image [https://img.wattpad.com/story_parts/1499473186/images/180cfa2b92f94ed4772270017707.jpg]

Sylus's icy fingers wrap around your wrist as he leads you through the twisting hallways of the manor. Your footsteps echo on the black and white marble floor. It's dim, but you take every moment to memorize your surroundings, noting a potential escape route.

"And exactly when did I permit you to handle me like this? Where are you taking me anyway?"

"To repay your debt." He responds with a flat tone. You arrive before an ornate elevator door adorned with intricate, spiraling black flowers. Sylus taps a button, and a bell rings through the hallway, sending a chill down your spine. The doors roll open, and Sylus presses his hand to the small of your back, ushering you inside. He's a little too comfortable touching you. Does he do this with every woman he steals from his parties? You shuffle inside and continue your interrogation.

"Repay my debt by doing what, exactly?"

"So many questions," he mumbles, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He selects a button, and the elevator grumbles to life. Your stomach drops, along with the elevator. The weight of his gaze is heavy as he rakes his eyes over your figure. It's as if he's appraising every detail of you. For a moment, you forget to breathe. His presence is overwhelming; every word and movement is calculated to keep you off balance. Averting your gaze, you bite your lip.

Under the glow of the elevator light, your gold necklace sparkles, capturing Sylus's attention [https://img.wattpad.com/a83b56334298993eed5c25376e4caf7ce589c487/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f413855504c5242787a594a4670413d3d2d313439393437333138362e313830636639626432616637616661363138383831393436393930332e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Under the glow of the elevator light, your gold necklace sparkles, capturing Sylus's attention. "Hm, what's this?" He murmurs, bringing his fingers to the base of your neck. You wince at his sudden contact. The chain rustles as Sylus thumbs the "M" of your necklace and smiles. "Looks like I found a clue, Miss M." Snatching your necklace back, you glare at him.

"Vigalant are we?" He has a sarcastic lilt to his tone as he cocks his brow at you. "I like that. Why don't you let me have a go at asking the questions this time?" The hum of the elevator fills the space as he closes in on you. Cold metal kisses the smooth skin of your back as he pushes you, bracing his arm above you. Red mist radiates from his right eye, and you can't help but think your own are playing tricks on you. It disappears almost as soon as it appears, though. His tall figure envelops yours, and you hold your breath, focusing on the buttons of his black dress shirt. Milky muscles peek out from the dip of his collar, sending an unwanted flush to your cheeks. You allowed your gaze to linger, assessing if his physique indicated his combat skills—a necessary survival tactic and nothing else. Right?

"I believe you have something I'm looking for, Miss M." He lifts your chin, lingering a moment too long in the space before his next words. "And you're going to comply with me."

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"That's a bold assumption. What makes you so sure I'd agree so easily?" You challenge.

"Because you're going to need me very soon." He releases you, sending an unfamiliar ripple through your body as if it wasn't ready to say goodbye yet. The elevator lurches to a halt, the metallic groan resonating in your chest. The doors slide open, revealing a sprawling, dimly lit chamber humming with energy. Just how many floors did we go down?

"After you," he says smoothly, his smirk sharpening.

You glance at him, your gut twisting. Whatever lay ahead, you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You square your shoulders and step forward, your heels clicking defiantly against the floor. Hurried staff in black and white whirl past you, chattering orders at each other. Glowing monitors flash an alphabet of symbols as staff punch in numbers and dollar amounts. The laughter of what sounds like a sizable crowd follows a gentle ballad that melts in from the ceiling above. A staff member knocks your shoulder as they race by with a silver tray of mechanical parts.

Behind you, Sylus's chuckle echoes like a warning, low and dangerous. "Hear that? Your fans are waiting."

Fans? You wanted to respond, to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face, but before you could find the words, a figure approaches. "Master Sylus," the man says, bowing slightly. "We've prepared all necessary materials and are ready to begin. Please allow me to escort your selected subject to the arena."

Sylus receives a black device from the man before returning his gaze back to you. "I assume you already know how to act as good bait," he states. His cool fingers swipe a lock of your hair back before securing the communication device around your ear. With wide eyes, you move instinctively and ball your fist against his chest.

"Bait? What are you talking about? I demand to know what's happening!" You let out with a sharp tone. "Sylus, answer me. You have no right to—"

Sylus slides his hand under your jaw, pressing his thumb into your cheek. "Do you think you're in any position to ask the questions here?" His expression remains unreadable. "Did you naively believe you could enter the wolf's den without attracting its attention?" Your breath catches at his words. "Enjoy the stage—it's all yours now, kitten." He turns and disappears into the crowd without another word. You stalk forward with shaky steps, but are jerked back by the man in black and white.

"This way, ma'am," he orders.

Before you have enough time to shake him off, more attendants usher you down the stairs and into the holding room that opens into the arena. Unlike the rest of the manor, this room hummed with the same tech back at HQ. The last of the staff shuffles out as the metallic door slides shut, leaving you alone. Does he really think I'd just stand here and play this crazy game with him? By that logic, he probably expects me to thank him—he's totally psycho! Your fingers curl into fists, nails digging into your palms. If he wanted a fight, he was going to get one. The crackle of the speaker in the room sounds, and a woman's voice chimes in.

"Welcome, honored guests, to tonight's main event," she announces. "We're upping the stakes tonight with a new player joining the game." The cheering of the crowd echoes beyond the room.

You grit your teeth, and the earpiece buzzes to life. "That would be you, sweetie."

"Sylus!" You frantically press on the device, pacing the room. "Do you really expect me to fight? Couldn't you at least—"

The speaker interrupts you. "You know the drill, every game begins with a bet. Our special guest has graciously agreed to assist with a special demonstration. Let's see if she has the luck to back it up."

Your stomach knots as the monitor in the room flickers to life, showing a sea of unfamiliar faces leering in anticipation.

"Sylus!" you hiss, banging on the door. "Get me out of here—now! I didn't sign up for this."

His laugh slithers through the connection. "Didn't you?" His voice is slick and steely. "You wanted in, and now you're part of the show—just not in the way you expected. Consider this... your initiation."

"Sylus, this is insane! I can't—"

"You can. And you will." The crowd's thunderous cheers drown out the rest of his words. Then, with infuriating ease, he drawls, "Smile for the audience, kitten. They're betting on you."