Caleb went entirely still, the cold air hitting the sweat on his neck.

"You recorded that."

"She put her mouth on you," the woman whispered, completely ignoring his realization. "In a filthy room. On a cheap carpet. While you were bleeding."

She stood up, pulling the corset zipper tight as she walked around the table. Her focus remained entirely on his face.

"Let go of my hips, Caleb," she said. "Or I end her career tonight."

Caleb processed the leverage. Controlling the military network and dropping Executive-tier capsules into a combat zone meant destroying a First Division prodigy would require exactly one anonymous data dump to the corporate sponsor boards. He felt the dull ache in his fractured collarbone. He lacked the energy to fight a billionaire inside a secure commercial spire.

Loosening his fingers, he let his hands fall to his sides.

She smiled, the pixels around her eyes flickering once before dropping to her knees between his spread thighs.

Cold manicured fingers worked his belt open, yanking the zipper down to shove the heavy canvas aside. The freezing room hit his skin right before she took him into her mouth.

The contrast shocked his system. While the ambient temperature of the empty bar sat near freezing, her mouth felt scalding. Holding him deep for a long second, she kept her eyes fixed upward before starting to move. The pace began slow, her tongue pressing flat along the underside with every stroke, then accelerated into a punishing rhythm.

Caleb forced a sharp breath through his nose as the new muscle density across his chest locked rigid under her hands. Reacting to the adrenaline spike, the starving anomaly behind his sternum pulled raw heat through his veins.

Pulling back just enough to speak, she brushed her lips against him.

"She put her mouth on you in that filthy motel." She took another slow stroke, curling her tongue. "On her knees like a common whore. While you were bleeding." Her nails dug into his thighs hard enough to leave crescent marks in his skin. "You let her."

Diving back down, the tight suction stripped away his control. Her head bobbed with a sharp, territorial rhythm that left saliva slicking her chin and dripping onto the floorboards.

Clenching his jaw until his teeth ached, Caleb found the back of her head. His fingers tangled in the dark hair, wrapping the single neon-green strand around his knuckles. Maintaining his grip without pulling, he focused on drawing slow, measured breaths to keep his expression blank.

She looked up at him through the composite face, tracking his restraint.

"Mine," she growled around him. The vibration traveled straight down his spine. "Not hers. Not the princess. Not the military. Not the yards."

Hollowing her cheeks, she worked him faster while sliding one hand up to press flat over the center of his chest. Her nails scraped lightly across the medical tape sealing his collarbone.

Caleb locked his thighs tight. The anomaly in his ribs fed on the friction and the rising pulse in his blood. She dragged him right to the edge and held him there, keeping her eyes locked on his until he finally came with a choked grunt. His hips jerked once. She took every pulse, swallowing greedily while her nails dug deeper into his legs to brand her claim into the muscle.

Sitting back on her heels, she wiped the corner of her mouth with a manicured thumb and licked it clean. The composed executive mask slid right back into place.

She rose smoothly and straightened her dress like they had just finished a business meeting.

"See?" she murmured, leaning down to press a soft, almost tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Next time the princess looks at you too long, I won’t be this polite about reminding you who you belong to."

Caleb stared at the ceiling. He waited for his chest to stop heaving before sitting up slowly to fix his clothes. "This won’t happen again."

A bright laugh bounced off the polished wood walls. "Oh Caleb. You always say things like that."

Perching on the edge of the table right in front of him, she swung her legs lightly. "You really think you can just shut me out now?"

He dragged out a low, annoyed sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t even know who you are."

"I have known you longer than I can say," she replied, keeping her voice playful. "I watched you haul marrow in the yards before you even knew my name existed. I know exactly how stubborn that jaw of yours gets when you think you can shut me out."

He let out another tired breath. "That doesn’t change anything."

The composite pixels around her eyes shifted happily. "It changes everything. I will have you again soon. Properly this time. No cold bar floor. No threats. Just you and me somewhere warm where I can take my time with you."

Caleb looked at her with a flat stare. "You don’t get to decide that."

"But I do," she said cheerfully.

Reaching out, she brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead, letting her fingers linger for a second before pulling back. "I kept you breathing when the whole grid wanted you dead. I bought the stream. I bought the capsule. I bought every second you are still walking around in one piece. So yes, I get to decide when and how I take care of what’s mine."

He accepted the weight behind every word without shifting away from her touch. "You talk like this is normal."

"It will be normal," she said.

Standing up, she offered a hand as if closing a standard negotiation. "Eat enough. Rest when your body demands it. I did not keep you breathing just to watch you die in some worthless carcass. Promise me you will at least try."

Staring at her hand for a beat, Caleb took it and stood. "I manage."

"Good enough for now," she said, squeezing his fingers once before letting go. The cold executive demeanor locked fully into place. "The car will take you back to your base."

Turning toward the heavy oak doors, she threw a final glance over her shoulder. "Try not to break the new uniform."

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Caleb walked back through the restricted corridor and out into the subterranean garage where the heavy black sedan idled in the exact same spot. A driver in a crisp suit opened the rear door. Stepping inside, the door shut behind him with a heavy, pressurized thud, sealing off the ambient noise of the commercial core completely.

The transport began to move.

Sitting alone in the spacious cabin, he leaned his head back against the plush headrest and closed his eyes. The tinted windows turned the bright neon signs of the upper sectors into muted smears of color.

The ride gave his body enough time to notice everything at once. Dried sweat cooled beneath the fresh undersuit. Bruises pulled across his shoulder and collarbone whenever the car shifted.

The meal sat heavy in his stomach, but the thing behind his sternum had already started taking from it. Heat spread through his chest in slow, uncomfortable waves, tightening around the old fracture until the ache changed into a deep itch beneath the bone.

Riding in a vehicle worth more than his mother’s entire housing block sat heavy in his mind. In a few hours, he would be thrown back into the dirt to shoot mechanical targets.

The night had shown him exactly how far her reach went. She could pull him out of his world, feed him, use him, and send him back before roll call.

She had his military clearance, his stream, and the debt keeping his brother alive.

Pressing his taped knuckles against his forehead, Caleb calculated his options. Hitting Rank C to secure the untaxed bonus pay was the only way to build his own leverage. Until then, he had to play the role she demanded and survive the drills.

As the sedan descended into a long transit tunnel, the smooth glide of the luxury suspension absorbed every bump in the road. Caleb let the rhythmic hum of the engine lull his exhausted brain into a brief, necessary rest.

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The sedan came to a smooth halt. Opening his eyes, the tinted window rolled down an inch to let the freezing morning air bite into the cabin.

Pushing the heavy door open, he stepped out onto the cracked asphalt as the car immediately pulled away, gliding silently back toward the commercial core.

Caleb stood just outside the heavy iron gates of the Seventh Division base, the transition hitting his senses like a physical blow. The sterile, leather-scented environment of the transport vanished entirely into the sprawling military compound’s smell of diesel exhaust, burnt coolant, and cheap noodles from the open-air food carts.

With dawn just breaking over the industrial skyline, he walked through the security checkpoint and flashed his military tag at a guard who barely looked up from a datapad.

Navigating the crush of early-shift mechanics and off-duty scavengers, Caleb felt the eyes of the lower ranks passing over his dark-gray undersuit. The custom ballistic weave marked him as an earner, though the exhausted slump in his posture marked him as a survivor. The scent of crushed orchids still clung to his collar, cutting straight through the diesel smog.

It stayed on him anyway.

His bruised shoulder throbbed a steady ache. The combat drills loomed ahead.