LOGINThe sixth night fractured the silence.Alexei lay awake long after the city lights dimmed to their lowest glow. The heavier chains weighed on his wrists and ankles, cold metal biting into raw skin with every shallow breath. His body was a map of fire chest cuts stinging under fresh bandages, thigh wound throbbing in time with his pulse, the deep ache inside him from Luca’s reward refusing to fade. Thirst had settled into a constant, metallic burn at the back of his throat.But for the first time since the door first locked behind him, Alexei’s mind sharpened past survival.He started mapping.While the chain kept him tethered to the bedpost, he could still turn his head. Shift his shoulders. Count steps in his memory from the little he’d seen when Luca moved him. The penthouse layout took shape behind his eyes: the bedroom with its blood-streaked window overlooking the rain-slicked city, the short hallway to the left that led to what he guessed was the main living area, the faint elec
The silence after the orgasm felt heavier than the chain.Alexei lay on his back, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts, fresh bandages sticking to the cuts across his torso. His body still hummed with the aftershocks cock softening against his stomach, thighs trembling, the deep ache where Luca had been buried inside him lingering like a brand. Cum and blood smeared the sheets beneath him. The chain lay loose across his wrist, but the weight of what he’d done pressed harder.He had come on command. He had said the words. And now something inside him had fractured.Luca sat on the edge of the bed, still naked from the waist down, watching him with those storm-grey eyes. One hand rested possessively on Alexei’s bandaged thigh, thumb brushing just above the graze. The touch was calm. Waiting.Alexei swallowed. His throat was raw. “Voss had… rivals,” he said, voice hoarse and cracked. The words tasted like ash. “Not the inner circle. Just… the ones who moved product through the sout
The fifth morning bled in gray and merciless.Alexei was on his knees again when the door opened at 6:09 a.m., chain pulled taut through the bedpost, wrists raw beneath the cuffs. The new cuts across his chest and stomach had crusted overnight but cracked open with every shallow breath. His thigh burned under the ruined bandage, the graze weeping fresh blood down his leg. The tattoo on his forearm “Stay” was a smeared ruin. His whole body felt like one continuous bruise, alive only in the places Luca had opened.Luca entered without a word. Same black slacks, same white shirt with sleeves rolled high. The bruise on his temple had settled into a deep violet. He carried the black toolkit and the longer hunting knife. His storm-grey eyes flicked over Alexei’s kneeling form, cataloging every mark like inventory.He set the knife on the nightstand with a soft click.“Up,” Luca said.Alexei rose on shaking legs. The chain rattled. He kept his green eyes fixed on Luca’s face, jaw tight, refu
The fourth morning was worse.Alexei woke up on his side again, cheek pressed to the cold marble floor, the chain still looped through the bedpost and attached to his left wrist. His left wrist throbbed where the cuff had bitten in overnight. The cuts on his chest and stomach had started to burn like they were on fire new lines crossed with old scars, each one pulling when he breathed. His thigh had gone completely numb under the soaked bandage. The graze from yesterday had reopened, the bullet wound now a raw, angry ring that pulsed with every heartbeat. His face was swollen, the nose crunched flat, the split lip scabbed over but the inside was still raw. The shallow cut on his neck from the first night had healed into a thin pink line, but it itched like fire when he swallowed. And the tattoo on his forearm “Stay” was bleeding again, the ink smudged and dark.He’d spent the last three days mostly on his side, chain clinking softly with every shallow breath, staring at the bloody str
The first forty-eight hours were a blur of rain and silence.Alexei didn’t eat. He didn’t drink. He didn’t speak. The chain was the only thing that moved soft clinks every time he shifted from his side to his back, every time he rolled onto his stomach to stare at the blood-streaked window. The cuts Luca had made on the glass were still there, faint red lines that the rain had washed clean but not erased. Alexei could see them in the reflection when he turned his head. Six parallel scars. Like a map he hadn’t asked for.His body was a warzone of old and new pain. The graze on his thigh had swollen, the bullet wound pulsing with every heartbeat. His ribs felt cracked again where Luca had bumped him into the glass. His face nose, lips, the cut on his temple from the first night hadn’t healed right. The cuts on his back from the glass were deeper than he liked. Every breath pulled at them. Every swallow tasted like copper.He counted the hours the only way he knew how.One. Two. Three.O
The bedroom door creaked open again at exactly 7:42 a.m. by the clock on the nightstand. Alexei’s head had been spinning since Luca left last night, the shallow cut on his neck now a thin red line that burned every time he swallowed. His wrist throbbed where the cuff had bitten in. His thigh felt like it was on fire. But the rage was sharper than the pain. It sat in his gut like bad whiskey and wouldn’t let him sleep.He was still naked, chain loose enough now to let him sit up, when the door opened. Luca stepped in carrying the same black duffel bag from last night, plus a small black toolkit he’d left on the floor outside. Rain streaked the windows behind him, turning the city into a smear of gray and neon. Luca’s face was calm, but there was a fresh bruise blooming along his left temple where Alexei had headbutted him. Good. Means he wasn’t completely healed.“Up,” Luca said. No hello. No good morning. Just the command, the same tone he used when he was loading a gun.Alexei didn’t







