THE RULES BETWEEN SKIN

There were moments in the mansion when time seemed to stretch.

Like silk pulled tight.

Like breath held.

And tonight was one of them.

Calla stood in front of the full-length mirror in the guest wing’s walk-in closet — though “guest” was too small a word for this space. A floor-to-ceiling mirror watched her like a silent witness as she fastened the last button of the black dress Damien had left her.

He chose her clothes now.

He hadn’t said it aloud — but she could feel it in every hem, every fabric that kissed her skin like a test. Tonight’s dress was satin. High-necked. Sleeveless. With a slit that defied modesty.

She didn’t hate it.

She hated that she liked it.

A knock on the door.

No—three knocks, slow and deliberate.

Damien.

When she opened the door, he didn’t speak. His eyes swept over her in that chilling, heated way that made her skin rise and her thighs ache. He didn’t compliment her. He didn’t need to.

The silence was the compliment.

He simply offered his arm.

Tonight, it wasn’t a car waiting outside.

It was Julian.

“Evening, beautiful,” Julian said with that crooked grin he wore like armor. “You look sinful.”

“She looks like mine,” Damien answered, stepping in between their gazes. “Drive.”

Julian raised a brow but said nothing.

Calla noticed the flicker in his eyes before he turned — the subtle shift. Curious. Calculating.

There was something in his gaze too. Something like... recognition.

---

They drove to a restaurant hidden behind an art gallery — no signs, no crowd, just velvet doors and low, golden light. The kind of place where power never introduced itself by name.

Damien didn’t say much through the meal. But he watched her.

Every bite. Every shift of her legs. Every blink.

And when she excused herself to the restroom, he followed her.

She barely made it to the private powder room before he stepped inside behind her and shut the door.

“Damien—”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

She stilled.

Her back was to the sink. Her pulse pounded against the choker on her throat. He stood inches away, one hand braced on the mirror behind her, caging her in.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He leaned in.

“You’re wearing my dress. My collar. You came here in my car. And you look at me like you want to break me.”

Her breath caught.

“Why do I scare you, Calla?”

She whispered, “Because I don’t know what you want.”

“I want your surrender.”

“You already have control—”

“No,” he said. “Control is easy. I want your willingness.”

His hand slid along her side — not possessively, not forcefully. But reverently. As if she were something rare. Fragile. Fire that could either warm or burn.

“I want the moment you choose me, even though you shouldn't.”

Then his mouth was on her neck.

Hot. Commanding. Dangerous.

She didn’t stop him.

Her fingers tangled in his suit jacket as he pressed her against the cool marble counter. His body molded against hers, hard and certain.

He tasted like whiskey and sin.

And when his hand slid up her thigh beneath the slit of her dress, she didn’t move to stop it. She just gasped when his fingers grazed skin.

“Say it,” he murmured against her throat. “Tell me who you belong to.”

She almost said his name.

Almost.

But then…

A knock on the door. Sharp. Urgent.

Julian’s voice followed from the other side.

“Sorry to ruin the foreplay,” he drawled, “but we’ve got a problem.”

---

Back at the mansion, Calla paced while Damien and Julian spoke in hushed tones in his study. The walls were thick, but not impenetrable.

She crept close enough to catch words:

“She’s not just a contract.”

“The file’s resurfaced—her father’s side, not just her mother.”

“We have less time than we thought.”

“You knew this would happen.”

And then…

“If you care about her, Damien, now’s the time to stop pretending you don’t.”

Calla backed away.

Fast.

Her heart thundered. What file? What father?

What had she been pulled into?

---

That night, she didn’t remove the choker.

She wore it as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Not because she was owned.

But because she wanted to understand what owning someone truly meant… and why Damien Voss, beneath all his dominance and ice, seemed to be trying to protect her from something far darker.

And far closer.