CHAPTER 4

Alejandro’s shadow didn't move. He was a statue of muscle and cold intent, watching me through the dark lenses of his predatory eyes. I signed the last page with a hand that wanted to shake. I didn't let it. I slid the stack back across the glass.

"Done," I said, my voice cutting through the silence.

He didn't smirk this time. He took the papers, his movements methodical, and tucked them away. "Good. You’ve accepted the leash. Now, we mark the property."

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a heavy silver cuff. It wasn't jewelry. It was thick, etched with ancient runes that seemed to hum with a faint, predatory light. A ruby sat in the center, pulsing like a trapped heart.

"Hand," he commanded.

I held out my wrist. His skin was scorching where it brushed mine, a jolt of electricity snapping between us. He snapped the cuff shut. It didn't just sit there; it shrank, molding to my bone until it was impossible to slide off.

"A tracker," Alejandro explained, his voice dropping to a gravelly low. "Teo and I will feel your heartbeat. We’ll know your location down to the inch. If you try to shift and break it, it’ll take your hand with it. Clear?"

I stared at the pulsing red stone. My groin tightened—a traitorous, hot spike of arousal that made my breath hitch. I wasn't terrified. I was panting.

"Clear," I whispered.

"Try to take it off," he dared me, his hands retreating into his pockets.

I clawed at the silver. I looked for a seam, a latch, anything at all. The more I pulled, the tighter the metal gripped my skin, the runes glowing a faint, warning blue. I couldn't even get a fingernail under it.

"Only a Master Key can open that," Alejandro said, rattling a small platinum sphere in a glass case. "And I’m the only one who has it. You’re ours now, Victor. Every inch."

I didn't give him the satisfaction of a breakdown. I turned on my heel and marched out of the office, my heart thundering. I found my room—a sprawling suite of white fur and floor-to-ceiling glass. It was a cage, but it was a magnificent one.

I didn't trust the silence. I scanned the room, looking for the red blink of cameras. I found four. One in the corner, one in the massive walk-in closet, one over the bed, and one embedded in the lamp. They weren't even trying to be subtle. They wanted me to know I was being watched.

I stripped out of the shredded stage gear and stood under the rainfall shower until my skin turned red. I needed to wash the scent of Alejandro off me, but the pine and rain seemed to have soaked into my pores.

I walked into the closet. Rows of designer suits, silk shirts, and cashmere sweaters hung there. All my size. All expensive. But when I looked for the basics, I froze.

No underwear.

Boxers, briefs, trunks—gone. The drawers were empty. I checked again, my face heating up. It wasn't a mistake. It was a message.

I dug through my old duffel bag, found a pair of black briefs, and shoved them on. I wasn't going to play their game yet. I climbed into the massive bed, the silk sheets cool against my skin, and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

The bed dipped.

I bolted upright, my claws mid-shift, before I saw Mateo sitting at the foot of the mattress. He was grinning, his dark hair messy, looking far too relaxed for a man who owned a city.

"You're a light sleeper," Mateo noted.

"New territory," I snapped, rubbing my eyes. The sun was blinding. I’d slept half the day away. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Long enough to appreciate the view." His gaze dropped to my chest, then lower. "Alex told me you signed without a fight. He didn't have to break your spirit, did he?"

"He tried."

Mateo laughed. It was a warm, infectious sound—completely different from Alejandro’s cold rasp. "He’s rough, but he's loyal. Come on. Get up. I have a surprise, and we’re burning daylight."

He jumped up and ran to the closet like a kid. He came back with a sharp, navy blue tailored suit. "Wear this. No tie. I want you to be comfortable."

"You two don't look like twins," I blurted out, watching him.

Mateo paused, the suit draped over his arm. "That’s because we aren't. We were orphans from the same lunar cycle. The Vargas Alpha took us both in. We grew up as two halves of a whole. Shared birthdays, shared blood. It's simpler to just say, twins."

"I see."

"Breakfast is on the counter. Ten minutes, Victor."

I showered again, faster this time, and pulled on the suit. I felt exposed without the underwear, but I’d kept the briefs on. I walked into the kitchen where a spread of steak, eggs, and fruit waited. Mateo was leaning against the counter, a cup of black coffee in his hand.

He didn't say a word. He just walked over, gripped my waist, and pulled me into a kiss that tasted like caffeine and hunger. He hoisted me onto the marble counter, his hands sliding up my thighs, molding the expensive fabric of the suit to my skin. I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair as I pressed my heat against the hard ridge of his jeans.

Then, he stopped.

He pulled back, his brow furrowed. His hand didn't move from my thigh; instead, it slid higher, groping with a sudden, clinical intensity.

"What is this?" Mateo asked, his voice losing its warmth.

I shivered as his fingers pressed against the elastic of my briefs through the suit trousers. "What do you mean?"