The air inside Command K was thick with sweat, steel, and the raw stench of fear. Recruits lined the floor, breathing hard after drills. Their knuckles were bruised, some split, their eyes wide from exhaustion. The initiation week had already claimed a few who couldn't handle the fire—now the rest were holding on, barely.Elena stood at the far end of the room, her hair damp with sweat, the black training gear hugging her body. She wasn't trembling. She wasn't winded like the others. Her pulse drummed steady, but not from exhaustion—from hunger.Not hunger for food.
For him.
Dominic.
He hadn't shown his face tonight, but she felt him. Watching. Always watching. Somewhere beyond the walls, in the shadows, his eyes were on her. It made her skin burn, it made her veins sing.The instructor barked out another round. "Pair up!"
A tall recruit with a shaved head stepped toward her. He was smirking, his mouth twisted with arrogance. He'd been eyeing her since day one, mocking her slower punches, sneering every time she stumbled.
He thought she didn't notice.
He thought she was weak.
"Don't go easy on her," someone muttered from the sidelines, and laughter followed.
The shaved-head recruit leaned close as they circled, his words dripping poison. "Pretty little doll… maybe if you beg, I won't break that delicate jaw of yours."
Something in her snapped.
The laughter in the room turned into a faint buzz in her skull, her vision narrowing. She wasn't the orphan girl anymore. She wasn't the receptionist with a condo and a stable job. She wasn't the stalker sitting in the dark, watching Dominic from a distance.
She was his and no one mocked what belonged to Dominic,Before he even lifted his arm, Elena moved. Her fist slammed into his nose with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across the mats. Gasps tore through the recruits, some stepping back instinctively.
The man screamed, clutching his face, but she wasn't done.She grabbed him by the collar and kneed him in the stomach so hard he choked. Her hand went for the training knife strapped at her thigh, and without hesitation, she pressed the blunt blade against his throat.
Her eyes were wild, glistening, not with fear...never with fear but with something that made the room colder.
"Say it again," she hissed, her voice sugar and venom all at once. "Call me a doll. I'll carve your tongue out and feed it to you."
Silence.
Every recruit stared, frozen. Even the instructor didn't step forward.
The man beneath her whimpered, blood leaking through his fingers, staining the floor.
And Elena… she smiled. Sweet. Innocent. Almost girlish. But her grip didn't loosen.That smile terrified them more than her violence.
From the shadows, unseen, Dominic leaned against the steel railing of the upper balcony. Mark stood at his side, stiff, watching."She's losing it," Mark whispered. "She'll kill him if you don't—"Dominic lifted a hand. Just one. A warning.
His eyes were fixed on her. Sharp, burning, hungry.
That was no weakness down there.
That was fire.
His fire.
Finally, the instructor cleared his throat and barked at Elena to stand down. She let go, the recruit collapsing, coughing blood onto the floor.
She turned away slowly, her face calm, her hands shaking only from the adrenaline that hadn't yet burned out.But inside her chest, she was glowing. He saw me. I know he saw me.
She didn't need to check the shadows. Didn't need proof. She felt him and that was enough.
The training hall emptied one recruit at a time, whispers spreading like wildfire. Everyone kept sneaking glances at Elena, but no one dared speak to her. They didn't know if she was fragile… or if she was a monster.
Elena sat against the wall, her knees tucked to her chest, her body humming with leftover adrenaline. She should've felt guilt. She should've felt shame.
But all she felt was warmth.
A dark, heady warmth in her veins, as though every punch, every drop of blood spilled on the mat had stitched her closer to Dominic.
She closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Did you see me, Dominic? Did you see I'm not weak? That I'm not just some stray you pulled into your empire?
Her lips curved in a small, eerie smile. I'll burn for you. I'll bleed for you. I'll kill for you.
Upstairs, in the private wing of Command K, Dominic was already waiting in his office when Mark entered."They're rattled," Mark said flatly, closing the door behind him. "The recruits are whispering about her. Some of them are already scared of her."
Dominic didn't look up from his glass of scotch. The amber liquid swirled lazily in his hand, catching the dim light. His other hand rested on the arm of his chair, relaxed.
"And the boy?" Dominic asked. His voice was calm, but it carried weight.
Mark hesitated. "Broken nose. Ribs bruised. He'll live, but… he won't forget the humiliation. He's already talking about revenge."Dominic's eyes finally lifted. Cold. Calculated.
"Then he won't live long enough to try."
Mark stiffened. He should've expected that answer, but the swiftness of it still caught him. "Sir—" Dominic cut him off with a glance sharp enough to silence him.
"She's mine now," Dominic said evenly. "Every move she makes reflects me. If I let a worm like him crawl away after daring to touch her… what does that say about me?"
Mark shifted uneasily. "Still… it was too hard on her. New recruits aren't usually pushed like this. If she breaks—"Dominic leaned forward, his voice low but edged like a blade."She won't break. She can't. If she wants to stand beside me, she has to be harder than anyone else I have. Better. I don't want a liability at my side. I'm doing it for her own sake."
Mark swallowed, nodded. He knew better than to push further.
That night, when the compound was quiet and the halls dark, two masked men dragged the bloodied recruit through the back corridors. His muffled protests echoed weakly as they hauled him into the underground chamber—the one no one spoke of.Dominic stood waiting. His tailored black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, his expression calm as stone.
The recruit's eyes widened when he saw him. "P-please… it was just training, I didn't mean—""Shh." Dominic's tone was almost soothing. "You disrespected her. You marked yourself the moment you did. There's no undoing that."
The recruit's voice cracked with terror. "She's just a girl—"
Dominic's jaw tightened. "She is mine."
The scream that followed never left the chamber.