Chapter 6: Customized Collar

"Don't touch me! I can walk myself!" Julian yanks his arm out from the grasp of one of the guards.

The guard looks rightfully frustrated, "The boss said-"

"Enzo said to lead me to my new room, not drag me." Julian huffs, crossing his arms.

The worse mistake Enzo made is leaving Julian with the guards without Marco or Rico. He woke up spiteful this morning, knowing full well the guards can't touch him; on Enzo's orders.

Finally, finally, they manage to drag Julian into Enzo's room. The moment the doors open, wow..

Julian takes in the sheer luxury of the entire room. The huge bed, the sheets, the automated lights, the walk in closet. Even the showers work with voice controls.

Damn. The bathroom in this room alone is bigger than his entire house.

The guards don't waste anymore time. They quicky drop his bag of toiletries and clothes before sprinting away like they can't wait to be away from the menace.

Julian smirks. Good. Now they know not to mess with him.

He takes a short tour of the room, undeniably impressed. And if Enzo wasn't using him as a sex toy, maybe he could've actually enjoyed his stay here.

Fuck, maybe.

Something else catches his attention in a corner-- a book rack that looks completely out of place.

Enzo doesn't even seem like the type to read.

He reaches for one of the books that look interesting enough, but instead of paper, an automated voice rings out instead.

"Fingerprint access, denied."

What the- so there's like a secret room or something.

It's not surprising though, that a mafia has a hidden room. But what could Enzo possibly be hiding in there?

Weapons? Secrets? Another omega?

Julian presses his ears against the wall next to the cupboard, trying to listen in.

"Sir?" Miss Rose, one of the older maids, is standing behind him carrying a tray of breakfast.

He jumps, startled, pretending to suddenly be very interested in a painting on the wall. "I wasn't, I didn't do anything!"

Miss Rose sighs at him, setting the tray down. "You're not supposed to touch that," she mumbles. "That room is off-limits. Mr. Moretti's orders."

"What's inside?!"

"I don't know. And if I were you, I would stay away from it too."

What the--

"For your own safety," she whispers under her breath, almost to herself.

Julian pretends not to hear that part, but he did. Loud and fucking clear. But has he ever listened!?

Obviously not.

Now he's eager to know more than ever what exactly Enzo hides behind the walls.

--

Later that evening, Enzo hosts a private dinner in the grand dining room on the private floor, and only a few guests are invited.

His business partners who came visiting, among then is an Alpha named Kane-- a sharp-featured man who had come to discuss distribution lines.

Julian is also present-- though not by choice-- seated to Enzo's right, dressed in a fitted black shirt and slacks chosen by the Alpha himself. He keeps his eyes on his plate, trying to remain invisible.

The moment kane's eyes land on him, a slow grin spreads across his face.

"You have excellent taste, Moretti," he says, eyes sliding over Julian with open interest. "This one is quite beautiful. Those green eyes… very striking for a male Omega. Tell me, Enzo, how much did you get him for? I could pay double."

Julian tenses, fork frozen in his hand at the way the man talks about him like he's a commodity.

Enzo's jaw is tight. "This one isn't for sale."

But of course, the man doesn't drop it, his leans forward maybe more stupid than taunting. "Oh, come on Enzo, since when are we stingy with Omegas huuh?" He turns to Julian. "I can be much gentler with pretty things...you should come to me."

Before he can respond, Enzo's hand clamps down beneath his thigh under the table, wordlessly lifts and drags him onto his lap in front of everyone.

"I said this one isn't for sale!" His dark voice carries across the table, shutting him up.

Julian's breath catches, as his back presses against his hard chest. The power imbalance feels suffocating.

Everyone watches -- staff, guards, even the business associates exchange nervous glances as Enzo reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a sleek black collar he had reserved for tonight.

The leather is expensive, with a small silver lock at the front. Enzo fastens it around his throat, before Julian can blink. .

"Now nobody confuses who you belong to," Enzo says coldly, fingers tracing the collar, pressing it firmly against Julian's skin. "He is mine! Touch him again with your eyes, Kane, and I'll take more than those distribution lines from you."

Kane raises his hands in surrender, "I was just joking, Enzo, you know how it is! " But Julian doesn't miss the way his smile stays strained as he continues his meal.

The rest of dinner passes in thick silence, Julian barely eats, hyper-aware of the collar around his neck and Enzo's possessive arm locked around his waist.

And as soon as dinner ends, Julian doesn't wait before he sprints away from the dinner, away from all their prying eyes to the room Enzo has prepared for him.

Later that night, back in the master bedroom, Julian waits until Enzo leaves for a late call in his office. The moment the door closes, he moves to the large mirror.

He looks like a dog with a collar-- the silver lock glinting against his chest.

His fingers tremble as he tries to unfasten the collar. He pulls, twists, and digs at the lock, growing more frantic with each failed attempt.

It doesn't budge.

The lock is small but reinforced, clearly custom-made for him. And behind it-- he notices there are initials engraved into the silver lock.

E.M.

Wtf!?

Tears of frustration sting his eyes as he keeps trying to take it off. He is trapped. Trapped and owned, with no way of escape.

The door opens behind him. Enzo stands there, watching him struggle with quiet, dark satisfaction. He doesn't say a word, enjoying wordlessly until Julian notices him standing there.

He freezes, fingers still hooked uselessly under the collar. "I was just-"

Enzo steps closer, cutting him off completely. "It's locked for a reason," he says softly. "And only I have the key."

The realization makes Julian sigh. If he's ever going to get out of here....he needs to start playing Enzo's games.

He puts on the most pitiful expression he can muster,

"Can you please take it off then?"

"I can..." Enzo replies without missing a beat, like he had been expecting it. But before Julian's relieved exhale can fully form, he adds, "...If you give me something in return."

"What?"

"Give me a show with the collar on." He says again, voice a low, turned on mess. "Then I'll take it off.."

Julian blinks twice. "Are you always this eager?You're not even in your rut yet!" The words tumble out from his loose lips faster than he realizes exactly where he is.

It's for the same reasons he always got in trouble with his father--snapping at customers who act like they own the world just because they have some money to spend.

Julian clamps a hand around his mouth, eyes wide with the realization.

But Enzo isn't having it. The usual amusement he carries instantly drains from his face. He closes the distance before Julian can blink, grabs him by the neck, and slams him against the wall.

"I might have been too lenient with you, boy," Enzo says angrily. "You seem to forget exactly who you’re speaking to." His hand tightens around Julian's neck-- inevitably the collar.

Julian gasps loudly, fingers instinctively clawing at Enzo's wrist, not to pull him off-- he knows he can't win against the stronger man.

"I-" he Julian starts, but the hand around his throat is too tight. He can't breathe. ,

Because one wrong move. One wrong word-- and he's entirely gone. Vanished as if he'd never existed.

"I didn't mean it. I didn't-" He already feels used and claimed in the worst ways possible. What's one more thing?!

Because if has any hope of getting this damn thing off his neck, he knows he needs to play Enzo's games.

"I'm sorry,” he grabs Enzo's wrist "I'm sorry, I'll do it!"

Julian is practically coughing now. There's no air in his lungs, and his head feels light.

"Do what? Use your words, Omega!" his hand doesn't loosen.

Fuck him for making him repeat it!

He already feels stripped of dignity-- now it's either his pride or survival. Finally, he had no choice but to lower his gaze, surrendering completely.

"I'll do it," his voice is muffled by the hand around his neck. "I'll put on a show for you."