The day was routine—on the surface. Tyrone was in his office reviewing a new acquisition deal, Daniel was at his desk outside, quiet and efficient. The air was charged with the afterglow of the night before, and Daniel carried it with him—skin glowing faintly, a confidence blooming quietly under Tyrone’s attention.
But that balance was about to shatter.
Tyrone looked up from the meeting notes as Ava’s voice came over the intercom.
“Mr. Dominian… there’s someone here to see Daniel. He says it’s urgent. His name is… Marcus Crane.”
The name was unfamiliar to Tyrone—but the effect was immediate.
Daniel froze.
Tyrone didn’t miss it—the slight tremor in his fingers, the flush creeping up his neck.
“Send him up,” Tyrone said calmly, though his eyes were already studying Daniel like a hawk.
Daniel stood before Tyrone could even speak. “Sir, I—I didn’t know he was coming. I haven’t seen Marcus in over a year. He must have—”
Tyrone raised a hand.
“Breathe.”
Daniel swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
The elevator chimed.
When the doors opened, Marcus stepped out like he owned the floor.
He was older than Daniel, maybe mid-thirties, tall and broad-shouldered with the kind of charisma that lingered in a room long after he left. His jaw was cut from granite, and his eyes—sharp, hazel, confident—flicked to Daniel with instant recognition and something else.
Something possessive.
“Daniel,” he said, voice velvet-wrapped steel. “You look good.”
Daniel stood frozen.
Tyrone stepped from his office into the foyer between them.
“And you are?” he asked.
Marcus looked him over—once, slow. “Marcus Crane. I used to… mentor Daniel. Before he came here.”
“Mentor?” Tyrone asked, arching an eyebrow.
Daniel’s breath caught.
Marcus smiled coolly. “We had an arrangement. I taught him discipline. Obedience. He was very good at it.”
There it was.
The challenge.
Tyrone took one step closer, his presence immediately filling the space. Taller, broader, darker, and in every way more dangerous.
“You taught him?” Tyrone repeated. “Then you know how rare it is to break someone like Daniel properly.”
Marcus chuckled. “Oh, he broke. I remember the sounds.”
Tyrone’s voice dipped low. “So do I.”
The air turned electric. Daniel stood between two pasts—one that had once owned him, and one that owned him now.
“I’m here to reconnect,” Marcus continued. “I missed him.”
Tyrone narrowed his eyes. “Daniel is under my protection. And my training. If you want access to him—you’ll need to go through me.”
Marcus’s smirk faded slightly. “And if he wants to see me?”
Tyrone turned to Daniel. “Do you?”
Silence. A long, painful silence.
Then, Daniel looked Tyrone in the eye. “I… don’t know.”
Later That Evening – The Confrontation
Daniel stood barefoot on Tyrone’s balcony as the sun dipped low, casting warm shadows over his bare chest. Tyrone stepped out behind him, drink in hand, watching him silently.
“He trained you before?” Tyrone asked.
Daniel nodded, voice soft. “He was the first person who… understood what I needed.”
“But?”
“He used it for control. Possession. I wasn’t ready to resist. I thought I was safe, but I wasn’t… owned, I was used.”
Tyrone walked up behind him, placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “And now?”
“I feel… seen. I want to belong to you.”
“You do belong to me,” Tyrone said, his voice a growl. “But if Marcus thinks he can walk in and tug on old strings—he’s mistaken.”
Daniel turned. “I need to see him again. Just once. Not alone. I want you there.”
The Power Triangle – Behind Closed Doors
They met in Tyrone’s private lounge.
Marcus lounged on the leather couch, legs stretched, confidence oozing. Daniel knelt between them both—naked but for the ribbon in his hair. He looked up at Marcus first, then Tyrone.
“I don’t want confusion anymore,” he said. “So tonight… I obey the one who earns me.”
Tyrone’s gaze darkened.
Marcus smiled, rolling up his sleeves. “Is that a challenge?”
Tyrone sat beside Marcus, legs spread, dominance radiating from every breath. “It’s a lesson.”
Daniel was ordered to serve them both—refill their drinks, massage their feet, kiss their hands. They issued quiet, testing orders: remove your shirt, kneel here, open your mouth. But it was Tyrone’s voice that Daniel responded to most instinctively—head snapping up at his command, breath catching at his praise.
Marcus noticed.
“You’ve trained him well,” he muttered.
“No,” Tyrone said calmly. “He chose me. There’s a difference.”
As the night wore on, Marcus tried to reclaim him—stroking Daniel’s back, whispering old phrases in his ear. But Daniel flinched.
Then Tyrone’s hand came down firm on Daniel’s thigh, grounding him.
“Eyes on me,” Tyrone ordered.
Daniel obeyed instantly.
That was the final line.
Marcus saw it. Saw the devotion. The surrender. The new loyalty.
He stood, gathering his jacket. “I see I’m no longer needed.”
Tyrone gave a cold nod. “Correct.”
Daniel remained on his knees as Marcus left.
Tyrone stepped closer.
“Whose are you?”
Daniel’s eyes burned with emotion. “Yours. Only yours.”
Tyrone kissed him deeply—fiercely.
Then whispered, “You passed your test.”
Tyrone’s Page