TO BELONG TO CEASER

CHAPTER4: POSSESSIVE

Agnes couldn’t sleep.

The mansion was too quiet, too large, too foreign. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of the guards outside, rattled her already frayed nerves. She lay on the edge of the soft bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what exactly her fate was here.

The rules weighed heavily on her mind. Strict, strange, suffocating. But as terrifying as this man Caesar seemed, she found herself oddly grateful for one thing, she hadn’t ended up in the hands of that revolting old man at the auction. Just the thought of his wrinkled hands on her skin made her stomach twist in disgust.

Here, at least, she wasn’t touched. At least not yet.

But why had Caesar bought her? He didn’t want her body, he said. Then what did he want?

Across the mansion, Caesar was fastening the heavy locks on his bedroom door. It was routine, a nightly ritual, and one he couldn’t afford to fail. His reflection stared back at him from the tall mirror, sharp cheekbones, dark eyes, a body honed by years of discipline and battle. And yet, behind all that perfection, the beast inside stirred, scratching at the surface.

Tonight, it was restless.

He could already feel the heat surging through his veins, the claws threatening to break his skin. He shoved the thought down, fastening the last lock before reaching for his phone.

“Xavier,” he said when the line picked up.

The voice on the other end was lazy, amused, but steady. “Still alive, brother?”

Caesar ignored the jest. “Any news?”

A pause. Then: “No. Nothing yet.”

His jaw tightened. Always no. No matter how far he dug, no matter how deep he buried his men into the underground network, answers about his parents remained elusive.

“Dig further,” Caesar ordered. His voice was clipped, controlled, though his chest burned with rage. “I want everything. Names. Dates. Why they abandoned me.”

“I’ll keep pushing,” Xavier replied. “You know I will.”

Caesar hung up without another word. He leaned against the cold wood of his door, exhaling heavily. This life, his empire, his wealth, his fearsome reputation, it all meant nothing if he didn’t unravel the truth about his blood. About the curse that turned him into a monster every night.

He slid the final lock into place. Tonight would be long.

—

Morning spilled into the mansion too quickly for Agnes. She sat up, groggy and pale, smoothing down her tangled red hair. Unsure of her duties, she lingered in the room, debating whether she should bring coffee to Caesar’s chambers. But his rules echoed in her head like thunder: Do not disturb me. Not at midnight. Not in the morning.

The memory of his cold eyes silenced her hesitation. She swallowed hard, deciding instead to venture downstairs. At least the kitchen might give her something to do.

But the moment she stepped into the hallway, she collided with something solid.

“Ah—sorry!” she gasped, nearly stumbling back.

A hand caught her wrist before she could regain balance. Strong, firm. She looked up and found herself staring at a tall man, broad shouldered, his dirty blond hair falling across sharp, wolfish features. His smile was easy, but his eyes glimmered with something darker.

“Well, well,” he drawled, not letting go of her wrist. “Who do we have here?”

Agnes pulled back slightly, uneasy, though his grip tightened. “I—I’m Agnes,” she stammered, trying to sound polite. “And you are?”

“Xavier,” he said smoothly. His eyes roamed over her, slow and deliberate, like he was undressing her with a single look. “Second in command. The boss’s… closest friend.” He tilted his head, smirk widening. “Strange. I’ve never seen you before.”

Agnes forced a small smile, tugging her hand from his. “I just… arrived.”

The way his gaze burned over her sent heat rushing to her cheeks. There was no mistaking it, this man was dangerous. Not in the cold, commanding way Caesar was. No, Xavier was a predator of a different kind. Charming. Playful. But hungry.

“I see,” Xavier murmured, leaning slightly closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Then welcome. Though something tells me you’re… different.” His eyes flicked down to her lips, lingering there far too long.

Her stomach twisted. She needed to get away. “I should be going,” she said quickly, her voice soft but firm.

He smirked. “Of course. But remember… this house has many doors. And not all of them are locked.”

Her breath caught. She turned swiftly, walking away before his words could coil deeper into her mind. She didn’t dare look back, though she felt his eyes on her with every step.

From the shadowed stairwell above, Caesar had seen everything.

His jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. Xavier’s hand on her wrist. The way he looked at her.

Heat surged through him, not just rage, but something darker, primal, something that made the beast within snarl. Xavier had always been reckless with women, but this… this was unforgivable.

Because Agnes was off limit.

Even if he didn’t know why he had bought her, even if he didn’t yet understand what tethered his gaze to her flame red hair and trembling lips, one thing was certain: she was off limits.

Xavier knew it too. And yet, he pushed.

Caesar’s nails dug into his palms as he fought the shift stirring in his veins. His control was razor thin, but he forced himself to stand still. To breathe. He could not let the beast show. Not here. Not now.

But a silent vow was etched into his mind.

Xavier may have been his brother in arms, his only confidant, but if he touched Agnes again… Caesar would tear him apart.