The next morning, Elian woke to a small envelope on the bedside table.
It was thick, heavy. Embossed with the faint emblem of Leonhart's company.
Inside: a card, crisp and cold.
"A trust fund. Your name. Immediate access."
Elian stared at the card, heart pounding.
The sum was more than he'd ever seen in his life.
Freedom. Escape.
But beneath it lay a warning—an unspoken chain.
---
Leonhart appeared in the doorway, watching.
"So, you finally got your prize," he said, voice dark.
Elian looked up, calm. "Thank you."
Leonhart stepped closer. "It's not charity. It's a contract."
Elian's lips curled. "Funny, I thought we already had one."
Leonhart smiled—sharp and cruel. "This one's different."
"You're afraid I'll leave."
"No."
Leonhart's eyes darkened. "I'm afraid you'll take what's mine—and walk away."
Elian's smile didn't waver.
"Then why stay?"
Leonhart moved in, voice low, dangerous.
"Because I want to see how long you last pretending you don't need me."
---
The apartment seemed colder after that.
Elian wore the weight of the trust fund like a secret weapon.
Leonhart's cruelty turned sharper, more desperate.
And Elian played the perfect servant.
But every time Leonhart touched him, it was a reminder—Elian wasn't here for love.
He was here for the money.
And the moment it landed in his account, he would walk.
---
Chapter 9 Preview:
Leonhart's obsession grows—he tries to "buy" Elian's loyalty.
Elian begins planning his escape.
A confrontation breaks the fragile balance.