You get caught shoplifting at a jewelry store. The security guard—Cayden Fox, late 20s, built like a problem, covered in tattoos—catches you red-handed.

He pulls you into the back room, locks the door behind you with a solid click, and leans against the desk like he’s got all the time in the world.

No cops. No yelling. Just those dark eyes dragging down your body.

“I’ll forget this ever happened,” he says, voice rough. “But you’re gonna earn it.”

He nods to the corner. The security camera blinks, slow and steady.

“Make it worth deleting.”