Chapter 4

Cassiel’s POV

I watched Julian closely, my steel-gray eyes hidden behind the smooth mask. The younger man sat rigidly in the leather seat across from me, his jaw locked tight, his hazel eyes sharp with defiance. I could feel the energy radiating off him—anger, suspicion, exhaustion.

And yet, he didn’t truly understand his situation. Not yet.

The luxury car slid through the dark streets, heading toward an undisclosed location. I had made sure Julian wouldn’t remember the route. A touch of sedative in his drink was all it took. He had refused the whiskey he’d been offered earlier, but I had anticipated that. I had simply waited for the right moment, offering water instead.

It took less than five minutes for his body to betray him. His grip on his thighs had loosened, his posture softening as his breaths slowed.

The last thing he had managed was a sharp glare before his body gave out.

Now, I sat across from him, my fingers tapping absently against his knee. The car’s headlights sliced through the night, but I paid no attention to the roads. My mind was elsewhere.

“You didn’t have to drug him,” a smooth voice murmured from beside me.

I didn’t turn. I already knew the irritation was clearly written on her face.

“Would you rather he knew where we’re going?” I asked coolly.

My masked companion leaned back, her red lips curving in amusement. “You never play fair.”

I smirked. “I never lose, either.”

She reached out, running her fingers along my forearm. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” I refused flatly.

Her fingers stilled. “No?”

I turned to face her. “You’ll be escorted home.”

Her gaze darkened. “And why is that?”

“Because I said so.”

Tension crackled in the air between us. For a long moment, she stared at me, as if debating whether to argue. But then, with a quiet huff, she leaned back into her seat, arms crossed.

I turned to Enzo, who was driving. “Take her home.”

Enzo glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Understood.”

The car rolled to a slow stop outside an elegant high-rise. One of my men opened the door, waiting for her to step out.

She didn’t move at first. Then, slowly, she turned to me. “You’re making a mistake.”

I arched a brow beneath his mask. “Am I?”

Her lips curled. “You always get bored of them.”

I didn’t grace her with a single response. I merely tilted my head, waiting.

With a sharp exhale, she stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the pavement. But before the door shut, she leaned down, her eyes gleaming beneath her mask.

“You might own him now,” she murmured. “But we both know I own you.”

The door clicked shut.

I didn’t look back as the car pulled away, but I didn’t need to. Because I already knew she was standing there, arms crossed, watching as we disappeared into the night.

______________________

The villa was secluded, nestled deep in the countryside with acres of private land surrounding it. No prying eyes. No curious ears. Only silence.

I stepped out first, adjusting my cuffs as I turned to Enzo. “Bring him inside.”

Enzo nodded, already moving to open the car door.

Julian was still unconscious, his body lax as Enzo hauled him over his shoulder with practiced ease. I led the way inside, my footsteps echoing against the marble floors.

The bedroom was dimly lit, a fire crackling in the hearth. I gestured toward the bed, and Enzo laid Julian down before stepping back.

“Stay outside,” I ordered.

Enzo gave a short nod before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

For a moment, I simply watched Julian.

The younger man stirred slightly, his brows furrowing as the sedative wore off. I moved to the bar cart, pouring myself a glass of whiskey as I waited.

Then—

A quiet groan.

His breathing hitched, his fingers twitching before his hazel eyes slowly fluttered open.

I took a slow sip of my drink and gestured with flair as a smirk crept over my face. “Welcome back.”

Julian stiffened. His eyes darted around the room before landing on me — still masked, still unreadable.

“You drugged me,” He rasped, pushing himself upright. His muscles were tense, but I could see the slight sway in his movements. He wasn’t fully steady yet.

My smirk widened a bit. “Would you have come willingly?”

His glare was answer enough.

I set my drink down. “Stand up.”

But he didn’t move.

My voice deepened. “I said — stand up.”

Jaw clenched, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pushing himself to his feet. He was still wearing the same disheveled clothes from the auction—his white shirt wrinkled and his slacks slightly loose from the way he’d been handled.

I let the silence stretch between us before I spoke again. “Strip.”

I heard his breath catch. His shoulders went rigid and his fingers curled into fists. “What?”

I leaned back against the table, my expression the perfect picture of calm. “Take your clothes off.”

His nostrils flared. “If you think I’m going to—”

I tilted my head. “You sold yourself tonight, remember?” My voice was smooth, but there was an edge beneath it. “You signed yourself away to the highest bidder. And that bidder… was me.”

His jaw clenched and his hazel eyes burned with anger. But I saw the flicker of something else, buried deep beneath the fury.

Unease.

Not fear. No, Julian wasn’t the type to cower. But he hated the loss of control.

I smirked. “Are you going to pretend you didn’t expect this?”

His breathing was steady, controlled. But I saw the pulse in his throat, rapid beneath his skin.

Seconds passed.

Then — He lifted his chin. “Fine,” he bit out.

My eyes darkened.

He reached for the first button of his shirt, undoing it with sharp, precise movements. Then the next. And the next. Until the fabric hung open, exposing the taut lines of his chest.

I watched, unmoving.

The firelight cast golden shadows over his skin, highlighting the smooth planes of his abdomen and the sharp cut of his collarbone. A scar stretched faintly across his palm as he pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

My gaze was calm… unreadable, but my fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

Julian held his ground, refusing to look away.

A slow smirk curved over my lips. “Good boy.”

His breath hitched just slightly — a flicker of something heated flashing across his face before he masked it.

I took a step forward.

He didn’t back away.

I reached up, slowly, deliberately, trailing my fingers along his jawline. A test. A provocation.

He tensed—but he didn’t pull away and smirk deepened with the promise of excitement.

My voice dropped lower, like silk and steel.

“Now, let’s see if you’re worth what I paid for.”