The knock on my door came too early. Too sharp, startling me as I combed out my bed hair. I reached out, opening the door.

“Boss requests your presence." The guard’s voice was clipped, with no eye contact, giving no room for protest.

Sighing, I adjusted the strap of my black slip dress, ran a hand through my thick brown hair, then followed him. The walk to his study stretched long and endlessly. Feeling bored, I busy my eyes with the portraits of long-dead men with colder eyes, lined on the corridor walls. Even the guards stationed by the doors avoided my gaze. Is it a sign of respect?

We stopped before a pair of double oak doors. The guard who led me knocked once, then opened them for me.

As soon as I entered, the atmosphere filled me with an overwhelming smell of wood polish, leather, and whiskey. A very large desk sat in the center, papers neatly arranged in stacks. Zavier sat behind it nonchalantly, as if he wasn't the one who called me here, which irritated me more than it should.

“You summoned me," I said, breaking the silence.

Finally, his grey eyes lifted. Hard, piercing through me, “You walk into my house like you own it, get you think you can't be summoned?”

I crossed the room slowly, his eyes never leaving my form, my every step deliberate, and stopped in front of his desk. “Summoning is for dogs. I came because I was curious."

The faintest curve touched his lips, dangerous, as if mocking me. " Curious things often end up dead in my world."

I smirked, folding my arms, my eyes scanned his office before it landed back on him.

“Then you should thank me for keeping it interesting so far."

For a moment, silence baked between us, the air thick with unspoken challenges. His gaze didn’t waver. Neither did mine. It was like we're both waiting on each other's breath. Daring one another to say something…

At last, he pushed back his chair as he stood, the sound scraping against the marbled floor. He moved towards me, slow, no rush, like a predator. Circling the desk, he came closer, his presence filling the room, banishing the air out of my lungs.

“You're bold,” he voiced. His voice softer but sharp, vibrating through my body. “Most women tremble in my presence.”

I tilted my chin higher, my jaw set, staring at his strikingly rugged features. “Then maybe you need to meet better women."

His laugh is low, guttural, the sound disappearing within the walls. “Or maybe I need to break this one.”

The cold certainty in his words sliced through my ribs, I didn't flinch. I wouldn't give him that.

He leaned an arm on the desk behind me, effectively caging me in. His cologne, a mix of smoke, leather, and something darker, swirled around me like a spell.

“You’re in my house now, Alessia Petrov. My rules. My world.” He declared, his accent more prominent than before.

“Rules are made to be broken,” I murmured, the corner of my lips twitching, a huge contrast to my racing heart.

His lips thinned, “Break mine, and you won't live long enough to regret it."

I held his stare, neither of us blinked. His grey storms against my blue flames.

Finally, he pulled back, loosening the invisible grip he had on my throat.

“You'll begin training today"

I arched my brow “ Training?"

“With Luca,” he said simply, as if his words were law, it's huge letters carved on the walls.

“Every day. You learn combat, discipline, and weapons. You’ll learn how to defend yourself, princess.” Mockery oozing out of the nickname he just gave me.

I laughed once, dry. “So, I’m your pet project now? You must be very bored, Don”

This time, he didn’t laugh, eyes narrowing. “No, Alessia. You’re my gamble. And I always win.”

Without another word, he strode to the door. The heavy oak slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone with the echo of his dominance.

Before I could breathe and recover from whatever that was, another knock came. This one is smoother, almost lazy.

“Time to play, tigress,” a familiar voice drawled.

When the door opened, Luca leaned casually against the door frame, arms crossed, with that unsettling grin. His dark eyes flicked over me, amused.

“I hear I’m your new babysitter.” What a charmer. I rolled my eyes.

“Not a chance.” I denied, a frown settled on my face.

He chuckled, pushing himself off the frame. “Oh, it’s true. The Don gave the order himself. I will train you. I break you in. Every day.”

My knife-calloused fingers itched, but I folded my arms instead, not giving into that temptation, sadly. “You’ll try.”

His grin widened. “Careful. I like it when they fight,” he warned, playful, but I didn't miss the glint of something darker in his eyes.

The guard beside him shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to be here.

I stepped closer, close enough to see the faint scar tracing Luca’s jaw. “If you ever sneak into my room again,” I whispered, “I'll be sure to introduce you to my pet knife, she loves men like you.” I drawled as my fingers traced his jaw, slowly.

His eyes darkened, and for once, his smirk faded, just for a breath. Then it returned again, this time sharper than before.

“Ready to bleed, tigress?”

His words lingered between us like a promise, like a threat.

And as the guard led me down the hall toward the training room, one truth crawls up my spine.

This house wasn’t just a cage. It was an arena.

And every predator in it was waiting for me to slip.