**Chapter 1: The Gift of Control**
Tyler lounged on the velvet chaise in his sprawling bedroom, one leg slung over the armrest, a smirk playing on his lips as he scrolled through his phone. The room screamed money—marble floors, a chandelier that cost more than most people’s cars, and a view of the estate’s manicured gardens that could make anyone jealous. Not that Tyler cared. He didn’t care about much, except maybe himself. At sixteen, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and stupidly good-looking, with sharp cheekbones and icy blue eyes that could cut through anyone who dared to cross him. And cross him, they did not.
The door creaked open, and in shuffled Andrew, the ‘gift’ his mother had so gleefully presented to him just hours ago for his birthday. A scrawny kid, barely fifteen, with features so delicate they could’ve been painted on—big, pouty lips, long lashes framing wide, pretty eyes, and cheeks that flushed pink at the slightest provocation. He looked like a damn doll, and Tyler hated how much it pissed him off to notice. Andrew stood there, arms crossed, his jaw tight, clearly trying to hide the embarrassment of being… well, bought.
“So, you’re the new toy,” Tyler drawled, not even bothering to look up from his phone. His voice was cold, dripping with disdain. “What’s your deal, princess? You gonna cry if I’m mean to you?”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed, his short temper flaring instantly. “Call me princess one more time, and I’ll shove that phone so far up your ass you’ll be texting with your colon,” he snapped, his voice sharp despite the slight tremble in it. He hated how his soft features made people underestimate him, but he wasn’t about to let this spoiled jerk walk all over him.
Tyler finally looked up, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face. He tossed the phone aside and stood, towering over Andrew with an air of effortless dominance. “Oh, you’ve got a mouth on you. Cute. But let’s get one thing straight—I own you now. Mom paid good money for your sorry ass, so you do what I say, when I say it. Got it?”
Andrew stepped closer, refusing to back down despite the height difference. His pretty eyes flashed with defiance. “I’m not your damn pet, Tyler. You might be a rich brat, but I’m not some pushover you can bark orders at. Try me.”
Tyler’s grin widened, a flicker of something dark and intrigued sparking in his gaze. He liked a challenge, and this kid was practically begging to be broken. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a low, taunting whisper. “Oh, I’m gonna try you, alright. Let’s see how long that fire lasts when I’ve got you begging for mercy.”
Andrew’s cheeks flushed deeper, but not from embarrassment this time. Anger—and something else—burned in his chest. “Dream on, asshole. I don’t beg for anyone, especially not a cocky jerk like you.”
Tyler chuckled, stepping even closer, the heat of his body almost tangible. “We’ll see about that. I’ve got all the time in the world to play with my new toy.” His eyes raked over Andrew, lingering on those full lips, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with something raw and unspoken. Tyler’s smirk turned predatory. “Strip. Now. Let’s see what I’m working with.”
Andrew’s breath hitched, but his glare didn’t waver. “Make me,” he shot back, his voice dripping with challenge, even as his heart pounded in his chest.
Tyler’s hand shot out, grabbing Andrew’s chin with a firm grip, tilting his face up. “Oh, I will,” he murmured, his voice a dangerous promise. Their faces were inches apart now, tension thick and electric. Andrew’s lips parted slightly, his defiance warring with the heat pooling in his gut. Tyler’s thumb brushed over that pouty bottom lip, and the room seemed to shrink around them, the promise of something explosive hanging in the air.
It was only a matter of time before one of them snapped—and when they did, it would be a wildfire neither could control.
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