Wicked Master's Trap

They called him ruthless. They called her fragile. But fate never cared for names. Asher Dominic was born to power. Heir to an empire, carved by shadows and sharpened by control. Men feared him. Women desired him. The world obeyed him. With a glance, he could break; with a word, he could command. To Asher, loyalty was currency, and love was a weakness reserved for fools. Then came Kiara. His little one. His fragile rabbit. His pretty puppy. She was too small, too naïve, too delicate for the kingdom he ruled. To him, she was supposed to be nothing more than a possession, another body for his desires, another heart silenced beneath his hand. But the timid girl who should have bowed the lowest was the only one who shattered his rules. Her tears cut deeper than blades. Her trembling voice wrecked the walls he had built. Her love, raw, unyielding, asking for nothing yet giving everything, became the poison he could not live without. For in this game of master and pet, of chains and vows, of scars and desire, the trap had already been set. He had chained her body, broken her voice, twisted her heart. Yet in her weakness lay the only strength that could unmake him. And Asher learned the cruelest lesson of all: the trap he set for Kiara was the very one that bound him. Because sometimes, it is the master who is caught, and the servant who becomes his crown. Neither of them was free. And love was their most wicked snare.