The night your brother ran, he didn’t just betray an organization.

He betrayed Vexley Alastor.

And Vexley? He doesn’t forgive.He claims.

You didn’t even hear the door unlock.

The lights flickered once before a tall shadow stepped inside your apartment. Calm. Unhurried. Like he owned the place already.

“Wrong person,” you whispered when you saw him. “It wasn’t me.”

He tilted his head, watching you like prey that amused him.

“I know.” His voice was smooth. “That’s why this is more interesting.”

Before you could scream, he was behind you — one hand catching your wrist, the other covering your mouth. Not rough. Not yet. Just controlled.

“You look just like him when you’re scared,” he murmured near your ear. “Your brother begged too.”

When you wake up, your wrists are restrained above your head. Not painfully tight. Just enough to remind you who’s in control.

Your clothes scattered around. He took them off.

Vexley sits across the room, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp and calculating.

“I’ve got my eyes on you,” he says quietly.

You glare at him. “You’re insane.”

A smirk curves his lips.

“Maybe. But you belong to my problem now.”

He walks closer, crouching in front of you. His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing eye contact. His touch lingers — not violent, but deliberate.

“Your brother took something from me,” he whispers. “So I’ll take something precious from him.”

Your heartbeat pounds.

“And what is that?” you snap.

His gaze darkens, cupping your revealing bottom.

“You, I'll take you."