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chapter 4

Author: KattyKatt
last update publish date: 2026-02-27 14:06:50

POV: Killian Blackwood

From the podium, I could see her. She was pale, shrinking into her seat, trying to be invisible while the whispers of her classmates stabbed at her. Poor little bird. She didn't understand that, in my world, invisibility is a luxury she lost the moment I let my tongue travel across her skin.

She didn’t know it, but our "chance" encounter was the climax of a long-term siege. I knew exactly where she would go when her world fell apart, and I was there—a shadow in the corner of the bar—watching the Sterling heiress crumble under the weight of a betrayal I had seen coming from miles away.

I knew exactly who she was. I knew her father, that coward who called himself a businessman, had dug his own financial grave by betting what he didn't have.

I had even breached the systems of Saint Jude University to steal her academic records, only to pull the strings and have her transferred to Northridge Academy of Law.

Everything was a calculated move; I had been hunting my prey for twelve months, waiting for the perfect alignment of the stars to finally trap her in my world.

The opportunity to break the will of the Sterling heiress was a pleasure I had no intention of delegating. But as I watched her, the mind link with my Beta opened.

"Speak," I ordered.

"The Russian mafia men are prowling sector four, Alpha," Caleb's voice was tense. "They think they can intercept the shipment before it reaches the warehouse."

I glanced at Ivy, who was swaying gently in the passenger seat, lost in her own hell.

"Tell them that if they touch a single screw on my crates, their families won't have a body to bury," I replied without blinking. "I will be there tonight to oversee the delivery personally."

"Understood. By the way... I see the Sterling piece is already in your possession. Good luck with your plan, my Alpha. Make it worth it."

I didn't respond; I closed the mind link and turned my gaze back to Ivy. I couldn't deny it: she was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at, a beauty that screamed trouble.

I didn't believe in fated mates; I believed in conquest, power, and ownership. And she was about to be conquered by the man her father feared most.

I could admire her all night, but instinctively my eyes landed on my briefcase, where a dark brown folder waited. I caught a glimpse of the label: IVY STERLING - ASSET 01. She was the key, and she was walking straight into my trap.

What a delicious irony.

But at that moment, I turned my gaze back to the students; I wasn't the only one reacting to her presence.

To her right, the pup, Mark Richards, was on the verge of a breakdown. I could feel his hostility—that wounded mate instinct screaming that I was an intruder in his toy territory.

“Right,” I said, my voice cutting through the murmurs like an axe. “Let’s start with something basic. The concept of Ownership and Possession. Mr. Richards, since you seem so eager to participate, enlighten us. When is a bond considered inalienable?”

Mark stood up in a jump. The hatred in his eyes was almost picturesque. “A bond is inalienable when there is a pre-existing natural right, professor,” he spat the word like it was poison. “Fate and natural law are above any commercial contract.”

A frigid smile curved my lips. I walked toward him, stopping millimeters from his personal space. I was taller than him, broader, and my Alpha aura hit him like an iron mace, crushing his small Beta-pup ego.

“How romantic, Mr. Richards. But the law doesn't feed on feelings or fates.” I turned toward the class, but my eyes locked onto Ivy. “In the real world, if an owner neglects his property, if he allows it to deteriorate or to seek refuge in more capable hands... that natural right is extinguished. Isn't that right, Miss Sterling?”

Ivy looked down, her white knuckles clutching her pen as if it were her only anchor to reality. Mark growled, a guttural sound that made several students draw back.

“That’s theft!” Mark exclaimed, his voice cracking with rage. “You talk about people as if they were assets on a spreadsheet.”

“Because they are,” I replied with lethal calm. “Everything has a price. Loyalty, honor... even the future. For example, let’s talk about foreclosures.”

I paced in front of Ivy’s row, letting the scent of my cologne, sandalwood and expensive tobacco, envelope her, erasing any trace the pup had tried to leave. I wanted my particles to enter her lungs, for her to know that my mark was on her skin and my name in her mind.

“Imagine a man,” I continued, lowering my voice, making it intimate and dangerous. “A man who believes his legacy is secure, but who spends what he doesn't have and puts his house, his family name, and his daughter’s life as collateral to a bank. If that man fails, the bank owner doesn't just keep the bricks. He keeps everything those bricks protect. Every secret, every room... every body.”

I saw the exact moment Ivy understood. Her eyes widened, meeting mine. The panic in her gaze was a caress that made me smile inside. She knew about her father's debts, but she didn't know I was the bank. I was the owner of the rope circling her family’s neck.

“Any comments, Miss Sterling? Or do you believe fate will save that man from the streat?”

“It’s... it’s a cruelty,” she whispered, her voice trembling with contained rage.

“It is corporate justice. The weak yield to the strong. It’s the only law that matters. Mr. Richards here believes blood claims are enough, but...” I approached Mark again, lowering my voice so only he and Ivy could hear, “...money buys blood.”

Mark tried to respond, but he choked on his own bile. I had humiliated him not just intellectually, but I had reminded him of his impotence. He was a student; I was the man who could erase his future with a phone call.

“Sit down, Richards. Your arguments are as poor as your graduation prospects,” I said, turning my back on him like someone discarding trash.

The rest of the class passed in a tense silence.

When the bell announced the end of the session, the classroom emptied in record time, except for three people. Mark remained standing, looking at Ivy with a mix of plea and toxic possessiveness. Ivy was trying to pack her things with hands that wouldn't stop shaking.

I walked toward my desk and closed my leather briefcase with a dry snap that echoed like a gunshot.

“Ivy, come with me,” Mark pleaded, ignoring me. “We need to talk about the bond, I... I can explain the thing with Sienna... it was an instinctual mistake, you are my mate.”

Ivy looked at him, wanting to say something, but before she could intervene, my voice dropped an octave that made the air vibrate. “She isn’t going anywhere. She has obligations to fulfill.”

I approached Ivy. She stood up, her breathing heavy. I could see the trace of a pitty she refused to let fall. She was so beautiful in her despair that I had to fight the urge to claim her right there, on the table where I just gave my first lesson in power.

“Miss Sterling,” I said, my voice regaining that professional coldness that was a mask for my obsession. “To my office. Now…”

Ivy looked at me with pure hatred, but beneath that hate, I saw the spark of submission that had been born last night. She knew she had no choice.

“Go, Mark,” she said, in a voice that didn't sound like hers.

Mark threw me a look of murderous hatred before storming out of the classroom, slamming the door so it echoed like a hollow sound of his defeat.

I was left alone with her. The silence was dense. I looked her up and down, a smile forming on my lips when I noticed the small mark peeking out from her neck. That mark my lips had left after a night of lust.

“You’re a monster,” she replied, clutching her notebook to her chest like a shield.

“Perhaps,” I smiled, a predatory grin that didn't reach my eyes. “But I’m the monster who has the keys to your house and the contract to your soul. Walk, little bird, I have an exclusivity contract you need to sign if you don't want to see your father on the street before nightfall.”

She took the first step toward the door, and I followed her, watching the movement of her hips, knowing that behind those doors, today’s lesson would become much more private and unforgetable.

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