Liam froze. The sound was calm, but laced with unmistakable authority. His eyes darted to the figure emerging from the shadows. A man in a perfectly tailored suit while on a rigid posture with a sharp gaze.
Liam's jaw tightened as recognition flickered in his eyes.
"You… you work for my uncle," he muttered, voice tight.
The man didn't answer. He simply stepped closer, one hand lifting slightly in a gesture that suggested caution without aggression. His eyes were fixed on Layla, ensuring she could move safely.
"Mr. Elias sent for you," the man said quietly, looking at Layla. "Come with me."
Layla hesitated, panic rising in her chest. "I… I don't—"
"Now, Ma'am," the man cut in. The calmness of the command left no room for argument.
Liam scowled, frustration coiling tight in his chest. He shoved Layla lightly, his hands trembling with anger.
"You can't just—"
"Step back," the man said again, sharper this time. "Leave her."
Liam's teeth clenched. He took a half-step forward, then faltered. The sight of the man, the authority in his posture, the quiet but undeniable threat in his gaze—it reminded him that he wasn't untouchable.
Layla's heart pounded in her ears as she followed the man to a sleek black car parked just beyond the sidewalk. She glanced back at Liam—frustration, anger, and helplessness warring across his features. He didn't move as they drove off as the engine swallowed the space between them and left only the hum of tires on asphalt.
The car ride was quiet except for the steady rhythm of the engine. The man didn't speak, his presence imposing but controlled, a reminder that she was now in someone else's hands entirely.
Her thoughts were a storm.
Why now?
Why Elias?
What does he want with me?
The evening darkness outside thickened, the city lights blurring into streaks of yellow and white. Fear mixed with a strange, undeniable pull. Elias's name whispered in her mind, a shadow curling around her heart. She hated that she wanted him, that part of her ached for the danger, for the control he radiated even from afar.
The man finally spoke, breaking the tense silence. "We're close,stay calm.and do exactly as I say."
Layla nodded, gripping her bag strap tightly.
They pulled into a gated property, black iron bars gleaming in the dim light. Shadows stretched long and menacing across the driveway.
The man stepped out first, opening the car door for her. "Stay close," he instructed, scanning the surroundings with a meticulous eye. "He doesn't wait for anyone to catch up."
She stepped onto the polished pathway, heart hammering violently. The faint echo of Liam's frustrated voice from the street still burned in her ears. She didn't look back.
The gates began to close slowly behind her, and the engine's hum faded into the distance, leaving only shadows, her racing pulse, and the unknown.
The final figure loomed ahead—a tall silhouette, framed by faint light from the windows of the estate.
Layla froze. Elias.
Her chest tightened, anticipation and fear tangling in ways she couldn't untangle. This was no longer just about gossip, social fallout, or high school drama. This was about control, possession, and obsession. Something dark had begun, and she had already stepped into its orbit.
The gates closed behind Layla with a sound that made her flinch.
She stood still on the gravel drive, heart pounding hard enough to make her lightheaded, staring at the iron bars now separating her from the street, from school, from everything familiar. The car that had brought her here rolled away without hesitation, leaving silence in its wake.
This was a mistake.She should have run,she should have screamed,she should have refused to get in that car no matter how calm the man in the suit had sounded but she hadn't because Liam had been standing there,because his hand had been on her arm and because something in her had known—deep, instinctive, ugly—that if she didn't leave then, things would have gotten worse.
The doors closed behind Layla with a quiet, decisive click.The sound was soft but it felt irreversible.
For a moment she simply stood there, just inside the threshold, afraid to move—as though stepping farther in might trigger something unseen.
The foyer stretched upward into a cathedral ceiling of dark wood beams and recessed lighting. The floors beneath her feet were polished black marble veined with silver, reflecting light in sharp, clean lines.
A massive chandelier hung overhead—not crystal, but brushed metal and glass arranged in geometric tiers,beautiful in a way that felt expensive rather than decorative.
The air smelled faintly of cedar and something darker—like leather and smoke, though there was no fire burning.
Her shoes echoed when she shifted her weight.The sound traveled too far which made the space feel larger than it was meant to be.
There were no family photos,no personal clutter,no misplaced shoes or discarded jackets and no signs of casual living. The space didn't feel empty—but it felt curated,like nothing was allowed to exist here without purpose.
Her eyes moved slowly, absorbing everything.A long console table rested against the wall opposite her. On it sat a single sculpture—a twisted piece of dark metal that looked abstract, sharp at the edges, almost violent in its design. Beside it lay a slim black tray holding a watch, cufflinks, and a key fob.
"You're studying it," Elias's voice came from behind her.
Layla didn't jump but felt the slow crawl of awareness down her spine as she turned.
He had removed his jacket. The dark suit vest beneath it fit him too perfectly, crisp white shirt sleeves rolled just enough to reveal his wrists,no looseness or casual disarray, he looked composed like the house.
"It doesn't feel like a house," she said before she could stop herself.
"What does it feel like?" He said as his gaze sharpened slightly.
Layla hesitated.
"Like… someone built it to watch the world from the inside."
There was a quiet pause.Then something almost like approval flickered in his eyes.
"Come," he said.
Layla's chest tightened as he came up to him.
"So," she said, forcing the word out, "this is how you do things?"
"Yeah,I think so" he said as his eyes found hers immediately,calm in a way that made her pulse jump.
"You sent someone to drag me here," she shot back. "You didn't even ask."
"I didn't need to."
"I'm not something you can just move around." Layla said angrily.
"You were being cornered," he said. "You were being handled."
"I can handle myself."
His gaze flicked to her arm—where Liam's fingers had dug in hard enough to bruise.
"No," Elias said quietly. "You couldn't."
The certainty in his voice made her stomach twist,not because he was wrong but because he was right.
"I didn't ask for your protection," she said, hating how small her voice sounded.
"No," he agreed. "You didn't."
He stopped a few feet away from her. Close enough that she could feel him—his presence like gravity, pulling whether she resisted or not.
"Liam threatened you," Elias continued. "After the club and after today."
Her breath caught. "How do you know that?"
"I pay attention."
That should have terrified her more than it did.
"He said I cheated," she said, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "Like he didn't kiss someone else right in front of me. Like he didn't humiliate me first."
Elias watched her closely, like he was cataloging every crack in her composure.
"He doesn't believe you belong to yourself," he said. "Boys like him never do."
Her hands clenched at her sides. "And you do?"
Silence stretched between them,long enough that her heartbeat filled the space.
"I believe," Elias said finally, "that you're safer when I decide who gets near you."
Fear slid down Layla's spine, cold and sharp.
"You're dangerous," she said.
"Yes."
"You don't even deny it," she whispered.
"I won't lie to you," he replied. "Not about this, everyone knows."
Layla's gaze dropped, then lifted again. She hated that her body felt alert instead of repelled and hated the way her fear tangled with something darker—curiosity, maybe,or the sick comfort of knowing someone this powerful had noticed her.
"I should leave," she said, even as she didn't move.
"You can," Elias said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the gates. "I won't stop you."
"That's not true," she said.
His eyebrow lifted slightly. "Why not?"
"Because you wouldn't have brought me here if you were willing to let me walk away."
"You'll stay tonight," Elias said.
Her head snapped up. "No."
"Lay….," he said calmly, "Liam won't stop."
"I can go home."
"You can," he agreed. "And he'll follow."
"What do you want from me?" she asked.
"Really."
He looked at her then—not like a man appraising a threat, but like someone considering a decision already made.
"Honesty," he said. "Obedience when it matters and distance from him."
"And if I don't?" she asked.
"You will be punished."
"Punished?How?"
Elias stepped close enough to her that her pulse betrayed her.
"Howww?.Remember what I told you that night," he asked coldly as he looked up to her.
Layla trembled as he dropped the cold tone.
"I…I don't remember." She said as stepped back with fear.
"You look like you're planning an escape,"Elias said calmly.
"I'm…. I'm not."
His gaze darkened slightly, but he didn't argue.
"Do you remember," he asked again, voice low and controlled, "what I told you the other night?"
Layla's heart slammed against her ribs.She knew exactly what he meant,the club,the private room,his voice near her ear and the way he had spoken like he was carving words into her skin.
"No," she said too quickly as her mouth went dry.
Elias took another step forward and she instinctively took one back.
"Think carefully," he said. "I don't repeat myself often."
"I don't remember," she whispered, even as heat and fear curled together inside her chest.
He continued taking a step towards Layla and Layla took steps back from him.
"You do," he said softly. "You remember exactly what I said."
Her back brushed the wall.She hadn't realized how far she'd retreated until there was nowhere left to go.
Elias stopped a foot away,close enough that she could feel his body heat.
Her palms pressed flat against the wall behind her.
"Say it," he instructed.
She shook her head.Fear fluttered in her throat—not of violence but of the truth.
"What a stubborn little being." He said calmly. " Guess I'll have to remind you, little one."
"I told you," Elias continued, voice quiet and deliberate, "that afte
r that night, things would change."
His eyes locked onto hers.
"I told you that once you walked into that room with me, you wouldn't pretend nothing happened."
Layla's breath trembled.
"I told you," he went on, stepping closer until there was barely space between them, "that after that night… you were mine."