CHAPTER TWO

JASON

“Fucking hell.”

The words ripped out of me as I shoved a hand through my hair. My head was pounding, a brutal reminder of the flight from Toronto and the sleepless nights that had come before it. Jet lag clung to me like chains, dragging me under.

The limousine rolled to a stop outside my tower, the streetlamps glinting off the black glass of the building I owned from the foundation to the topmost penthouse. My fortress. My cage.

Beside me, Alex was still running his mouth, smooth as ever, pitching numbers, contracts, promises. I could hear every word and not a single one registered.

“Jason, I’m telling you, this deal—”

I didn’t bother to cut him off with words. Just a look. A single, cold look that said shut the fuck up before I break you.

Alex smirked, unfazed. Typical. Liam had bailed on us back at the airport, ditching the endless business chatter. Smart bastard. I should’ve done the same. But instead, here I was, trapped in a car with Alex and his relentless sales pitch.

The three of us had been kings since college—me, Alex, Liam. Same hunger, same ruthlessness. The difference? I was the one who’d been born with the crown already on my head. The Knight Empire was mine to wield, and I wielded it like a weapon.

Alex was born into old money, too, and our families were practically intertwined. Liam, on the other hand, started from the dirt. I helped him kick-start his first venture years ago, and now the bastard was a self-made millionaire. Couldn’t be prouder of him.

Stepping out of the car, I strode toward my building—seventy floors of glass and steel that belonged to me. A fortress in the middle of the city. Every square inch built to remind the world who the fuck I was.

My private elevator was waiting, sealed tight with security that would chew up anyone stupid enough to try to breach it. Alex followed me in like a shadow that didn’t know when to disappear.

“Jason,” he pressed again, leaning casually against the mirrored wall, “this could be huge. The company wants—”

“You’ve got money, Alex.” I swiped my card and keyed in the penthouse. “So why the fuck do you need me?”

He grinned, that shark-like smile of his. “Because they don’t just want money. They want you. The Knight name. Prestige. You’re the brand, Jason. They’ll only sign if you’re on board.”

I felt my jaw clench. Dangerous. I’d built my empire on sniffing out rot before it spread. Companies that demanded my signature instead of my capital always hid something. Always.

“They want me,” I said flatly. “Then they’ll get the full weight of what that means. If they’re clean, fine. If not, I’ll tear them apart and salt the ground they crawled out of.”

Alex chuckled. “Always so dramatic.”

The elevator chimed, doors sliding open to my sanctuary. I stepped forward—ready to go into my bedroom to strip, shower, and drown this headache in scotch—only to stop dead.

Bent over one of my couches, dusting the cushions, was a woman. No, not a woman. A vision. Curves sculpted by sin itself, denim shorts clinging to her hips, a tank top stretched over breasts that could tempt a saint to burn in hell.

A low whistle slipped out before I could stop it.

She jolted upright, smacking her head against the armrest.

“Shit,” I muttered as she winced, rubbing her temple. Then she turned.

And for the first time in years, I forgot how to breathe.

Curved. Plump. Perfect.

Mocha skin that glowed under the soft light. Midnight-black hair cascading down to her waist. And eyes—Christ, those eyes. Storm-gray, sharp and vulnerable all at once. A face so delicate it made you want to ruin it with pleasure.

Lips that looked sinful just parting to breathe. She was young—too young not my type young —and yet my blood heated instantly, primal and possessive.

My pulse spiked. She crossed her arms, taking a cautious step back.

“Who are you?” The words came out sharper than I meant, edged with command.

“I—I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered, arms wrapping around herself.

“Mr. Knight!” Anne’s flustered voice cut her off as she hurried into the room. “You’re early. We weren’t expecting until tomorrow."

I didn’t look at Anne. My gaze was locked on the girl. “Anne. Explain.”

Anne’s hands fluttered nervously. “This is Jasmin Rose. Your new maid.”

My what?

I scanned her slowly, deliberately. No. She didn’t look like any maid I’d ever seen. She looked like a goddess who had no business cleaning my penthouse.

“My maid,” I repeated, voice heavy with disbelief.

“Yes, sir. The replacement you requested.”

Right. I had told Anne to find someone. Someone efficient, discreet, manageable. But this… This was trouble wrapped in denim and silk. And my body was betraying me with every passing second.

Behind me, Alex let out a dark laugh. “Does she have to dress like that? Looks more like she’s ready to spread her legs than scrub your floors.”

Jasmin flinched. Anne gasped. My blood boiled.

“Alex.” My tone was a warning.

He didn’t stop. “Come on, Jason. She knows what she’s doing. Shorts like that, tight top… She’s begging for attention.”

My patience snapped. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. The air thickened anyway. Alex, for once, got the message, he raised his hands in mock surrender and sauntered toward the bar.

But Jasmin’s eyes shimmered, a tear streaking down her cheek. Something twisted inside me. Something primal. I didn’t like that look on her. Not in my home.

“Don’t cry.” I forced my voice softer. “He’s an asshole. Ignore him.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Knight,” Her voice broke. “I’ll wear my uniform from now on.”

Uniform. Christ. My mind painted the picture instantly—short skirt, lace apron, thigh-high stockings. My cock hardened. I clenched my jaw to stop myself from reacting.

“No need,” I muttered, turning away. “It’s fine. My fault for coming back early."

She hesitated, then said quietly, “Anne said you wanted to speak with me?”

Right. The live-in condition. Anne had better not screwed that up.

“Yes,” I said, locking eyes with her. “I don’t hire part-time strangers. I need a maid who lives here. In my home. Under my roof. Every hour of every day.”

Her eyes widened. “Live… in?”

She turned toward Anne, who flinched under my stare.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Anne stammered. “I forgot to add that detail to the listing.”

She turned toward Anne, who flinched under my stare.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Anne stammered. “I forgot to add that detail to the listing.”

I cut her a sharp look. “Careless again. You’re skating on thin ice, Anne. Keep testing me and you’ll regret it.”

“No, please,” Jasmin burst out suddenly. Her voice trembled but she met my gaze, fierce despite her fear. “Don’t fire her. It’s my fault—I should have asked.”

Interesting. Protective. Brave. Sweet.

I let the silence draw out until she squirmed. Then I said evenly, “So. Will you move in?”

Her throat bobbed. “Yes, sir. I’ll move in.”

Good girl.

“Get your things,” I ordered, turning away.

“Sir?”

Her voice stopped me again, soft and uncertain. Vulnerable. “If I move in… can I still attend college?”

College. So she was young. My chest tightened. My mind spun. A young college student under my roof, under my control. She’d have no idea how dangerous that made her.

“Yes,” I said slowly. “As long as your duties are fulfilled, you can study as much as you want.”

Her voice stopped me again, soft and uncertain. “If I move in… can I still attend college?”

School. She was younger than I thought. Fresh. Untouched. My chest tightened.

“Yes,” I said slowly, watching her. “As long as your work doesn’t suffer, you can study as much as you like.”

Her relief broke across her face like sunlight. A smile so pure it sliced through the shadows in me and I damn near lost my composure.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Fuck. That smile. Those lips. They would ruin me.

I muttered a curse and turned on my heel, stalking into my bedroom before I did something reckless. The door slammed behind me, but her face—her voice—her curves haunted me.

The image of her wouldn’t leave. Not her voice. Not her body. Not that look in her storm-gray eyes.

She was temptation. A weakness I couldn’t afford.

And yet I already knew—

I would claim her.

Not gently. Not sweetly.

But fully.

Even if it meant burning everything else down around us.

She was dangerous. Too sweet, too tempting.

And I was already unraveling.

I needed her.

And I would have her.

Even if it meant burning everything else down.