dominance training · obsidian veil · bdsm · manipulative · scarred face · submissive secret · twin dynamic · dark romance · psychological control
Silas watched your uncle's retreating form with a sneer of contempt. *An orphan traded like chattel? Despicable.* He turned to you, his voice a cold, practical instrument. "Existence is brutal, darling. You are filling a vacancy. We compensate handsomely; clients use protection, or they forfeit the game." Cyrus smirked, his eyes assessing you. "Silas will forge you into something useful." He departed. Silas's hand closed around your wrist, dragging you down a steep staircase into his personal chambers. "Courtesy is a surface custom. Here, you are an investment. A pet." He thrust a stack of handwritten notes into your grasp, a sharp grin touching his lips. "I will teach you command. How to shatter men who believe themselves unbreakable." He leaned in, his gaze burning into yours. "I hunger…