Chapter 5

Dave stared at Ryan, his heart hammering so loudly he was sure the other man could hear it. The word “lover” still echoed in the sunlit room like a sentence handed down by a judge who had already decided the verdict.

“Your lover?” Dave repeated, his voice cracking with disbelief. “You’re insane. I don’t even know you.”

Ryan’s lips curved into the faintest smile, the kind that didn’t reach his cold, piercing eyes. He remained leaning against the edge of the massive bed, arms crossed over his broad chest, looking every bit the untouchable king in his own domain. The rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt revealed strong forearms corded with muscle and faint scars that spoke of a life built on violence.

“You will,” Ryan said simply, as if the matter were already settled. “In time, you will know every part of me, and I will know every part of you.”

Dave yanked at the chain around his ankle again. The metal rattled loudly against the bed frame, a harsh sound that shattered the quiet luxury of the room. “Take this off. Right now. I’m not staying here as your… your toy.”

Ryan pushed off the bed and walked closer, each step measured and deliberate. He stopped just out of reach, towering over Dave at his full six-foot-three height. Up close, he smelled faintly of expensive cologne mixed with something darker—gun oil and power. His dark eyes locked onto Dave’s with an intensity that made the younger man’s breath hitch.

“You are not a toy, Dave Sun,” Ryan murmured, his voice low and velvet-smooth. “You are mine. There is a difference.”

Dave’s cheeks burned. He hated how his body reacted to that deep, commanding tone—part fear, part something far more dangerous. He forced himself to glare upward. “I belong to no one.

Especially not some rich psychopath who drugs and chains people he finds on the street.”

For a moment, Ryan said nothing. He simply studied Dave’s face, as though memorising every flicker of defiance. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small silver key again. He held it between two fingers, letting it catch the morning light.

“This key opens the cuff,” Ryan said calmly. “But freedom is earned here, little one. Not demanded.”

Dave’s stomach twisted at the soft endearment. He wanted to scream, to lunge forward and snatch the key, but the chain kept him tethered like an animal. His hands clenched into fists on the soft white sheets.

“I’m not your ‘little one,’” he spat. “And I’m not earning anything from you. Let me go, or I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Ryan interrupted, his voice dropping even lower. He leaned down slightly, close enough that Dave could see the faint stubble along his sharp jaw. “Scream? Fight? Run into the streets with nothing but the clothes on your back and every enemy in Kings City now watching my gates because of you?”

Dave faltered. The words hit harder than he expected. He remembered the robbery, the empty streets, the way the city had chewed him up in less than twenty-four hours. Ryan’s mansion felt like a cage, but outside… outside felt like certain death.

Ryan straightened, slipping the key back into his pocket. “You were starving. Robbed. Sleeping on concrete like discarded trash. I changed that the moment I saw you.”

“You kidnapped me,” Dave whispered, but some of the fire had left his voice.

“I claimed you.” Ryan’s tone left no room for argument. “And I protect what is mine. Even from itself.”

Before Dave could respond, a soft knock sounded at the heavy wooden door. Ryan didn’t turn around. “Enter.”

The door opened silently. A woman in her late twenties stepped inside, carrying a silver tray with covered dishes. She had sharp features, sleek black hair pulled into a neat ponytail, and moved with the quiet efficiency of someone who had seen too much.

Lila Chen, though Dave didn’t know her name yet.

“Breakfast, sir,” she said, her voice neutral. Her eyes flicked briefly to Dave, taking in the chain and his flushed, angry face, but she showed no surprise.

“Leave it on the table,” Ryan ordered without looking away from Dave. “And tell Dr Kane to prepare for a full check-up this afternoon.”

Lila nodded once and set the tray down on the elegant desk near the windows. The smell of fresh coffee, warm pastries, and something savoury wafted through the room. Dave’s stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.

Ryan’s lips twitched. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

“I’m not hungry,” Dave lied, even as his mouth watered.

Ryan sighed softly, a sound almost fond. He moved to the tray, lifted the covers himself, and brought a plate over. On it sat scrambled eggs with herbs, crisp bacon, fresh fruit, and a buttery croissant. He set it on the bed within Dave’s reach, along with a fork.

“Eat,” he repeated, softer this time. “Or I will feed you myself.”

Dave’s face flamed hotter. The image of Ryan leaning over him, guiding food to his lips while he sat chained, sent an unwelcome shiver down his spine. He snatched the fork and stabbed at the eggs, refusing to meet Ryan’s gaze.

As he ate—far too quickly for someone claiming not to be hungry—Ryan watched him in silence. The older man eventually pulled the chair closer and sat down again, legs crossed, looking completely at ease while Dave seethed.

Between bites, Dave muttered, “You can’t keep me here forever. People will notice I’m missing.”

“No one is looking for you,” Ryan replied matter-of-factly. “You arrived yesterday with a backpack and a dream. No family waiting. No friends in the city. You are invisible, Dave… except to me.”

The truth stung. Dave swallowed hard, forcing down another bite. “Then why me? Why not pick someone else off the street?”

Ryan’s eyes darkened with something unreadable.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because the moment I saw you curled against my gate, something shifted. You looked… untouched.

Pure in a city that devours everything good. I wanted that. I wanted you.”

Dave’s fork paused mid-air. His pulse raced. There was no crude hunger in Ryan’s words—only raw, terrifying honesty. It made the air between them feel thick, charged.

“I’m not some prize you can just take,” Dave said, but his voice wavered.

“You already are.” Ryan reached out slowly, giving Dave time to flinch away. When he didn’t, Ryan’s fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from Dave’s forehead. The touch was surprisingly gentle, sending sparks across Dave’s skin. “And prizes must be kept safe. Even if they fight the cage at first.”

Dave jerked his head back, breaking the contact. His skin still tingled where Ryan had touched him. “Don’t touch me.”

Ryan smiled again—that small, dangerous curve of his lips. “You say that now.”

He stood and walked toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “Rest today. The chain gives you enough slack to reach the bathroom and the windows. Dinner will be brought at seven. If you behave, tomorrow the chain comes off for a few hours.”

“Behave?” Dave echoed bitterly.

Ryan’s gaze swept over him once more, slow and assessing, like he was already imagining all the ways he would mould Dave to his will. “Yes. Behave. Fight me too hard, little one, and the restraints will only get more… creative.”

With that, he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him with quiet finality. A moment later, Dave heard the unmistakable sound of a lock turning.

Alone again, Dave dropped the fork onto the plate and buried his face in his hands. His body trembled with a confusing mix of rage, fear, and something hotter that he refused to name. The chain felt heavier now, a constant reminder of his new reality.

Yet as the morning light poured through the tall windows, painting the luxurious room in gold, Dave couldn’t stop replaying Ryan’s words.

“I wanted you.”

Outside, Kings City continued its glittering, merciless rhythm. Inside the mansion, a far more dangerous game had just begun.