The second the black SUV disappeared through the iron gates, Leila made her move.
Dominic was gone.
A three-day trip to Milan for a closed-door merger meeting. He'd left that morning with his usual cryptic command to "be good."
She smiled sweetly. Nodded. Even kissed his cheek.
And the moment his plane lifted off, she slipped out of the role of docile captive and back into what she truly was.
A ghost.
Leila moved fast. Quiet.
She knew which hallways the security cameras skipped. Which staff she could fake a smile for without raising suspicion. Where he kept his access cards,always two, in a drawer she'd already unlocked once.
She'd studied the codes. Memorized the times.
And this time, she wasn't just opening a backdoor in his system.
She was walking through one.
By dusk, she was gone.
⸻
Two days of silence.
Two days of wind in her hair, adrenaline in her veins, and the rush of being back in control.
She changed cities twice. Switched IDs. Burned through one of her last untraceable accounts for cash. She ditched the tracker bracelet in a canal and watched it sink like an anchor.
For the first time in weeks, she breathed.
She wasn't Leila the prisoner.
She was Leila the legend again.
But on the third night,just when she started to feel safe,
the door of the grimy motel room burst open.
And Dominic stepped inside like death itself.
He didn't speak.
He didn't have to.
She barely had time to stand before he had her pinned against the wall, one hand at her throat,not choking, just claiming.
"I gave you two days," he said quietly. "Longer than you deserved."
"Let me go," she hissed, struggling.
His grip tightened. "You ran."
"I'm not yours."
"Liar."
Leila spat in his face.
He smiled.
And that smile terrified her more than anything else.
⸻
Back at the mansion
The car ride was silent. Tense. Her wrists were bound in front of her,not cruelly, but deliberately. A reminder. A message.
The staff didn't speak as he led her back through the halls. Didn't even look at her.
Dominic said nothing as he opened the door to her room and pushed her inside.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Then locked.
She spun around, eyes wide. "You can't just lock me up,"
His hand slammed the door beside her head.
"I told you what would happen if you disobeyed."
"I'd do it again," she snapped.
He leaned in, voice like ice over fire. "And I'll punish you again. Harder. Longer. Until you understand."
Leila's breath caught. Her heart thundered. Every inch of her screamed to fight,
But her body trembled with a different kind of fear. One she didn't want to name.
"You think you can break me?" she whispered.
Dominic's eyes burned gold.
"No," he said. "I think you want to be broken. You just don't know it yet."
And then he left her there,in the silence, the shame, the storm.
The door locked behind him.
And Leila sank to the floor, breath shaking.
She had tasted freedom.
And now, she would pay.
~~~~~~~
Dominic stood in his private training room, the walls paneled in dark oak, lit by low, golden sconces. No cameras here. No audience. Only silence and his own breath echoing in the space.
He removed his jacket slowly. Folded it. Set it on the bench.
His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, exposing veins that pulsed too visibly, skin taut over the tension coiled inside him like a razor-thin wire.
She ran.
He'd expected resistance. Expected manipulation. Maybe even a blow-up.
But escape?
That was unforgivable.
And yet…
He could still taste her on his lips from that night in the library. Still remember the way she arched into him like she was made to fit there.
You wanted her wild, his wolf whispered. You got wild. Now teach her who she belongs to.
He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply.
This wasn't about rage.
It was about correction.
He'd warned her. He'd told her there were rules. He'd given her every chance to choose the easier path.
But Leila didn't want easy.
She wanted control.
And tonight, he would take it back.
Piece by trembling piece.
Dominic moved to the far wall where his tools hung in pristine symmetry. Nothing crude. Nothing that would draw blood.
Just enough to humble.
To remind.
His hand hovered over a length of leather,smooth, supple, meant for precision.
Not pain.
Not too much, the rational part of him murmured.
Just enough to burn it into her memory. Just enough to make her remember who she belongs to.
He gritted his teeth.
Because the worst part of all wasn't her disobedience.
It was how much he still wanted her.
Even now.
Even after.
He couldn't stop imagining her in his bed. Not angry. Not sobbing.
But pliant.
Obedient.
Begging.
'Soon', the wolf purred.
Dominic turned toward the door, his expression hard as stone.
Time to collect her.
Time for Leila to learn what happens…
when you run from the man who already owns you.
The room was dimly lit when Dominic entered. He didn't speak at first. He only looked at her,legs curled up in the corner of the bed, arms wrapped around her knees, chin tucked down like she could disappear.
She heard the door click shut.
Her head snapped up.
"I'm not sorry," Leila said, voice sharp despite the shake in it.
"I didn't ask if you were," Dominic replied calmly. "You disobeyed. You ran."
He stepped closer, slowly unbuttoning his cuffs, rolling the sleeves up his forearms. Controlled. Measured. His voice, however, was coiled tight.
"You made a choice. Now I'll make mine."
Her chin lifted in defiance. "What? You're going to beat me into obedience?"
"No," he murmured. "I'm going to remind you who you belong to."
He reached her slowly. Sat on the edge of the bed. His presence consumed the air between them.
"Stand up," he said gently. "Come here."
She didn't move. Her heart thundered in her chest.
He tilted his head. "Now."
She stood.
He reached for her wrist and guided her between his knees.
"You want control," he said, voice velvet and steel. "But you gave that up the moment you ran."
Then he lifted her robe.
She gasped. "Dominic..."
"Shh."
He turned her slowly, gently, guiding her to straddle one of his thighs. Her robe slipped farther, pooling around her waist. The cool air kissed her bare skin.
Her body went still.
"Put your hands on my shoulders."
Leila hesitated.
"I won't hurt you, Leila. But you will feel me."
The moment she placed her trembling hands on his shoulders, he began.
Slow, measured slaps to the curve of her backside. Not savage,intimate. Each one drew a gasp from her lips, heat blooming across her skin like fire licking at shame.
And arousal.
She bit her lip to hold it in.
"Did you think I wouldn't find you?" he whispered. "That you could vanish from me?"
Another strike. A soft cry from her throat.
"Did you think I'd let you go?"
Her breath hitched. Her hands clutched his shirt.
Each strike after that was softer, more deliberate, sinking her into something she didn't have a name for.
By the time he stopped, she was flushed, trembling, pressing her forehead to his shoulder,not out of submission.
But because her body betrayed her.
Her thighs trembled against his.
Dominic leaned in, brushing his mouth against her ear.
"You don't get to run," he whispered. "Because you're mine, Leila. You've been mine since the moment I saw you."
She whimpered. She hated it. Hated how much she didn't want to pull away.
He pulled the robe gently over her body again, wrapping her back in silk, covering the evidence of what just happened.
"Come," he said. "You'll sleep in my bed tonight. Not because I've forgiven you… but because I'm not done with you."
And she followed.
Because she couldn't say no.
Not anymore.