CHAPTER 2

"You really think you're in charge because you bought a few shares, Ethan? What a fucking joke."

Caleb kicked his leather shoes off. They hit the marble floor of the penthouse with a dull thud. He didn't look like a man who just lost a billion-dollar empire. He looked like a man who had finally stopped pretending.

"I didn't buy 'a few shares,' Caleb. I bought everything." Ethan stood by the heavy oak door, his fingers digging into the wood. His knuckles were white. "The board, the assets, the debt. And I bought this." He gestured to the room, then to Caleb. "I own you for the next five years. You’re my employee. My subordinate."

"Employee?" Caleb let out a sharp, jagged laugh. He unbuttoned his cuffs, letting the gold links clatter onto a side table. "You’ve spent ten years obsessing over my shadow, and now that you finally caught it, you’re shaking. Look at your hands, Ethan. You’re terrified."

"I'm not terrified. I’m satisfied." Ethan marched across the room. He grabbed the lapels of Caleb’s expensive wool coat and shoved him backward.

Caleb’s back hit the edge of the grand piano. The strings inside groaned, a dissonant, haunting chord that filled the silence. He didn't fight back. He just stared, his eyes dark and dilated.

"Is this the part where you tell me how much you hate me?" Caleb whispered. His breath smelled like expensive bourbon and raw nerves.

"This is the part where you pay your debts." Ethan’s voice cracked. He leaned in, his chest heaving. "Every contract you stole. Every time you laughed at me in the boardroom. Every girl you took just to prove you could."

Caleb’s hand flew up. Not to hit, but to grab the back of Ethan’s neck. His fingers were like ice, digging into the hairline. "Then stop talking and do something about it. Or are you still waiting for my permission?"

Ethan didn't wait. He lunged, his mouth crashing against Caleb’s in a way that wasn't a kiss—it was a collision. He tasted blood. Someone’s lip had split. Caleb groaned into the contact, a sound that started deep in his chest and vibrated through Ethan’s bones.

They tore at each other’s clothes. It wasn't graceful. Buttons popped and skittered across the floor like teeth. Ethan’s jacket was tossed into the dark. Caleb’s shirt was ripped open, the silk ruined.

Ethan pinned Caleb’s wrists against the mahogany lid of the piano. The cold wood was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off Caleb’s skin. Ethan bit down on the junction of Caleb’s neck and shoulder, his teeth sinking deep.

"Ah! Shit—" Caleb’s back arched. His muscles corded under Ethan’s hands.

"You’re mine," Ethan hissed against his skin. "Say it."

"I'm... your worst fucking mistake," Caleb wheezed.

Suddenly, the weight shifted. Caleb didn't just push; he exploded upward. He twisted his torso, using Ethan’s momentum against him. In a blur of movement, the world flipped.

Ethan’s back slammed into the piano. The air left his lungs in a sharp gasp. Before he could inhale, Caleb’s weight was on him. Caleb’s hands were no longer pinned; they were shackles around Ethan’s wrists, slamming them down onto the keys. A chaotic, loud cluster of notes rang out through the suite.

"You think a piece of paper changes who we are?" Caleb’s face was inches away. His sweat dripped onto Ethan’s cheek. "You’re a bean-counter, Ethan. A vulture. You wait for things to die so you can pick at them. But I’m still breathing."

"Get off me—"

"No. I don't think I will." Caleb’s knee forced Ethan’s legs apart. "You wanted to see what you bought? You bought a predator who was tired of hunting. You didn't conquer me. You gave me a place to hide while I rebuild."

Caleb reached down. He didn't fumble. He was clinical, fast. He slicked his fingers with a bottle of oil he’d snatched from the nearby table earlier. He shoved two fingers into Ethan, blunt and deep.

"Fuck!" Ethan’s head hit the piano lid. His vision went white. The stretch was sudden, a burning invasion that made his hips jerk uncontrollably.

"Relax," Caleb growled. He added a third finger, his knuckles bruising the sensitive skin of Ethan's inner thighs. "You wanted dominance, right? You wanted to feel the power? This is it. This is the reality of what you asked for."

Caleb didn't give him time to adjust. He freed his cock, thick and pulsing, and lined himself up. He drove in with one heavy, violent thrust.

Ethan screamed. The sound was raw, bouncing off the marble walls. It felt like he was being torn in two. Caleb’s cock rolled deep into him, stretching the walls of his pussy until it felt like they would snap. The sheer size of him was overwhelming.

Caleb didn't stop. He began to pound.

It was a rhythmic, brutal assault. Thud. Thud. Thud. Ethan’s body slid against the polished wood of the piano with every strike. Caleb’s hands stayed locked on Ethan’s wrists, pinning him down while he worked.

"Look at me," Caleb commanded.

Ethan opened his eyes, his breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches. Caleb looked possessed. His hair was matted with sweat, his eyes fixed on Ethan with a predatory intensity. He was pouncing so hard that Ethan’s entire frame shook.

"Whose... whose am I?" Caleb grunted, his pace increasing.

Ethan couldn't speak. He could only feel the friction, the stinging heat where their bodies met, and the heavy, literal weight of Caleb crushing him. The salt of Caleb’s sweat dripped into Ethan’s mouth.

Caleb shifted positions, hauling Ethan’s legs up until his knees were tucked against his chest. He dove back in, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper. Ethan’s eyes rolled back. His body was a live wire.

"Scream for me, Ethan. Let the neighbors hear who really owns this floor."

Ethan let out a broken, high-pitched cry as Caleb hit his climax. He felt the hot, thick surge of Caleb’s cum filling him, a heavy internal warmth that made his muscles spasm. Seconds later, Ethan followed, his own release hitting the dark wood of the piano, his body racking with tremors that wouldn't stop.

Caleb slumped forward, his forehead resting against Ethan’s. Their breaths mingled, both of them gasping for air in the cooling room. The "hangover" hit immediately—the stinging skin, the shaking limbs, the dull ache in Ethan’s hips.

Caleb pulled out slowly. The wet sound made Ethan flinch.

"The board meeting is at nine," Caleb said, his voice cold and professional again, as if the last twenty minutes hadn't happened. He stood up, ignored his ruined shirt, and walked toward the bathroom. "Try not to limp when you walk in."

Ethan lay on the piano, staring at the ceiling. He had the signature. He had the company. But as he felt the warmth of Caleb’s seed leaking out of him, he realized the trap hadn't been the contract.

The trap was the man.

The bathroom door opened, but it wasn't Caleb. It was a man in a gray suit holding a tablet.

"The transfer is complete, Mr. Walker," the man said, not looking at Ethan’s naked, trembling form. "But there's a problem. The offshore accounts Caleb signed over? They’re empty. He moved the money ten minutes before he signed the papers."

Ethan’s heart dropped into his throat. He looked at the bathroom door.

The shower was running, but the window in there was wide open to the fire escape. Caleb was gone. And so was the forty million.