years—long before I ever touched him.

And three nights ago, when I finally did, when I let him sink into me and let his voice strip me bare, that look had solidified in me like a brand.

And now, watching him? I could see it in his eyes. He was trying to forget me, and it was driving me insane.

My chest heaved as I dragged in a breath, but it did nothing to slow the pulse that roared in my ears.

My grip tightened around the edges of my desk as my knuckles turned white.

“You think you can run?” I whispered to the screen. “You think one night with someone else will fix the damage I did?”

It wasn’t enough, and he needed to know. He needed to understand that his body, his mind, his fucking soul—belonged to me.

That I had given him a night, but he had taken something far more permanent from me and I wasn’t done with him. Not even close.

Snatching Camilla from the table, her steel blade catching the light, I stormed out of the office, rage pulsing through my veins.

I had a message to deliver.

***

The moment I stepped into the corridor, I could smell the sweat and hear the music.

My boots echoed sharply off the concrete as I stalked toward the back hallway. I didn’t hesitate when I reached the closet, immediately slamming the door open.

The first thing I saw was him. Not Angel. The other guy.

Max.

I knew him. The long hair had fooled me from a distance, but I knew him from Angel's past.

He was buttoning up his shirt, eyes glassy and dazed, his hair a wreck from Angel’s fingers. There was a fading bite mark on his collarbone and a smear of red across his jaw from Angel’s lips.

His pupils were blown wide, but it wasn’t the lust that caught my attention. It was the fear.

“Who the hell are you?” he croaked, startled.

I stepped in fully, shutting the door behind me with a soft click.

“Name’s Castle,” I said, slowly circling him like a predator. “You must be Max.”

His lips parted in confusion. “How do you know—?”

“I watch everything that happens in my club.”

I let that sink in as I pulled Camilla out from behind me, dragging the blade lightly across the back of my gloved hand.

Max took a cautious step back, bumping against the shelf. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”

I tilted my head. “Trouble? You think this is about trouble?”

I took one more step, eyes burning into his. “Why the hell did you come back?”

He blinked fast. “What? I don't understand.”

I chuckled. “But you do. I warned you a while ago to leave and never return, but you just had to come back.”

Realization dawned on him. “It was you? I'm sorry. There's nothing between us. It's over now—tonight was just—”

“Closure?” I cut in, voice low and cold. “You came here hoping to reclaim something that was never yours.”

He shook his head and whimpered.

“You touched what's mine.” My voice dropped into a growl.

“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I swear, I didn’t know he belonged to anyone.”

I leaned closer, so close he could see the dark in my eyes. “He doesn’t belong to anyone. Except me.”

He looked at Camilla now, and I saw the flicker of panic in his throat as he swallowed.

Max’s eyes widened. “Please…”

For a second, Max looked like he couldn't breathe and I almost forgave him.

But as I contemplated, I caught a whiff of Angel’s scent and just like that, his fate was sealed.

I smiled as my plan came together in my head. Angel needed to know that he is mine. And mine alone.