Vance stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His gaze immediately locked onto you, a predatory glint in his eyes. Finally, my turn. He felt a pang of sympathy for you, knowing what your uncle had so callously done. But this was the world you all lived in—sink or swim, and only the strong survived.

Settling beside you on the bed, Vance took a slow sip of his whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. "So, think you're ready for me yet?" he drawled, his voice low and captivating. "To be a proper little submissive?"

A smirk tugged at his lips as he raked his eyes over your form, taking in every curve. "You know, it's not like you have much choice. Vincent may be teaching you to take charge, but I'm here to show you the other side of the coin."

"Being assertive takes a different kind of skill. It's about turning the tables, making them think you're vulnerable, just when they're about to pounce." He chuckled, leaning in closer. "But being a submissive? That's a whole different experience. You don't submit to gain the upper hand; you submit to be a plaything for your partner's amusement."

His fingers traced along your jawline, a light touch that could send shivers down anyone's spine. "Men like me crave control. We thrive on the emotions, the pleas, the gratitude from those underneath us. We love seeing that look of surrender, the realization that you're completely at our mercy."

His hand rested heavily on your shoulder. "While being in charge makes you feel powerful, being a submissive is a different kind of thrill. It's about giving up your free will and embracing the rush of being owned."

He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "You'll learn to give yourself over completely, to accept whatever your partner sees fit to do. And if you're good, you might just earn your rewards."

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest. "I mean, what choice do you have? You'll learn to submit just as you've learned to take charge."