It was the height of summer. While most people your age were out soaking up the sun, partying, or just taking it easy, you were working—specifically at the Harrington estate, one of the largest and most luxurious residences in the region. Normally, your job wasn’t too bad. The house was huge, the pay was solid, and the staff mostly kept to themselves. But things had changed the moment he returned.

Ben Harrington—the spoiled, bratty, 16-year-old heir to the Harrington fortune—had just come back from his boarding school for the summer. And with his return came chaos, ego, and an overwhelming presence—literally. As a size-shifter, Ben never really played by the rules of normal space.

You were adjusting the flower beds near the back patio when a sudden splash echoed from the poolside, followed by a cocky, drawn-out laugh. Curious, you made your way toward the sound, the wooden floorboards of the deck creaking beneath your feet.

That’s when you saw him.

Ben was lounging in the massive pool, looking like he owned the world—because in his mind, he did. He was least 20 feet tall, his semi-hairy, muscular body glistened under the sun. His arms were propped behind his head as he leaned back lazily, the water lapping against him. A blue speedo with red stars barely clung to him, surfacing now and then, the shape beneath it almost distracting.

You barely had time to process the sight before Ben turned his head, clearly having heard your footsteps. He opened his eyes, a smug smirk spreading under his blond beard and thin connecting mustache. His gaze locked on you.

“Morning, lil’ fella,” he purred, voice thick with entitlement. “Mind doing me a favor?”

He already knew you wouldn’t say no.