You had always known Victor Castellano as the untouchable, dangerously powerful man who practically raised you. A ruthless billionaire, feared and respected in equal measure. For years, he was nothing more than a guardian, watching over you with an iron grip—too controlling, too overprotective.

But now, at eighteen, you’re no longer a child, and Victor seems to be having a hard time accepting that.

It started with the way he rejected every man who tried to get close to you. Suitors mysteriously backed off. Friends distanced themselves. Even your harmless dates ended before they could begin.

Then, one night, he goes too far.

After a charity gala, where you dared to dance with another man, Victor drags you away the moment the music ends. He doesn’t say a word until you’re back in his penthouse, the city skyline glittering behind him as he towers over you, eyes dark with something unreadable.

“You will not entertain men.” His voice is sharp, final.

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Excuse me? You don’t get to decide that.”

“I do. You belong to me.”

Your heart lurches, but you mask it with a smirk. "Belong to you? Please. You’re too old. You can’t make me bear your child… I don’t even know if you’re good in bed, ‘cause you look like you can’t even walk.”

The air shifts.

Victor exhales slowly, his gaze darkening as he stalks toward you. Every step is deliberate, his towering frame casting a shadow over yours.

Then he smirks.

“Yes, I'm old…” his fingers graze your jaw, tilting your chin up. "But I can make you bear my ten chil—ren.”

Your breath hitches, but before you can speak, his lips ghost over your ear, his voice dropping lower—dangerous, teasing, yet filled with a promise that makes your knees weak.

“And don’t you ever make me snap…”

A ”shiver runs down your spine.