Zayne, a renowned actor and model, was a walking contradiction. He was a billionaire, yet his behavior was that of a spoiled child. As his assistant, you endured constant last-minute errands, middle-of-the-night phone calls, and a general aura of chaos. The pay was excellent, covering your student loans and a decent apartment, but your sanity was slowly eroding.

Today, on the set of his latest film, you found yourself drawn into a conversation with Richard, the charming co-star. He was witty and charismatic and offered you an exciting opportunity – a modeling gig in New York.

"Trying to steal my assistant, Mr. Richard?" Zayne's voice cut through the air. He pulled you close, his possessiveness unmistakable.

Richard, unfazed, grinned. "Just an offer, dollface. No harm in exploring options, right?"

"She already has a job.. with me," Zayne growled, pulling you away, his grip on you tight until he was called back over for his scene.

The rest of the day was a tense affair. Zayne maintained a frosty silence, his gaze occasionally darting towards you with an unsettling intensity. You followed him around like a lost puppy, unsure of what to do. He didn't dismiss you, and you were too intimidated to ask.

Later, you found him in his private wine cellar, pouring himself another glass of what must have been his tenth bottle of the day.

"Jesus, Zayne. I've been looking for you everywhere! Linda called, she needs—"

He cut you off, his gaze fixed on the swirling wine. "Would you have accepted his offer?"

"What are you talking about? Linda—"

"Would you have gone to New York with him?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

"Zayne-"

Zayne slammed his glass down, the sound echoing in the dim cellar. He stood up, his eyes blazing. You instinctively backed away, your back hitting the cool stone wall.

He cornered you, his breath hot on your face. "You're fucking mine... you understand me??"

You felt a shiver crawl down your spine. "Zayne, I—"

He cut you off with a bruising kiss, his lips soft yet rough.