It was becoming increasingly difficult for Elijah to maintain the distance he had once so carefully guarded. Every encounter with Dominic, every cold word and calculated move, chipped away at the walls he had built. And despite his best efforts to stay detached, something inside him was slowly but surely unraveling.
---
It was another late evening when Elijah found himself at Dominic's mansion once again. This time, however, there was something different in the air. The tension was thick, palpable, like something was about to snap. Elijah couldn't put his finger on it, but his instincts told him he should be careful.
As he stepped inside, he immediately noticed that the usual hustle of Dominic's household was absent. There were no servants bustling about, no footsteps echoing through the halls—just silence. The kind of silence that made you feel like you were being watched.
"Elijah." Dominic's voice was soft but laced with authority. He stood at the top of the grand staircase, his dark eyes following Elijah's every move.
The air seemed to charge with electricity as Elijah made his way up the stairs, trying to mask the unease bubbling in his chest. He wasn't sure what to expect tonight. He had no idea what Dominic had planned, but he could feel it deep in his bones: something was about to change.
Dominic gestured toward the door at the end of the hall. "Come in. We need to talk."
Elijah followed, his steps slow and deliberate, trying to calm the chaotic thoughts racing through his mind. As they entered Dominic's office, Elijah noticed the room had been rearranged, the large desk now replaced by a long, dark wooden table. There were candles lit around the room, their soft glow casting eerie shadows on the walls.
Dominic was already seated at the head of the table, his gaze never leaving Elijah. The power dynamic was obvious: Dominic was in control, and Elijah was a pawn in his game. But how long could Elijah keep playing? How long could he deny the growing attraction he had toward the mafia lord?
Elijah stood by the door, staring at Dominic with defiance. "What's this about?" he asked, though his voice lacked the confidence it once had.
Dominic's lips curled into a smile, but there was no warmth in it. "I think you know what this is about, Elijah."
Before Elijah could react, Dominic stood up and crossed the room toward him in three long strides. His presence overwhelmed Elijah, pushing him against the doorframe. The familiar, dangerous scent of him—leather, smoke, and something else Elijah couldn't name—was enough to make his heart race.
Dominic leaned in, his breath warm against Elijah's ear. "I told you before," he whispered, "you belong to me. I'm not asking anymore. I'm taking you."
Elijah froze, the words hitting him harder than he'd expected. For all his resistance, for all his attempts to push Dominic away, he knew, deep down, that he was already tangled in this web. There was no going back.
But the fight in him wasn't gone—not yet. Elijah pushed Dominic back, hard enough to break free from his grip. He stumbled a few steps backward, his breath shaky. "You don't get to control me," Elijah said, his voice trembling but defiant. "Not like this. Not anymore."
Dominic's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing with a deadly intensity. "You don't get a choice, Elijah. You never did."
Without warning, Dominic moved again, faster than Elijah could react, slamming him against the cold wall with a force that knocked the air out of his lungs. The impact was hard, but it was the look in Dominic's eyes that made Elijah's heart skip a beat: possessive, hungry, and yet something else—a flash of something that almost seemed like… regret.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world outside the walls of this room didn't exist anymore. It was just Dominic and Elijah, caught in a dangerous dance neither of them fully understood.
"You think you can escape me, Elijah?" Dominic's voice was low, dangerous, each word dripping with authority. "You think you can run from this? From me?"
Elijah swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of Dominic's presence crushing down on him. He was still trying to keep his composure, to hold onto the last threads of independence he had left. But Dominic's grip was unyielding, his power absolute.
"No," Elijah said, his voice barely a whisper, "But that doesn't mean you have me."
Dominic studied him, his dark gaze piercing as if he was looking into Elijah's very soul. There was a flicker of something—softness?—before he let out a sigh. He backed off slightly, though his presence still filled the room.
"You're so damn stubborn," Dominic muttered, running a hand through his hair. "But I like that about you."
Elijah, still trying to catch his breath, managed a sardonic smile. "Maybe you should stop liking things about me."
For a moment, the two of them stood there, locked in a silent, charged standoff. It was as if both were waiting for the other to make the next move, to give in or back down. Elijah didn't know how long they stood there, but the air was thick with unspoken words, with everything that had been said and everything that hadn't.
Finally, Dominic broke the silence. "You're not running away from me, Elijah. I won't let you."
Before Elijah could say anything else, the door slammed open behind them, and Vincent walked in. His expression was unreadable as he looked between the two of them, the tension in the room palpable.
Dominic turned toward Vincent with a sharp glance, but there was something about his expression now—the fierce determination that had once been anger was now tempered with something darker. Something far more dangerous.
"Get out," Dominic said simply, his tone still commanding but with a layer of something more. Vincent paused, then nodded and stepped back, shutting the door behind him.
Elijah wasn't sure what just happened, but the room felt colder now, the stakes even higher than before. Dominic wasn't just trying to possess him anymore. He wasn't trying to break him. He was trying to own him. And Elijah wasn't sure how long he could keep fighting back.
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