A Taste of Possession

The luxury car rolled to a smooth halt in front of one of Virelia's most prestigious restaurants, its glossy black exterior reflecting the golden twilight. Around them, a convoy of identical black vehicles had stopped, forming an intimidating procession that instantly drew attention from everyone within sight. The restaurant's doormen straightened at the sight, their postures turning rigid with the kind of fear that only came when dealing with the Valtore name.

A man dressed crisply in white sleeves rushed to open the door, bowing his head low in practiced reverence. Caden stepped out first, his polished black shoes hitting the pavement with the same commanding precision as his every movement. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit, oozing dominance and elegance with every breath.

Then came Annalise.

Her steps were hesitant, and her expression sullen. Her dress clung delicately to her body, her posture stiff with a quiet fury. She was beautiful, and it was impossible not to notice. The doorman's breath hitched as his eyes met hers for a fleeting second—just long enough to betray his thoughts.

"Do you want your tongue ripped out?" Caden's voice was low, dangerous, but his words sliced with a cruel smile. The man paled, retreating with a bowed head, heart hammering.

Caden didn't need to raise his voice to instill terror. His presence was enough. His gaze lingered on the man for a beat too long before turning to his guards. "Clear the VIP wing. I want the entire section silent for the next two hours. Anyone who disobeys—remove them permanently."

"Yes, sir," the guard muttered and disappeared with military precision.

Annalise, meanwhile, was too distracted to focus on the power play unraveling around her. Her eyes roamed across the entrance—polished marble floors, cascading chandeliers, and velvet-draped walls. The restaurant wasn't just extravagant. It was a declaration of wealth, and it screamed Valtore.

Caden grabbed her wrist, pulling her along. His touch wasn't gentle—it was possessive, as if she were a belonging he was parading around.

They entered the grand lobby, the hush of the atmosphere broken only by the soft music echoing from a string quartet in the corner. As they approached the private elevator, Caden released her hand, and Annalise instantly leaned against the cold metallic wall, her legs weak beneath her.

The pressure in her stomach returned—a churning discomfort that reminded her she hadn't eaten. She bit her lip.

The elevator opened with a delicate chime, and Caden walked out, his long strides unfaltering. He didn't bother checking to see if she followed.

Annoying, Annalise thought bitterly, pushing herself off the wall and walking behind him.

They stepped into a private suite. Velvet seats, panoramic windows, and a table set for royalty. But the room wasn't empty.

Vivienne Barlow.

Dressed in an elegant red cocktail dress that clung to her like second skin, Vivienne was standing near the window, her expression unreadable. As soon as Caden entered, she turned around sharply and strode to him.

"Caden!" Her voice was a high-pitched melody wrapped in silk. Without waiting for permission, she threw her arms around him.

Annalise stopped at the doorframe, blinking.

Caden didn't push her away. He embraced her. Not stiffly, not out of politeness—but like it was natural.

And then he kissed her.

Annalise didn't know what to do. The air felt suddenly thin, her chest tightened. She should leave. She wanted to. But her feet remained glued to the floor.

She felt something she shouldn't have. A sharp sting in her chest—a betrayal she had no right to feel.

Why was he kissing her?

No. Why did she care that he was?

Her fists clenched at her sides.

Caden finally pulled away, his eyes trailing to Annalise as if he knew she had seen the whole thing. A smile played at his lips—amused, cruel, calculated.

"Meet my woman, Vivienne Barlow," he said with pride.

Vivian turned to Annalise, eyes scanning her from head to toe. Her painted lips curled into a tight smile. "She's beautiful," she said.

Annalise didn't return the compliment. She looked at Caden instead. "I'm hungry," she said flatly.

Vivian blinked and let out a tinkling laugh. "So?"

Caden chuckled. "Relax, Vivienne. Now that you're calm, she can eat."

He tousled Vivienne's hair like a proud lover and Annalise's blood boiled.

What the hell is this?

"Can you promise me something?" Vivian cooed, her arms still around him. "That we'll go to Paris for my birthday?"

"Didn't I already promise?" he replied without looking at her, eyes locked on Annalise now.

Vivian beamed, clearly content.

Annalise took a step forward, folding her arms. "So, am I here to watch you two flirt, or do you have a purpose for dragging me out like a dog?"

Caden cocked his head, his smile sharpening into something wicked. "That sharp tongue will get you into trouble, darling."

"It already has," she snapped.

Vivienne turned between them, clearly sensing the tension.

Caden walked forward, slowly, until he stood just in front of Annalise. He leaned down slightly, so close she could feel the heat of his breath.

"You're not here to eat, to argue, or to play. You're here because I said so."

His voice dropped to a whisper. "That contract you signed? It made you mine. I don't recall allowing tantrums."

Annalise stood her ground, jaw tight.

"You brought me here to meet her? Then let me eat before I pass out."

Caden clicked his tongue, disappointed. "You have such a knack for ruining a perfectly orchestrated evening."

Vivian looked stunned, unsure of her place anymore.