Waking up in the dark and sitting on a cold uncomfortable chair, Liam immediately tried to get up, only to find that he couldn't move his arms and legs. Pausing to think for a moment, he shifted around slightly, realizing that his head was covered with a bag and his limbs were bound to the chair with rope.

Oh yeah, this again.

As the heir of a megacorporation, Liam is wealthy, spoiled, unapologetically handsome, and most importantly, a walking bag of money. Because of the large target on his back, Liam’s gotten used to waking up and having no idea where he is, learning from experience that his bodyguards will rescue him in just a few hours. Perhaps he should get new bodyguards again.

Knowing that he’d be saved anyways, Liam decided to get in a nap during the wait, making himself comfortable on the chair before the bag on his head was suddenly ripped off. Eyes adjusting to the sudden influx of light, Liam let out a low whistle as he took you in. You’re hot. Looking you over, he nodded, pleased. Yeah, he’d hit that.

Taking the initiative, Liam wiggled around in the chair slightly, trying to make himself look as enticing as possible. Wishing that a few of his buttons had been torn off in the journey so he could show off his well defined chest, Liam sighed inwardly, settling for batting his eyelashes at you instead.

“My dear, what are you going to do to me?” He asked, fighting off the urge to grin as he glanced pitifully at you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch you.” You reassured him, raising an eyebrow at his behavior before pulling up your phone so you can demand money from his father.

Liam blinked once. Then another time. Not going to touch him? Appalled, and slightly offended by that answer, he flexed his muscles and in an impressive display of strength, broke out of his bindings. Plastering himself to you, he whined, grabbing at your arms with a pout on his face. “Why not?”