(Warning, Mature Content)

Another day that the warehouse didn’t feel like a training space.

It felt like something waiting.

Victoria’s voice reached me before I even stepped fully inside.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” she said, pushing off the wall like she’d been waiting specifically for me.

Her smile was the same as always.

Pretty.

Polished.

Too calm for the way the air felt.

I ignored it.

Ignored her.

But she followed anyway.

“You look tired,” she murmured, falling into step beside me. “Your boyfriend kept you up all night?”

Her tone was playful.

Her eyes weren’t.

“I’m here to train,” I said flatly.

She hummed like she didn’t believe me, fingers briefly brushing my arm as she moved ahead.

“Training,” she repeated softly. “Sure.”

That was when I saw Nico.

And the chair.

The man tied to it was awake.

Barely.

His head hung forward, chin resting against his chest, dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. Wrists bound tight behind the metal frame. Ankles secured. A gag pulled too tight across his mouth.

He wasn’t unconscious.

He was aware.

That was worse.

Nico crouched in front of him like a kid waiting for permission to open a present.

“There he is,” Nico said when he noticed me, grin spreading slowly. “Thought you were gonna miss the fun.”

Fun.

My stomach tightened.

The man made a weak sound behind the gag. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just enough to remind everyone in the room that he understood exactly what position he was in.

Victoria leaned casually against a table nearby, crossing one leg over the other.

“He stole,” she said simply. “Or talked. Depends on which version you believe.”

Dylan stepped out from the back hallway.

And suddenly the room felt smaller.

“He betrayed order,” Dylan corrected calmly.

Not angry.

Not loud.

Final.

His eyes moved to me.

“Lucas.”

That was all he said.

But I understood.

This wasn’t observation day.

This was participation.

Nico stood slowly, cracking his knuckles with visible anticipation.

“You ever hear the sound someone makes when they realize nobody’s coming to save them?” he asked conversationally, eyes never leaving the man.

The question wasn’t for me.

It was for himself.

And the excitement in his voice made my skin crawl.

The man’s breathing picked up. Small. Panicked. Trying not to make noise and failing anyway.

Victoria’s gaze drifted back to me, studying my face instead of the victim.

“Still think you’re built for this?” she asked quietly.

Not mocking.

Curious.

Dylan walked closer to the chair, placing one hand on the man’s shoulder. The same calm gesture he used with Ethan.

The contrast made my chest feel tight.

“We are not cruel without purpose,” Dylan said evenly. “But betrayal requires clarity.”

The man shook his head rapidly behind the gag.

Pleading.

Nico’s smile widened.

And for the first time since stepping into that warehouse—

I understood something that made my stomach drop.

There was no line between training and reality.

There never had been.

Dylan’s eyes met mine again.

“Come.”

Dylan didn’t raise his voice.

He never had to.

“Untie the gag,” he said.

Nico moved first, stepping forward eagerly. He yanked the fabric loose.

The man sucked in a desperate breath.

“Please,” he rasped immediately. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to— I swear—”

His voice cracked.

Dylan held up a hand and the man went quiet out of instinct alone.

“Explain,” Dylan said calmly.

The man’s eyes darted between all of us. Sweat rolled down his temple.

“I didn’t say anything. I didn’t give names. I just— I needed the money back. I was going to replace it. I swear.”

Nico laughed softly under his breath.

“Everyone swears.”

Victoria’s gaze slid to me again.

She wasn’t watching the man.

She was watching whether I would flinch.

Dylan stepped aside slightly.

“Lucas,” he said.

My name again.

An invitation. Or a test.

“Do you believe him?”

The man’s eyes snapped to mine.

Pleading.

Human.

I swallowed.

If this were training, there would be a right answer.

But this wasn’t training.

This was loyalty.

“I don’t know,” I said evenly.

Nico scoffed. “That’s cute.”

Dylan tilted his head.

“Indecision can be dangerous,” he said. “Order requires clarity.”

The man started shaking his head again.

“Please— My mother! She’s sick. She doesn’t know anything about this. I didn’t talk to anyone. I swear.”

That word again.

Swear.

It wasn’t going to help him here.

But it was the only defense he had.

Dylan walked closer to the chair.

“Betrayal,” he said calmly, “isn’t something we take lightly.”

He turned to Nico.

“Show him. But keep him alive.”

Nico didn’t hesitate.

He grabbed the man’s jaw, forcing his head up.

The sound the man made wasn’t dramatic.

It was small.

Fear compressed into something tight and raw.

I forced myself not to look away.

Because that was the point.

Victoria stepped closer to me.

Close enough that I could feel the heat of her arm near mine.

“You can still leave,” she murmured softly. “You can walk out and pretend you didn’t see this.”

Her voice was almost gentle.

“You know. If you can’t handle it,” she added.

That was the hook.

I didn’t respond.

Nico sighed.

“I don’t even know if I want to pull my knife out since I have to keep you alive. This is going to be boring.”

He looked over at me.

“Lucas, fill that bucket over there with water and bring it to me.”

I moved toward the bucket.

Before I could even turn fully, Nico kicked the man in the face so hard the entire chair fell backward.

The crack of impact echoed.

The man screamed— first from the kick, then from the metal frame hitting the floor.

Nico stood over him.

“If I had it my way, I’d slit your throat open and pry the cut wider with my bare hands.”

The image formed instantly in my head.

I wished it hadn’t.

I walked back over with the bucket full of water.

The man lay on his back, restrained, helpless.

“Get down there,” Nico said. “Pinch his nose shut. Roll up your sleeve. You’re gonna get wet.”

“Please! Please, Nico! Please don’t do this!” the man yelled as I gripped his nose.

Nico didn’t hesitate.

He poured.

Water flooded the man’s mouth.

My eyes widened.

This was worse than the torture you see in movies.

And I had a front row seat.

Up close.

Personal.

I caught myself holding my breath with him.

When he broke—

We heard the choking.

The gargling.

His body thrashed violently.

His legs kicked.

He tried turning his head but couldn’t.

I felt my body wanting to shake.

I didn’t let it.

Noah.

There were things scarier than assisting a psychopath in drowning a man.

And that was doing anything that could cause Noah to be harmed.

Dylan.

Victoria.

They were watching me.

Not him.

This continued until the man started trembling uncontrollably.

Nico told me to release him and kicked the chair sideways so gravity helped the water drain.

The man coughed violently.

Gasping.

Crying.

Alive.

Nico pulled out a pocket knife and slowly sliced a horizontal line across the center of the man’s forehead.

Blood trickled down his face.

And when Nico saw it—

He smiled.

I could see the satisfaction in his eyes.

“See?” he said casually. “He’s learning.”

Learning.

The word made something cold slide into place inside my chest.

Nico stepped in front of the man and delivered a hard kick to his stomach.

“Come on. Spit it out already,” Nico commanded.

The man cried out.

And I didn’t flinch.

That’s what scared me.

Not the violence.

Not the fear.

The fact that my body adapted so quickly to being a part of it.

Dylan nodded once.

That quiet acknowledgment hit harder than anything else in the room.

“You understand,” Dylan said.

It wasn’t a question.

I imagined refusing.

I imagined pushing back.

I imagined Dylan looking at Noah the way he once looked at Ethan.

Measuring usefulness.

Evaluating leverage.

Control disguised as order.

Fear packaged as protection.

This was how the system protected itself.

This was how people were made compliant.

And if I stayed valuable—

Noah would never be considered useful again.

That was the lie I chose.

After a few more controlled strikes, Dylan lifted a hand.

“Enough.”

Nico stepped back reluctantly.

The man was conscious.

Shaking.

Broken in the right ways.

Message delivered.

Dylan stepped closer.

“You will repay what you took,” he said evenly. “Or your sister will.”

The man nodded frantically.

Dylan looked at me one more time.

“Good,” he said.

Not praise.

Not celebration.

Acceptance.

Victoria stepped in front of me as I headed for the door.

“You didn’t look away,” she said quietly.

“I’m not fragile,” I replied.

Her smile was faint.

“No,” she agreed. “You’re not.”

Her eyes searched mine.

“It’s kind of hot, you know. Watching you turn into one of us.”

I froze.

No.

I will never turn into one of them.

I didn’t respond.

I walked out.

The air outside felt different.

Quieter.

Too normal.

I got into my car and drove.

When I pulled into the apartment parking lot, I didn’t move right away.

I stared at my hands on the steering wheel.

They didn’t look different.

No blood.

No visible damage.

It should have bothered me more.

It should have made me sick.

Instead—

I felt steady.

That’s what scared me.

I sat there longer than I meant to.

Waiting for guilt.

Waiting for horror.

What I felt instead was control.

Like I was slowly falling into a black hole of numbness.

And I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight it.

The apartment was quiet when I walked in.

Not empty.

Not cold.

Just… calm.

The kind of calm that made everything from the warehouse feel unreal for a second.

Noah was on the couch when I stepped inside, legs tucked under him, scrolling through something on his phone. He looked up immediately when the door clicked shut.

And he smiled.

Soft.

Relieved.

Like my presence alone fixed something inside him.

That smile hit harder than anything Dylan or Nico had done. Or made me do…

“You’re back,” he said, already standing.

I didn’t answer right away.

I couldn’t.

Because the space between the warehouse and this room felt too thin — like if I spoke too quickly, the wrong version of me would slip out.

So instead of walking toward him—

I walked past him.

Straight down the hallway.

I didn’t mean for it to feel harsh.

Didn’t mean for it to feel like rejection.

But I felt his stillness behind me the second I passed.

That quiet pause.

That small confusion.

“Lucas?” he called softly.

I kept moving.

The bedroom door shut behind me before I even realized I’d reached it.

The silence that followed was loud.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my hands.

They weren’t shaking.

That was the problem.

I could still feel the weight of the bucket.

The sound of choking.

The way Nico smiled when blood appeared.

And worse than all of it—

The part of me that stayed calm.

The part that understood.

I dragged my hands down my face, trying to breathe through the pressure building in my chest.

A quiet knock.

Then the door opened anyway.

Noah stepped in like he always did — gentle but determined, like distance was something he refused to accept between us.

“You didn’t even say hi,” he murmured.

Not accusing.

Just confused.

I didn’t look up right away.

“I’m tired,” I said.

It sounded flat. Even to me.

Noah hesitated before walking closer.

I could feel him watching me — the way he studies small changes like they matter more than the obvious ones.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing.”

Lie.

He didn’t push immediately.

He never does.

Instead, he sat beside me, close enough that our knees brushed.

That tiny contact almost broke me.

“You didn’t even look at me when you came in,” he whispered.

The softness in his voice made guilt twist in my chest.

“I’m here now,” I said.

Another half-truth.

His fingers hovered near mine — not touching yet. Giving me space to decide.

I hated that he felt like he had to.

“You feel far away,” he admitted.

I swallowed.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

I felt like I was standing in two rooms at once — one where a man begged for air, and one where Noah looked at me like I was something safe.

And I didn’t know how to exist in both.

Noah’s hand finally slid over mine.

Warm.

Careful.

Real.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he said softly. “But don’t shut me out.”

That was the moment my stomach dropped.

Not because he asked.

Because he understood.

And I didn’t deserve that understanding right now.

I exhaled slowly.

“I’m not shutting you out,” I said.

But I didn’t sound convincing.

Noah turned slightly toward me, studying my face like he was trying to memorize whatever version of me was sitting here.

Then his voice dropped, quieter.

“You feel like you’re somewhere else.”

I finally looked at him.

And the concern in his eyes nearly undid every wall I’d built on the drive home.

“I’m here,” I said again.

This time softer.

Less certain.

His fingers tightened around mine.

“Then stay,” he whispered.

His other hand reached up to cup my cheek before he kissed my lips.

“I’ll always stay,” I whispered back.

Always… because nobody can make me feel the way you do. Not this safe. It’s like nothing else matters when I’m with you.

Those sweet kisses only became more tender. Only more loaded with emotion.

I reached up to cup Noah’s face and felt tears.

“Baby?” I whispered into the kiss.

“Don’t shut me out again… and don’t ignore me… please.”

I wiped his cheeks with my thumbs.

“I promise I won’t. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. The day I had… it was long.”

He rested his forehead against mine.

Noah grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in closer until our lips met again.

The kiss started off slow, almost unsure, before quickly escalating into something more passionate. Something more desperate as we clung to each other, hands searching each other for where to grab next for more leverage during the kiss.

Then Noah climbed on top of me, straddling my lap as we continued to explore each other’s mouths.

Hips grinding into each other.

I could feel his stiffness against mine.

My kisses moved down his jaw to his neck, teasing, sucking, biting the skin, and I felt Noah shiver and moan.

His grip on my shoulders tightened and I groaned.

Everything about him feels like a blessing from God, and I had the nerve to ignore him when I walked in.

I don’t deserve this.

This feels like damage control.

I can’t go through with this the way my body wants me to.

Noah kissed my lips again and then my neck.

That felt way too good.

I pulled back from the kiss and laid him onto his back next to me.

“Noah…” I whispered. “Let’s not…”

“I want you, Lucas…” Noah said bashfully.

He was so cute. He never initiated before. It felt good to see him take control. Even though it was the role I wanted to be in, I welcomed it.

Seeing Noah take control should’ve comforted me. Instead, it made my chest ache.

“Don’t reward me for ignoring you. Punish me.”

“H-how? Why?”

“Because I deserve it. Because you deserve better than me.”

I said as I unzipped his jeans and pulled them off. Next came his shirt.

I wanted to see every inch of his beautiful body. Smaller, leaner than mine but still visibly toned with muscle. A slightly defined six-pack of abs.

I undressed myself next. First my top, then my bottoms.

Our eyes drank in each other’s naked forms.

I rubbed my hand down his body starting from his cheek, down his neck, chest, abs, and finally his V-line.

I slipped him into my mouth and the entire time my eyes didn’t leave his face.

He gasped.

I needed to see him looking down at me with his beautiful green eyes. I needed to see how every move of my mouth affected him.

I knew we were off to a good start when I saw him clench the bed sheets and felt his legs squirm.

“Ah… Lucas…” he whimpered.

I grabbed his hands and moved them behind my head, forcing him to grab me. My hands still covering his, I forced myself down further onto him until I gagged.

Noah tried to pull his hands back but I wouldn’t let him.

“Lucas stop! You’re hurting yourself.”

My mouth released him.

“Noah, I’m fine. I want this. Force yourself down my throat as far as you can. Do what makes you feel good.”

“But—”

“Noah, I said I want this. Don’t overthink it.”

Noah nodded and kept his hands in my hair, holding on tightly for leverage after I sucked him back in. He was taking control of my movements.

This is what I wanted.

I used my left hand to pinch and tease his nipple and my right hand to take care of myself as I continued to please him with my mouth.

At some point it must have felt better than he expected. Especially when his eyes closed, his head fell back onto the bed, and his moans only came out broken like he had lost all control over his actions. Just sensation taking over as his hips thrust upward and his grip in my hair became tighter.

And I didn’t back down. I didn’t come up for air. My lungs burned, my eyes watered, and still I held there — steady.

I needed the ache.

I needed the pressure.

I needed to feel something that wasn’t cold.

“N-Ngh, Lucas…”

Sounds like he’s close. I can feel his body starting to tremble.

“Ah!”

Noah let out a strong moan as he came in my mouth. He actually did force himself down my throat when he did too. Just like I asked him to.

I released him and held onto his thigh until I reached my own release.

For a split second, my mind betrayed me.

Not the bedroom. Not Noah.

The warehouse.

A man pinned to concrete. My fingers sealed his nose shut while water filled his lungs. I listened to him fight for air. Watched his body betray him in panic. And I didn’t look away.

Now I let my own lungs burn on purpose.

But this time — it was for Noah.

He struggled for breath.

I surrendered mine willingly to the man I love.

The difference was choice.

That was the only drowning I could control.

Noah and I laid in bed tangled into each other kissing, biting, licking, grinding. We rubbed our bodies against each other as if neither of us could get enough.

We even took time to stretch each other for the day “it” happens.