Chapter 15: The Volkov Residence

Leo Vance

I don't know how long I stayed collapsed against Dmitri, my face buried in his expensive coat, my entire body convulsing with tears of shame and a terrifying, sick relief. The weight of his arm around my waist, holding me up, felt like the anchor of the world. I had said the words. I had given them the command: Make me forget. Stop me from having a choice. The surrender was complete.

Ivan stood over us, his hand resting lightly on the back of Dmitri’s shoulder, a gesture that was both fraternal and proprietary—a claim over both of us. His voice was soft, devoid of the previous interrogation edge.

“You’ve made the correct calculation, Leo,” Ivan murmured, his voice sounding tired, almost relieved. “The resistance was unsustainable. Now we move into a period of dedicated stabilization. The public phase is over for tonight.”

Dmitri shifted, his grip tightening as he lifted me gently away from his chest. He held my face between his large, warm hands, wiping the wet streaks from my cheeks with his thumb. There was no pity in his eyes, only intense, focused possession.

“The event is finished,” Dmitri stated, his voice a low, final resonance. “You are visibly compromised. We are leaving the city now. You will come with us.”

My mind, numb and exhausted, could only process fragments. “Leaving? Where are we going? I can’t just disappear. My mother…”

“Eleanor has been handled,” Ivan cut in, already moving toward the door and checking the corridor through a tiny peephole. “She believes you became ill after too much executive assessment. Arthur is perfectly satisfied. Your exit is covered. You are officially ‘indisposed’ for the foreseeable future.”

Dmitri kept his hands on my face, forcing me to hold his gaze. “You asked us to remove your choices. We are executing the first command. You don’t need to pack. You don’t need to think. You will simply comply with the transit.”

The finality of it all was terrifying. This wasn't just a physical capture; it was the total erasure of my life. But beneath the terror, a paralyzing, awful peace was settling in. I don’t have to choose. I don’t have to fight.

“Where are you taking me?” I whispered, the exhaustion making my voice almost nonexistent.

Dmitri’s eyes darkened with that predatory satisfaction that always unnerved me. “Somewhere safe, Leo. Somewhere we can ensure your focus remains entirely on us. Somewhere there are no distractions from the necessary work.”

The drive was long, silent, and brutal. I was seated in the back of a black armored SUV, sandwiched between them. Ivan was on my right, focused on a sleek tablet, occasionally answering a call in rapid-fire German, maintaining the external world while Dmitri maintained the internal one.

Dmitri sat close, his arm resting on the back of the seat, his hand occasionally dropping to the bare skin of my neck, right where my pulse hammered. He wasn’t squeezing, just claiming. The contact was minimal, yet utterly dominating.

I leaned my head against the cold glass, staring at the blurred lights of the highway. I was silent, lost in a monologue of self-recrimination and despair.

This is it. I really did it. I handed them the leash. I hated them, I cursed them, but when they applied the pressure, I broke, and I found the break point felt… easy. Dmitri is right. I’m a coward. I just wanted someone to be stronger than my own will. And now, they own me.

I felt Dmitri’s fingers brush the hair at the nape of my neck.

“Your breathing is stabilizing, Leo,” Dmitri observed, his voice a low, steady rumble next to my ear.

“You’re suffocating me,” I mumbled, not moving my head.

“No,” Ivan countered from my other side, without looking up from his tablet. “Suffocation is the removal of necessary elements. We are removing the unnecessary chaos. You are shedding the high-cost anxiety of maintaining a defense that you never truly wanted.”

I closed my eyes, a single, hot tear tracing a path down my temple. “You’re talking about me like I’m a software update. Not a person.”

“We talk about you as the highly complex, volatile resource that you are,” Dmitri responded, his fingers now gently tracing the curve of my ear. The touch was unnervingly tender. “We are both highly organized. We respect the structure. We respect the transaction. Your body has accepted the efficiency of our control. Your mind will follow.”

“I’ll never stop hating you,” I said fiercely, though the lack of conviction in my voice was humiliating.

Ivan finally put down his tablet, turning his full attention to me. His expression was serious, almost philosophical. “Good. We don’t want you to stop hating us, Leo. Your hatred is the edge, the tension we require. It keeps you sharp, keeps you beautiful. But we want you to hate us for what we take, not for what you feel. And what you feel is a dangerous, thrilling relief.”

He reached out, mirroring Dmitri, and placed his hand lightly on my thigh. The two touches—one cold and possessive from Dmitri, one warm and intimate from Ivan—felt like two halves of a single chain, binding me completely.

“You conceded because the pleasure of surrender outweighed the pain of fighting,” Ivan whispered. “That’s not weakness. That’s an honest response to superior force. We appreciate the honesty.”

I felt trapped, not just by the men and the car, but by the devastating accuracy of their analysis. They saw the darkest, most secret part of me—the part that craved their dominance—and they loved it.

The drive ended abruptly, the car pulling through high, wrought-iron gates and winding up a long, dark driveway. The building that emerged from the shadows was not a tower, but a sprawling, secluded stone manor, ancient and intimidating, overlooking the black expanse of a deep-country lake. It was beautiful, isolated, and chillingly final.

“Welcome to the Volkov Residence,” Dmitri announced, opening the door.

We walked into a silent, vast foyer. The space was filled with deep shadows and expensive quiet. The air smelled of old wood and the faintest hint of chlorine from an unseen indoor pool.

I pulled away from Dmitri, stumbling slightly into the center of the room. “This is a prison. Why here? Why so far away?”

Ivan stepped close, his hand resting on my shoulder, guiding me deeper into the house. “This is our private space, Leo. No staff, no unexpected interruptions. Total isolation. Here, there is only us. And here, we complete the assimilation.”

He led me into a massive living area, where a fire was already burning in a stone hearth.

I stopped, turning to face them, the terror surging back, pushing against the terrible calm of my surrender. I was alone with them, miles from anything familiar, and the reality of my capture crashed down on me.

“No,” I choked out, shaking my head violently. “No. I can’t. I surrendered my choice, but I didn’t surrender my self. I hate this place! I hate being locked in!”

Tears sprang to my eyes again, but this time they were different—pure, animal fear. I backed away until I hit the cold, smooth wall.

“I won’t do this! I won’t be your possession! I curse you both! You should have just left me alone in the city! I hate you, and I hate that I want you to touch me!” I was sobbing, my voice raw and desperate.

Dmitri walked toward me, slowly, deliberately, forcing me to watch him. He was terrifying in his lack of haste. Ivan remained near the fire, watching, observing the full spectrum of my breakdown.

“Your self-hatred is the last point of friction, Leo,” Dmitri said, stopping inches from me. He didn't touch, but the heat of his body was overwhelming. “You hate what you crave. But the craving is stronger. Look at me. Stop fighting the inevitable.”

My gaze was locked on his, pleading, frantic. “Please… I can’t breathe. Just stay away. Just give me one night alone. Please.”

Dmitri’s eyes softened, a dangerous, intimate tenderness appearing in their gray depths. It was the humanity I'd been searching for, and it was directed entirely at my complete destruction.

“We understand the fear of the final surrender,” Dmitri murmured, reaching out and gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “But you don’t get to be alone anymore, Leo. That was the price of the agreement. You asked us to command you. You asked us to forget your choices. And we will.”

Ivan stepped forward, finishing the thought, his voice carrying the final word. “We told you, Leo. We are possessive. Obsessed. And here, in our residence, there are no distractions. You belong to us. And we are here to show you that the taste of surrender is far sweeter than the poison of denial.”

Dmitri backed me against the wall, leaning in until his mouth was inches from mine. “You are tired, Leo. And you are finally home. We have a long night ahead of us.”

I could only close my eyes, the terror and the desperate, humiliating pleasure merging into a single, overwhelming sensation. My freedom was gone, an

d I was utterly, irrevocably, their captive.