"Miss Sinclair," he says, his Swedish accent a faint shadow. "It's an honor."
Eve's fingers tighten around mine. "An honor to meet the man who's going to follow me everywhere?"
The corner of Bjorn's mouth twitches. Almost a smile.
"To protect you everywhere," I correct gently. "Bjorn, from this moment, Eve's safety is your primary concern. Above mine. Above the business. Above everything."
His expression doesn't change, but I see the shift in his posture. The acceptance of a new mission. "Understood, sir."
"If anything happens to her," I continue, my voice dropping to that cold register that makes grown men flinch, "you answer to me personally."
"Nothing will happen to her," Bjorn says quietly. "You have my word."
I nod, satisfied. Then I turn to Eve, cupping her face in my hands. "He's yours now. He'll die before he lets anyone hurt you."
She swallows hard, her eyes wide. "Nathan—"
"This is how I protect you," I murmur. "Not just with money or threats. With people who are absolutely loyal, who understand that you are the most valuable thing in my world."
The gym staff move around us, a discrete distance away, and I watch Eve take in the reality of what I'm offering her. Not just my obsession. But the full weight of my protection, backed by men like Bjorn, who live and breathe loyalty.
We leave Bjorn with instructions to prepare a full security detail, and I drive us back to the penthouse in silence. Eve's quiet, processing, and I let her have that space.
But when we get inside, I don't give her long to think.
"There's one more thing you need to see," I say, taking her hand and leading her down the hall past the bedroom, past the guest rooms, to a door she's probably never noticed.
It's black. Seamless. No handle visible from the outside.
I press my palm to the biometric lock, and it clicks open.
The room beyond is dark until I flip the switch, and then soft, ambient lighting illuminates a space that makes Eve's breath catch.
The Dungeon.
I've furnished it carefully over the years, waiting for her. Black walls. Dark hardwood floors. A custom bed frame with attachment points. Leather restraints hanging from hooks. A cabinet of implements that range from gentle to cruel.
It's a room designed for one purpose: the complete surrender of the woman I desire.
Eve steps inside slowly, her eyes wide, taking in every detail. I watch her throat work as she swallows. Watch her pupils dilate with fear and something darker.
"What is this?" Her voice is barely a whisper.
"This is where I bring you when I need you to surrender completely," I say quietly, following her inside. "When I need to remind us both that you're mine in every way that matters." I circle her slowly, predatory. "But no one else has been here. I built it for you. Only you."
She turns to face me, and I see the war in her eyes. Terror and curiosity. Resistance and desire.
"I've never—" She stops, shakes her head. "I don't know how to do this."
"You don't have to know." I move closer, but I don't touch her. Not yet. "That's what I'm here for. To teach you. To guide you. To push you exactly as far as you can go and no further."
"And if I say no?"
The question hangs between us.
"Then we don't use this room," I say simply. "I won't force you, Eve. I never have. Everything we've done, you've chosen. Even if that choice came from limited options."
She laughs, sharp and bitter. "Limited options. That's one way to put it."
