Chapter 4: Wolfe's Territory

The next morning came cloaked in gold light and the scent of cedar.

Aria stirred beneath the silk sheets, her body wrapped in warmth and the memory of Sebastian’s touch. He was already gone, of course—ever the CEO, ever the mystery. But his scent lingered. His side of the bed was still warm.

She sat up slowly, her muscles deliciously sore, her lips still tingling from his last kiss.

Married.

The word echoed through her like thunder.

She had married Sebastian Wolfe. Not just in signature, but in presence. In touch. In desire. What started as strategy had turned into something far more dangerous.

Last night wasn’t supposed to happen.

But it had.

And now she couldn’t ignore the way her body had responded to him—not just with heat, but with a hunger that scared her. Sebastian had taken her like he was claiming territory. No hesitation. No mercy. Just pure, unfiltered possession.

And she let him.

She wanted more.

Aria pulled on a robe and padded barefoot into the kitchen. The penthouse was still, silent but alive with luxury—imported marble, art that cost more than most people’s homes, glass walls that displayed a city most only dreamed of conquering.

On the kitchen island sat a small note, written in clean, sharp handwriting:

Breakfast is in the warmer. Meeting until noon. Your schedule begins today. —S

She picked up the note, lips curving.

Of course he had a plan.

Her schedule? The thought almost made her laugh. She wasn’t his intern. But something about the possessiveness in his tone made her stomach flutter.

She liked it. Too much.

---

By noon, Aria was seated in a high-end boutique, stylist after stylist parading options in front of her—couture, diamonds, silks, shoes, shades. Sebastian hadn’t spared a dime. The staff addressed her with a mixture of awe and fear, and she wore his last name like armor.

“You’ll need five looks for the charity gala,” one of them said, holding up a shimmering red gown. “And Mr. Wolfe insisted on a full wardrobe refresh.”

“He does like control,” Aria murmured, admiring her reflection.

“He also likes women who know how to command attention,” another stylist added.

She smiled, filing the comment away.

Her new wardrobe screamed wealth, power, ownership—and maybe a little submission. But she wouldn’t let it define her. She would own the role, but on her terms.

By the time the limo brought her back to the penthouse, she was exhausted, stuffed with champagne, and weighed down by shopping bags worth millions.

But Sebastian was waiting.

The moment she stepped through the door, she saw him—leaning against the window in a slate suit, his tie loosened, his expression unreadable.

He turned slowly as she entered.

“Well?” he asked.

She dropped her clutch on the table and shrugged off her coat, revealing a sleeveless black jumpsuit that hugged every curve.

“You like?” she asked, twirling slowly.

His jaw ticked. “You know I do.”

Aria stepped toward him, eyes gleaming. “Then say it.”

He moved so fast she barely had time to react.

One hand at her throat—firm but not rough—the other wrapping around her waist, yanking her against him. His eyes burned into hers, and she gasped at the intensity.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said lowly.

“And you married a woman who likes danger.”

His lips crashed into hers, hard and unforgiving.

The kiss wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It was a warning.

She kissed him back anyway—just as fiercely.

He spun her around, pressing her against the wall, his breath hot against her neck.

“This is my world now,” he whispered. “And in it, you don’t lead. You surrender.”

Her heart pounded. “To you?”

He nipped her shoulder, making her whimper. “Only to me.”

Her knees weakened. She had never felt like this—so out of control, yet so alive. His dominance didn’t frighten her. It thrilled her.

She turned her head, brushing her lips against his jaw. “Then make me yours again.”

---

Later that night, tangled in silk sheets and sweat, Aria lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Her body was sated, her mind spinning.

She hadn’t expected this.

Not the intimacy. Not the heat.

Not the connection.

Sebastian was a man of power, yes—but also of deep silence. He didn’t speak often. But when he did, it cut to the core. He watched her like he was studying her, learning her.

Like she mattered.

She rolled to her side and found him watching her.

His arm stretched beneath the pillows, bare chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. In this light, he looked younger—less CEO, more man. His hair tousled, his jaw dark with shadow.

“Why me?” she asked quietly. “You could’ve chosen anyone.”

He was silent for a long beat.

Then he said, “Because you don’t pretend. You don’t bend. And when you walk into a room, people look.”

“Because I’m loud.”

“No,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Because you’re undeniable.”

Her heart skipped.

It was the most honest thing he’d said since this all began.

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.

“Careful,” she whispered. “You’re starting to sound like a man who wants more than control.”

He chuckled, low and deep.

“Careful, Aria,” he replied. “You’re starting to sound like a woman who wants to stay.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms and his scent, she realized something that terrified her far more than any contract or vow.

She just might.