꧁༒༻༺༒꧂꧁༒༻༺༒꧂
༺༻Chapter4: A Night of Control༺༻
꧁༒༻༺༒꧂꧁༒༻༺༒꧂
The night was thick with silence, the kind that felt heavy, almost suffocating. The city outside Zayne's mansion was alive—cars humming in the distance, occasional horns blaring—but inside, within these cold walls, an entirely different tension brewed.
had just begun unwinding, pouring himself a drink, when he heard the sharp click of heels approaching his door. He recognized the sound immediately—Masha.
She didn't knock. She never did. The door swung open, and there she stood, blonde hair tousled in effortless disarray, lips painted blood-red, eyes sharp and predatory. She leaned against the doorway, smirking, her manicured nails tracing the frame as if she owned the place.
"Hi, daddy boy," she purred.
froze. A muscle in his jaw ticked.
The nickname had never bothered him before—he'd let her call him that in bed, in hushed whispers, between tangled sheets. But now? With Kalu sitting beside him, staring up with curious eyes? It felt… wrong. Disgusting, even.
His voice was firm, stripped of its usual amusement. "Masha, I told you, not tonight."
Her smirk widened as she stepped inside, hips swaying deliberately. She ignored his cold tone, slinking toward him like a cat who knew her owner could never resist. Her hands found his waist, pressing herself against him. Her perfume—expensive, heady—filled his senses, but it didn't intoxicate him like it used to.
"You always say that," she murmured, her breath warm against his neck. "And yet, we always end up in bed."
Kalu growled. Low, threatening.
Masha's head snapped toward the dog, her expression twisting in disgust. "Who is this cheap dog?"
Zayne's entire body went rigid. His hand instinctively rested on Kalu's head, fingers brushing through the pup's fur in silent reassurance. His expression darkened, his tone dropping into something lethal.
"This is Kalu," he said slowly, each word a warning. "And he's more than a dog to me."
Masha rolled her eyes. "Of course. You pick up strays now? Is that why you've been ignoring me?"
"Leave."
His voice left no room for argument. He stepped back, creating space between them, pointing toward the door. His Russian accent thickened—a sign of his rising anger.
Masha, instead of heeding his warning, did what she always did—ignored him. She grabbed her suitcase from the hallway and strutted deeper into the mansion, as if she had every right to be there.
Zayne's patience snapped.
He stormed after her, his steps heavy, his presence looming behind her like a dark shadow. "Now. I mean it." His voice was razor-sharp. "Get your shit and leave."
Kalu barked in the background, sensing his master's fury.
Masha, unfazed, tossed her suitcase onto the bed and unzipped it dramatically. "Oh, I see what's happening," she mused. "You've found a new slut in India. That's why you're treating me like this."
Zayne's fists clenched.
Masha let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Russian men are all the same. One night with another woman and suddenly, your sugar baby is disposable." She turned to face him fully, hands on her hips. "But let's not forget one thing, Zayne—my contract still has two months left. So, give me my money."
His glare could have turned her to ash.
"You think I'm going to give you money after this?" His voice was low, dangerous. "You think I'll pay you for nothing?"
Masha, unfazed, tilted her head. "Yes, daddy."
His entire body tensed at the way she said it, teasing, mocking.
Masha stepped closer, her fingers trailing up his chest, over the fabric of his shirt. "You know," she whispered, "if you don't want to pay me, there are other ways I can make you change your mind."
Before he could stop her, she sank to her knees in front of him, hands reaching for his belt.
froze.
For a brief moment, his mind warred between past instinct and present disgust. Once, he might have let this happen. Once, he might have pulled her hair back and let her do what she did best. But now? Now, the sight of her on her knees felt pathetic.
His disgust won.
With a brutal grip, he fisted her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him.
"You think a blowjob is going to change my mind?" His voice was sharp, cruel. His grip tightened in her hair, his knuckles whitening. "I said no."
Masha gasped but didn't retreat. She licked her lips, eyes playful. "Why don't you want my lips around you?"
"Because," he sneered, pushing her away, "I've had your lips around me enough times to last a lifetime. You're not special." He unbuckled his belt slightly, testing her reaction. She leaned forward, eager, and he laughed—dark, mocking. "You really think that's all it takes?"
Masha's breath hitched.
"I want a blowjob from someone who isn't a greedy, manipulative slut," he continued, his voice eerily calm. "Someone real."
Then, without breaking eye contact, he buckled his belt back up.
"Now get out before I throw you out myself."
Masha's face twisted in fury. "Fuck you!"
The slap came without warning.
His palm cracked against her cheek, the sound loud in the silent room. She staggered back, holding her face, eyes wide with shock.
"You fucking dare to talk to me like that?" His voice was ice.
He grabbed her by the throat, lifting her slightly off the ground. Her hands clawed at his, gasping.
"I could snap your neck right now," he whispered, his tone laced with deadly promise. "And no one would bat an eye."
Masha choked out, "Leave… me."
He threw her against the wall.
Her suitcase tumbled to the floor as she stumbled, gasping for breath. Kalu barked loudly, his tiny body shaking from the tension.
"GET OUT BEFORE I KILL YOU!" roared.
Masha scrambled to grab her suitcase. She was cursing in Russian, her voice shrill, but she knew better than to test him again. She stormed toward the door, slamming it behind her.
Silence.
The mansion felt emptier now.
Kalu whined softly, retreating behind the couch. closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, forcing himself to regain control. Slowly, he walked toward the couch, kneeling down.
"She scared you, huh?" His voice was quiet now, soft.
Kalu hesitated before crawling out. held out his hand. "Come here."
The pup sniffed his fingers, then pressed his small body against his palm, tail wagging slightly.
"Good boy."
scooped Kalu up, cradling him against his chest. He strode toward the kitchen, his boots clicking against the marble floor. Reaching into a cabinet, he pulled out a tin of premium dog biscuits.
He popped the lid, pulling out one of the treats.
"Here, little warrior," he murmured, placing it in front of Kalu.
The dog sniffed it before licking his hand, his trust in fully restored.
For the first time that night, allowed himself to breathe.
꧁༒༻༺༒꧂ ꧁༒༻༺༒꧂
༶•┈┈┈༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓༓┈┈┈•༶
༺ To be continued… ༻
꧁༒༻༺༒꧂꧂༒༻༺༒꧂
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