All Chapters of I AM YOURS TO PLAY: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Chapter 2: Love Or BetrayalETHAN’S POVI slipped the burner phone back into my pocket, my fingers trembling as I hit send, the FBI handler’s message still burning in my mind: “Shipment details, now. Don’t fail.” I stood in the shadows of the alley near Pier 12, the echo of gunfire from the Salazar ambush fading into the night. I’d done it—sent the intel, details of the arms shipment, Lucian’s routes, his contacts. My chest tightened, guilt clawing at me, but I had to. Lucian turned, his silhouette sharp against the pier’s flickering lights, his voice cutting through the chaos as he barked orders to his men. His tone was steel, but his shoulders sagged, a weariness I’d never seen before. He’d lost three loyal men in the ambush, and the weight of it hung heavy on him. I watched him dispatch his crew—half to guard the west side stash, the other half to set up snipers and patrols around his key spots. He wasn’t taking chances, not after Salazar’s surprise attack. An hour later, one of

Chapter 4: Shadows On The HorizonETHAN’S POVI pushed through the glass doors of the Chicago FBI Field Office, the morning air still clinging to my jacket as I stepped into the bustling lobby. My polished shoes clicked against the tiled floor, and I adjusted my tie, trying to shake off the restless night I’d had. For the past year, I’d thrown myself into work, into proving myself as a special agent, a title I earned after Lucian Moretti’s arrest. The promotion had changed things—colleagues who once whispered slurs now nodded in respect, their assumptions about my engagement to Sarah smoothing over the rumours of my sexuality. But the weight of that lie, the weight of Sarah, pressed harder every day. My foster parents wouldn’t let up, hounding me about wedding plans, pushing me toward a woman I couldn’t stand. She wasn’t my type, not even close, even if I weren’t gay. Her sharp words, her cold touch, her consistent texts and calls—they repelled me, and the more I tried to make it w

Chapter 6: First Escape, First FailureETHAN’S POVI slumped in the underground chamber, my body still trembling from Lucian’s ultimatum. His words replayed in my mind, each one a jagged shard of dread. Three months to fall in love with him—or die. The idea struck me as insane, a cruel game from a man who thrived on control, not affection. I betrayed him, fucked him in the heat of a stolen night at The Black Fang, and then handed him over to the FBI, shattering whatever trust he placed in me. Lucian Moretti didn’t love. He didn’t feel. He cared in his own way, but his care always had limits, a line he never crossed. Yet now he demanded my heart, giving me a second chance I never expected from a man who carved out the hearts of traitors without a second thought. Fear coiled in my gut, tight and suffocating, as I grappled with the impossibility of it all. I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t sit in this basement for three months, waiting to see if Lucian’s patience would snap, if he’d dec

Chapter 8: Seduction In The Shadows LUCIAN’S POVI strode into the underground chamber, my polished shoes striking the concrete floor with purpose, the sound echoing off the damp walls. Ethan stood before me, his wrists chained to the ceiling, his legs bound to bolts on the floor, his body stretched taut in a position that screamed vulnerability. His hazel eyes locked onto mine, wide with fear, his light brown hair matted with sweat, his chest rising and falling with shadow breaths. I paused a few feet away, my gray eyes raking over him, taking in every detail—the blood crusted on his lip, the bruises darkening his cheek, the defiance flickering beneath his terror. I wanted to kill him so badly, to end him for the betrayal that landed me in prison for a year, but I couldn’t. Not when I knew he was the boy who saved me years ago, the one whose kindness I’d clung to through years of darkness. Not when I loved him, an obsession that consumed me over the two years he spent by my side, p

Chapter 10: A Taunting Display ETHAN’S POVI lay on the bed in the new chamber, my wrists shackled to the bedposts with heavy chains, my legs spread and bound to the footboard, my body stretched taut in a position that screamed vulnerability. My trousers still sagged around my thighs from Lucian’s earlier assault, my shirt torn, my face throbbing from the punches he’d delivered in the garage. My swollen eyes blurred my vision, blood crusted on my lips, my ribs aching with every shallow breath. I felt exposed, helpless, my fear a living thing clawing at my chest. The room—a space I knew Lucian used for his orgies—reeked of sex, the black sheets beneath me a stark contrast to the mirrors lining the walls, reflecting my battered form from every angle. The door creaked open, and Lucian stormed in, his gray eyes blazing with fury, his jet-black hair disheveled, his white sleeve shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned showcasing his smooth chest, his knuckles still bloody from punching the wall ear