Alina

"Starting tonight."

Ares's words echoed in my head as Patricia led me through the mansion's winding corridors. My hands still shook from the wine incident, and every step felt like walking toward an execution.

"Where are we going?" I whispered.

"The dining room," Patricia replied, her voice strained. "Mr. Sterling has requested a private dinner."

"But I already ate in the kitchen.."

"Not to serve, child. To dine."

The formal dining room looked different at night. Candles flickered on the mahogany table, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Crystal gleamed like trapped starlight, and the wine stain on the Persian rug had been scrubbed away as if it never existed.

Ares sat at the head of the table, no longer wearing the wine-stained shirt. Instead, he was dressed in a black button-down that made his gray eyes look like winter storms. He didn't look up when we entered.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair directly across from him.

I glanced at Patricia, but she was already backing toward the door.

"Patricia can go," Ares continued. "We won't be needing her services tonight."

The door clicked shut, leaving us alone. I remained standing, my servant's uniform feeling more conspicuous than ever against the room's elegance.

"I said sit."

His voice was quiet, but something in it made my legs move without permission. I sank into the chair, the plush velvet feeling foreign beneath me.

"Do you know why you're here?" he asked, finally looking up.

"Because I ruined your dinner party."

"No." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black box. "You're here because you need to understand your position in this house."

My throat went dry. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, he opened the box. Inside, nestled in black silk, was a thin silver chain. Not quite a necklace, not quite a choker. Something in between that made my stomach lurch.

"What is that?"

"Insurance," he said, lifting the chain from the box. The silver caught the candlelight, looking deceptively delicate. "To remind you of your place here."

"I won't wear that."

"You will." He stood, walking around the table with deliberate slowness. "Because the alternative is going back to whatever hell you ran from. And we both know you'd rather die than do that."

He was right, and we both knew it. But something inside me rebelled against the casual way he spoke about controlling my life.

"You can't just put that on me like I'm some kind of pet."

"Can't I?" He stopped behind my chair, the chain dangling from his fingers. "You live in my house. You eat my food. You exist because I allow it. This is simply a physical reminder of what's already true."

"I'm not your property."

"Aren't you?" His breath was warm against my ear. "Stand up."

"No."

The word surprised us both. I'd never directly refused him before.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no." My voice was shaking, but I forced myself to continue. "I may be trapped here, but I won't let you put that thing on me like I'm an animal."

For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of candles. Then Ares moved to face me, his expression unreadable.

"Interesting," he murmured. "Tell me, Alina, what exactly do you think you can do to stop me?"

"I can scream. I can fight. I can make your life as miserable as you're making mine."

"And then what? Even if you somehow escaped this room, this house, where would you go? Back to the foster system that failed you? Back to the streets?" His voice was soft, almost gentle, which made it more terrifying. "You have nothing. You are nothing. Except what I make you."

The words hit like physical blows, but they also sparked something inside me. Anger. Real, burning anger.

"You're wrong," I said, standing abruptly. The chair scraped against the floor, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Maybe I don't have money or power or a fancy house, but I'm not nothing. And I'm not yours to collar like a dog."

Something shifted in his expression. Not anger, but something else. Something that looked almost like satisfaction.

"There," he said quietly. "There's the fire I've been waiting to see."

"What?"

"You've been walking around this house like a ghost for two weeks. Apologizing for existing, flinching at shadows, letting everyone treat you like garbage." He stepped closer, and I fought the urge to back away. "But underneath all that fear and trauma, there's something else. Something that made you survive eighteen years of hell."

"I don't understand."

"Spirit, Alina. Fight. The will to keep going even when everything is stacked against you." His gray eyes studied my face intently. "That's what I needed to see. That's what makes you valuable."

"Valuable for what?"

Instead of answering, he held up the silver chain again. But this time, his voice was different. Softer, but somehow more dangerous.

"Put this on willingly, and I'll give you something no one else ever has."

"What?"

"Protection. Real protection. Not just from the staff or from Atlas, but from everything. The past that haunts you, the system that failed you, the world that threw you away." He paused, letting the words sink in. "But I need to know you're mine completely. No divided loyalties. No secret plans to run away. No pretending to be something you're not."

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. "And if I refuse?"

"Then you go back to being just another servant. Invisible, unprotected, expendable." His smile was cold as winter. "How long do you think you'd last without my interest in you?"

The question hung in the air like poison. I thought about Sarah, fired for touching me. About the way the other staff looked at me when they thought I wasn't watching. About Atlas and his devil's grin and wandering hands.

"This is insane," I whispered.

"This is survival," he corrected. "The strong protect what belongs to them. The weak get devoured."

I stared at the chain in his hands, my mind racing. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to fight, to do anything but accept this twisted bargain. But where would I go? What would I do?

"You're asking me to give up my freedom."

"I'm asking you to trade an illusion for reality. You were never free, Alina. Not in the foster homes, not on the streets, not even here. But you can be safe. You can be protected. You can be valued." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You can be mine."

The word sent shivers down my spine. Not entirely from fear.

"And what do you get out of it?"

"Loyalty. Obedience. The knowledge that the one person in this house who matters to me will never leave." His gray eyes burned into mine. "The knowledge that you chose me."

"That's not a choice. That's coercion."

"Everything is coercion, little maid. The only question is whether you're coerced by someone who wants to protect you or someone who wants to destroy you."

I closed my eyes, trying to think. But all I could see was Mrs. Henderson's sneer, the streets in the rain, the endless cycle of foster homes and broken promises.

When I opened them again, Ares was watching me with that same intense focus.

"If I do this," I said slowly, "what exactly are you expecting from me?"

"Complete honesty. Complete loyalty. Complete trust." He paused. "And complete surrender to my authority in this house."

"And in return?"

"Everything you've never had. Safety. Security. A place where you belong." His voice softened slightly. "A place where you matter."

The words were everything I'd ever wanted to hear. Which made them more terrifying than any threat.

"I need time to think."

"No." His voice was firm. "You decide now, or the offer disappears forever."

My heart hammered against my ribs. In the candlelight, the silver chain looked almost beautiful. Like jewelry instead of a leash.

"If I say yes," I whispered, "will you promise not to hurt me?"

Something flickered in his expression. "I will never hurt you, Alina. But I will never let you go, either."

I looked into his gray eyes and saw the truth there. He meant every word.

Slowly, terrified of what I was doing but more terrified of the alternative, I nodded.

"Say it," he commanded softly.

"I..." I swallowed hard. "I choose you."

His smile was triumphant and gentle all at once. "Then turn around."

I turned, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. The silver chain was cool against my throat, lighter than I'd expected. His fingers brushed my neck as he fastened the clasp, and I shivered.

"Perfect," he murmured against my ear. "Now beg me to keep you."

The words hit me like ice water. "What?"

"You heard me. Beg me to keep you. To protect you. To make you mine completely."

Every instinct rebelled. But then I thought about the alternative. About being alone and unprotected in a house full of wolves.

"Please," I whispered, the word torn from my throat. "Please keep me."

"Louder."

"Please keep me," I said, tears burning my eyes. "Please protect me. Please..."

"Please what?"

"Please make me yours."

His hands settled on my shoulders, warm and possessive.

"Good girl," he said softly. "Now you're learning."

That night, I lay in my narrow bed staring at the ceiling, the silver chain a constant reminder around my throat. I told myself I'd made the smart choice. The safe choice.

I almost believed it.

The soft click of my door opening made me freeze. Footsteps crossed the room, too light to be Ares.

"Hello, little dove," Atlas whispered in the darkness.

I sat up, clutching the thin blanket to my chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on my brother's newest acquisition." Even in the dark, I could hear his smile. "Tell me, how does it feel to wear his collar?"

My hand flew to my throat, fingers touching the silver chain.

"It's not a collar."

"Isn't it?" The mattress dipped as he sat on the edge of my bed. "You know, I watched tonight. Through the dining room windows. Saw you break. Saw you beg. Saw you surrender everything that made you human."

"Get out," I whispered.

"But here's what my dear brother doesn't understand," Atlas continued, ignoring my words. "You don't belong to him, Alina. You never will. Because I saw you first.”