Chapter Fourteen: Marked Territory

He stares at the darkened screen in his palm, his jaw set in a grim, unforgiving line. He doesn't intend to repeat the same mistake twice, the woman who destroyed him haunts the periphery of his vision, but Rhea is the penance. 

This time, he won't lose. This time, he will break her before the world can even try to touch her.

Dominic stands at the floor-to-ceiling window, the city lights reflecting in his eyes like distant, dying stars. In his hand, Rhea’s dead phone feels like a trophy or a weapon. He glances toward the bed, where Rhea is a pale, bruised shadow amidst the black silk sheets.

He should feel satisfied. He claimed her. He marked her. But the silence of the penthouse is a trigger.

The silence is where the memories live.

Suddenly, he isn't in a penthouse. He is in a smaller, warmer apartment. He is kneeling. Not in prayer, but at Ava’s feet. 

He remembers how he used to hold her with hands that were soft, hesitant, and terrified of breaking her. He had been the "good man" every woman prays for. 

He spent millions of dollars to see her smile, forgave her the first time he caught her in another man's bed, and begged for the privilege of loving her even after the second…begged her not to leave.

"You’re too kind, Dominic," Ava’s voice hisses in his memory, dripping with a contempt that still stings. "You’re boring. I don't want a provider; I want a master. I want someone who owns me and will punish me, not someone who asks for permission."

The memory shifts, turning jagged and red. He sees the ledger: the millions she drained from his accounts while she was tangled in the sheets with his own business partner. 

He feels the phantom itch of the scar on his side; the blade she hired a man to drive into his ribs because his "kindness" wasn't enough to keep her from wanting his empire for herself.

Dominic’s grip tightens on the window ledge until his knuckles turn white.

He turns away from the city and approaches the bed. 

He looks down at Rhea. To the world, she is a high-level executive. 

To him, she was supposed to be a toy; a mindless distraction to occupy his bed but then he falls in love again. 

And the moment Julian’s name flashed on that screen, the old poison leaked back into his blood.

He reaches out, his thumb tracing a dark, blooming mark on Rhea’s shoulder: the brand he left earlier.

If these women want a master, I will be the only one they ever know, he thinks, his gaze darkening with a terrifying, warped logic.

He convinced himself that kindness is a weakness that leads to betrayal. 

If Ava wanted a man who would pin her to a wall and break her spirit, then he would give Rhea exactly that. He will love her with a violence that leaves no room for other men. He will be the rough, territorial beast Ava claimed he could never be.

Rhea stirs in her sleep, a soft, broken whimper escaping her lips.

Dominic doesn't comfort her. Instead, he climbs into the bed, pulling her shivering, naked body against his hard, unforgiving heat. He locks his arm around her waist, pinning her to him.

"You won't leave me with anything to forgive, Fragile," he whispers into the dark, his voice a low, guttural vow. "Because I’m never going to give you enough room to breathe, let alone betray me."

He closes his eyes, finally finding a twisted kind of peace. He is done being the good man. He is the monster now, and Rhea is the only one trapped in his cage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rhea wakes to the sharp, metallic click of a heavy door sealing her inside the penthouse. The silence that follows is suffocating, bathed in the gray, unforgiving light of a sunny Tuesday.

She lies motionless in the center of the king-sized bed, the silk sheets feeling like sheets of ice against her sensitized skin. She reaches for her phone instinctively. It isn't there.

On the nightstand sit a glass of water, two pieces of cold toast, and two painkillers. Beside them sits a brand-new shopping bag from a boutique where even the socks cost more than her rent.

Inside is her "uniform": a knit midi-dress in a shade of deep, bruised plum. It is elegant and professional, but as Rhea pulls it on with numb fingers, she realizes its true purpose. It covers every inch of her skin, from her collarbone to her mid-calf, hiding the map of ownership Dominic bit into her flesh the night before.

A note is pinned to the sleeve in a sharp, arrogant script:

I expect you at your desk by 9:00 AM. Wear this.

Every movement is an ache. Every step reminds her of the “Claim" - the stiffness in her muscles and the hollow, echoing void in her chest. She feels like a ghost inhabiting a beautiful, expensive shell as she steps into the office at 8:55 AM.

She sees him immediately.

Julian is hunched over his desk, his back to her. He looks like he hasn't slept in a week. When the elevator dings, he snaps his head around so fast his neck must arch.

The moment their eyes meet, Rhea feels her heart shatter into a million jagged pieces.

He stands up, his chair scraping violently against the floor. He stares at her, taking in the high-end dress, the tired shadows under her eyes, and the way she holds herself - braced as if for a blow.

"Rhea," he breathes, rushing toward her. "I called you. I called you ten times. Texted you. I was about to call the police, I thought something happened to you—"

Rhea stops at her desk, her knuckles turning white as she grips the edge of the table. She can feel Dominic’s door in front of her. It is closed, but she knows he is behind it, listening. Watching.

"My phone died, Julian," she says, her voice flat, sounding like a recording of herself. "And please... we need to stop this. I’m not interested in you."

Run, Julian. Please just run so he doesn't destroy you.

Julian freezes three feet away, his face twisting with raw hurt.

"Rhea, what are you saying? I thought we clicked. I thought we were building something... something beautiful."

"We never clicked, Julian," she snaps, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain cold. "I was bored. You were just a distraction. Let’s just end whatever this was before it actually starts."

"A distraction?" Julian’s voice rises, thick with emotion. "I love you, Rhea! I’m ready to build a life with you. We aren't getting any younger, I wanted to take you to meet my—"

"Don't," Rhea whispers, the word catching in her throat. "Don't finish that sentence. Please."

"Why are you wearing that?" Julian asks, his eyes dropping to the plum dress. He isn't stupid; he knows the price of that fabric.

"If this is about money, Rhea... if you’re scared I can’t provide... I have savings. I’ve been investing. I can buy you nicer things than—"

The heavy door to the executive suite swings open.

Dominic Ashcroft stands in the threshold, looking refreshed and lethal in a charcoal suit. He looks at Julian with the bored expression of a man looking at an annoying insect he is about to crush.

"Is there a problem, Julian?" Dominic’s voice is smooth as silk and twice as dangerous.

Julian stiffens, his eyes darting between his boss and Rhea. "No, sir. I was just... checking on Ms. Voss. She seemed unwell."

Dominic walks over, stopping directly behind Rhea. He doesn't touch her, but he stands so close she can feel the predatory heat radiating from his chest. He places a hand on the back of her chair: a silent, dominant claim of territory.

"Ms. Voss is perfectly fine," Dominic says, his eyes locking onto Julian’s with a terrifying intensity. "She had a very... productive night. Didn't you?"

Rhea can't breathe. She is a prize being fought over by a man who loves her and a monster who owns her.

"Yes, sir," she whispers, her head bowing in submission.

Dominic tilts his head, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "By the way, Julian, I’ve noticed you’ve been on your phone quite a bit during billable hours. Perhaps we should hand it over to HR for a security audit. We wouldn't want any... private messages... leaking out and ruining your entire career, would we?"

The color drains from Julian’s face.

The threat is loud and clear

"No, sir. I’m sorry, sir," Julian stammers, bowing his head in total defeat.

"Get to work, Julian," Dominic commands, his voice dropping into a low growl.

He turns to Rhea, his shadow falling over her. "And Ms. Voss? My office. Now. We have a lot to catch up on."