"Are you sure, little bird?"

His deep voice seemed to travel through the chain between my wrist and his collar, resonating in my bones.

I didn't flinch. I held his dark, intense gaze.

"I don't make mistakes," I said.

"You bitch!" Diana's shriek broke the silence. She stamped one foot, her face contorted with fury. "Guards! Shoot him! Arrest her!"

The two guards exchanged nervous glances. They lowered their stun batons instead of raising them. Nobody wanted to mess with a gladiator who snapped iron with his bare hands.

I turned my back on Rowan and snatched the secondary clipboard from the trembling handler.

"Here," I said, shoving the plastic board hard against Diana's collarbone.

She stumbled back, clutching the paperwork. "What is this?"

"The contract for the mute," I replied, pointing at Kael. "Since you're so desperate for a stray, he's all yours."

Diana threw the clipboard onto the concrete. The plastic shattered, scattering papers across the dirty floor. "I don't want that pathetic runt! I want the champion!"

"Too late. I paid. He's mine." I snapped my fingers at the handler. "Bring me a medical kit. Now."

"You can't do this!" Diana screamed, stepping toward me.

Rowan shifted his imposing frame. He didn't raise a hand, but his sheer size blocked her path. Diana froze, shrinking back from the raw violence radiating from him.

The greasy handler scrambled to a metal cabinet and produced a white plastic box, shoving it into my hands before scurrying away to hide behind his desk.

I popped the latch and pulled out a bottle of iodine and a stack of gauze.

Kael dragged himself closer, coughing weakly. He kept his eyes locked on my hands, waiting for me to kneel beside him. He expected me to coddle him, to wipe the dirt from his cheeks and whisper soft promises.

Instead, I stepped right over his outstretched fingers and moved to Rowan.

"Look down," I ordered the giant.

Rowan complied, tilting his chin.

I poured the dark brown iodine directly onto the raw, bleeding gashes across his massive chest. He didn't blink. He didn't even twitch.

"Does this hurt?" I asked, watching his stoic expression.

"I have felt worse," Rowan replied.

"Hold this," I told him, pressing a thick pad of gauze over a particularly deep cut near his shoulder.

My fingers brushed against his hot, sweat-slicked skin. I let my hand linger there, smearing the mixture of blood and antiseptic across my own palm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Kael.

In my past life, Kael possessed a crippling fear of germs. He despised dirt, loathed bodily fluids, and threw violent tantrums if I touched him without scrubbing my hands raw first. I used to think it was a trauma response. Later, I learned he just found me repulsive.

I dragged my bloodied fingers along Rowan's collarbone, making a show of the physical contact.

"You heal fast," I said to Rowan, my voice carrying in the quiet room.

Kael's pathetic facade cracked. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek. He flinched away from the sight, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the dirty floor. A vicious flare of jealousy burned in his eyes, shattering the innocent-victim act.

He hated seeing me touch someone else. He hated losing control of his favorite pawn.

I dropped the empty iodine bottle onto the floor. It rolled right against Kael's knee.

"You're making a massive mistake, Elara!" Diana yelled. "Father will cut off your accounts for this!"

"Let him try," I said. "He needs my signature to access the trust."

Diana scoffed, crossing her arms. "You think you're so smart. You just wasted two million on a brute who will probably snap your neck in your sleep."

"If he snaps my neck, I won't have to listen to your voice anymore. It's a win-win."

Diana's mouth opened and closed like a fish. She had no comeback for that.

I tugged lightly on the chain connecting me to Rowan.

"Let's go," I told him.

"Where are we going?" Rowan asked, matching my stride.

"Home."

I didn't look back at Diana's screaming or Kael's silent, furious trembling.

Forty minutes after leaving the underground market, my driver navigated the armored SUV through the winding roads leading to my private estate.

The interior of the vehicle smelled of expensive leather and now, copper and sweat.

Rowan sat beside me on the plush seat, his broad frame making the spacious vehicle feel cramped. The short chain forced us close, our thighs nearly touching.

"You bleed on the upholstery, you clean it," I told him.

Rowan turned his head slowly. "You care more about your seats than your investment?"

"My seats don't talk back."

He let out a low sound, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. "You bought a gladiator, little bird. Not a servant."

"Stop calling me that."

"Calling you what?"

"Little bird." I glared at him. "My name is Elara."

"You look like a bird," Rowan said, his gaze dropping to my pristine white blouse. "Fragile. Easy to crush."

"Try it," I challenged.

Rowan leaned in closer. The metallic scent of his blood filled my nose. "I do not crush things that buy my freedom."

"I didn't buy your freedom. I bought your contract."

"Same thing." He leaned back against the headrest. "For now."

The oak doors of the manor swung open as we approached the entrance.

"Welcome back, Miss Elara," my head butler, Thomas, said. He stopped short, his eyes widening at the towering, bloody man chained to my wrist.

"Wait in the foyer, Thomas," I ordered. "Bring clean clothes for my new guard. Largest size we have."

"Right away, Miss," Thomas stammered, bowing quickly.

I pulled Rowan down the long, dimly lit hallway and into my father's old study.

I locked the mahogany door behind us so no servant could interrupt.

"Sit," I said, pointing to a large leather armchair near the fireplace.

Rowan remained standing. He surveyed the room, his dark eyes scanning the bookshelves, the heavy curtains, and the locked windows. Assessing threats.

"I gave you an order," I reminded him.

"I prefer to stand," Rowan rumbled. He reached up, gripping the torn, blood-soaked remnants of his fighting tunic. "I need to remove this."

"Go ahead."

I turned away from him and walked toward the hidden wall safe behind my father's portrait. I needed to secure the auction transfer deeds immediately.

"You do not fear me," Rowan stated. It wasn't a question.

"Should I?" I asked, keeping my back to him.

"I killed three men in the pit tonight."

"I bought you to kill my enemies," I replied smoothly. "Three is a good start."

"You have many enemies?" Rowan asked.

"More than you can count."

"I can count very high."

"Good. You'll need the math skills."

I spun the heavy brass dial on the safe. The familiar clicks echoed in the quiet room.

Thirty-two. Left to fourteen. Right to fifty.

The heavy steel door popped open.

Behind me, the sound of ripping fabric filled the room as Rowan tore the ruined shirt from his shoulders.

Metal struck hardwood with a sharp clink.

I paused, my hand hovering over the open safe.

"You dropped something," I said, glancing over my shoulder.

Rowan stood bare-chested, his dark eyes unreadable. He made no move to pick up the object near his combat boots.

"It is nothing," he said, his voice dangerously even.

I stepped away from the safe and crouched down near his feet.

A solid-gold crest lay on the polished floor.

I reached out and flipped it over.

A three-headed hound wrapped in thorny vines was engraved deeply into the metal.

The mark of the underworld empire.

I closed my hand around the gold crest and let its cold edge bite into my palm.

"You dropped this," I said, slipping the coin into my trouser pocket.

Rowan didn't blink. His massive chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. "I drop many things."

"Not things stamped with a three-headed hound."

"You recognize the mark."

"Everyone in the underworld recognizes the Cerberus syndicate," I countered. "The real question is why a pit fighter carries their gold."

Rowan stepped closer. The chain between us rattled. "A smart bird does not ask questions about the hounds."

"Good thing I'm not a bird."

A hard knock on the mahogany door cut off his reply.

"Miss Elara!" Thomas called from the hallway, his voice tight with panic. "Your sister is here. She stormed the front gates."

I sighed, stepping away from the safe. "Diana never learns."

"She brought the other one," Thomas added through the wood. "The boy from the market. They are making a mess of the main hall."

I glanced at the steel chain connecting my left wrist to Rowan's thick iron collar. "Put your shirt back on," I ordered the gladiator.

Rowan grabbed the torn, bloody fabric from the floor and draped it over his broad shoulders without fastening it.

I unlocked the study door and pulled him into the corridor. We walked in tandem toward the grand foyer.

Diana stood in the center of the imported marble floor, screaming at a maid.

"Clean it up! He's bleeding all over the Persian rug!" she shrieked.

Kael knelt at her feet. His blond hair stuck to his forehead in sweaty clumps. He swayed, coughing weakly into his hands. A fresh purple bruise bloomed along his jawline, a clear sign Diana had taken her auction frustration out on him during the ride over.

"What do you want, Diana?" I asked.

Diana spun around. Her eyes darted from my face to the towering giant chained to my wrist. She took a quick step back, nearly tripping over Kael's leg.

"He's entirely useless!" Diana yelled, pointing a manicured finger at the boy. "He won't speak. He won't stand up straight. He threw up in my car!"

"Sounds like buyer's remorse." I walked to the sitting area and sank into a velvet armchair. Rowan stood directly behind me, the chain pulling taut.

Thomas hurried forward with a silver tray, placing a steaming porcelain teacup on the side table. I picked it up, letting the floral aroma fill the space between us.

"I demand you trade with me," Diana said, marching closer. "Father gave me the budget for a champion. You manipulated the auctioneer."

"I paid cash," I corrected, taking a sip. "You brought a plastic card to an underground fighting ring. That's your own stupidity."

"You planned this!" Diana stomped her foot, her expensive shoe digging into the rug. "You knew they wouldn't take my card. You embarrassed me in front of the entire syndicate."

"You embarrass yourself just fine without my help."

"Give him to me." Diana pointed at Rowan. "He belongs in the main estate. Father needs him for the border disputes."

"Father can buy his own muscle."

Diana scowled, her face turning an ugly shade of red. "You are just a bastard daughter, Elara. You think buying one heavy hitter makes you a boss?"

I lowered my cup. The porcelain clinked sharply against the saucer.

"It makes me the owner of a two-million-dollar asset," I said softly. "Which is two million more than you have."

Kael shifted his weight. He dragged himself an inch closer to my chair, his wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto mine. He pressed his bruised hands together, silently begging.

I took another sip of tea. I didn't even blink.

"Look at him!" Diana huffed, kicking Kael's hip. "He's pathetic. He's looking at you because you always pick up trash. Just take him and give me the brute."

"Rowan is not for trade," I said.

Kael's jaw tightened. The mention of the giant's name made a muscle feather in his cheek. He hated being ignored. In my past life, a single tear from him would have me firing staff and burning down buildings. Now, he was just a stain on my floor.

Thomas stepped forward, offering Kael a glass of water from the silver tray. "Perhaps the boy needs hydration, Miss Diana."

Diana slapped the tray. "He doesn't get water until he walks properly!"

The tray tipped. Kael lunged forward, catching the heavy crystal glass before it fell. His reflexes were surprisingly fast for a half-dead slave.

He held the glass in both hands, his knuckles white.

Then, he locked eyes with me and opened his fingers.

The crystal plummeted toward the table's edge, directly above my bare ankles.

Before the glass could shatter against my skin, Rowan moved.

The giant stepped forward, his heavy combat boot sweeping over my feet. The crystal smashed against the thick leather of his footwear, sending sharp shards flying across the carpet. Not a single piece touched me.

Rowan didn't flinch. He planted his foot over the broken glass, his body shielding my legs.

"Mind your hands, boy," Rowan growled, his voice a low, vibrating threat.

Kael recoiled, throwing his arms over his head in a perfect display of mock terror. He let out a high-pitched whimper, burying his face in the rug.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Diana screamed. "He can't even hold a glass of water! Elara, I am leaving him here. I will tell Father you stole my gladiator."

"Tell him," I said, setting my teacup down. "But you're taking your purchase with you."

"I refuse!" Diana crossed her arms. "I am staying right here until you transfer ownership."

I looked at the two armed estate guards standing near the front doors. "Escort my sister out. If she leaves the boy behind, throw him over the front gate."

"You wouldn't dare," Diana hissed.

"I'd throw you over the gate too, but you're too heavy," I replied flatly.

Rowan let out a low, rumbling grunt behind me. It sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Diana's eyes widened in outrage. "You let this animal laugh at me?"

"Guards," I snapped. "Now."

One guard grabbed Diana's arm, ignoring her furious shrieks. The other hauled Kael up by the back of his dirty collar.

Kael twisted in the guard's grip. He reached out toward me, his lips parting in a silent scream. Tears streamed down his face, a flawless picture of a broken, desperate victim.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. "Take your dog and leave, Diana."

"You'll pay for this, Elara!" Diana's voice echoed through the grand hall as the guards dragged them out the oak doors.

The doors slammed shut, plunging the foyer into sudden quiet.

"Thomas," I said, staring at the closed doors. "Sweep up the glass."

"Right away, Miss Elara."

I stood up, the chain pulling against Rowan's collar. "Come with me."

I led the gladiator down the side corridor, stepping into the dim parlor that overlooked the front courtyard. Heavy velvet drapes framed the large bay window. I unlatched the brass lock and pushed the glass open an inch, letting the cool evening air slip into the room.

Outside, the guards shoved Diana and Kael past the iron security gates and locked them.

Diana stumbled onto the cobblestone street. She spun around, her face twisted in rage, and slapped Kael hard across the cheek.

"Get up, you useless freak!" she screamed. "Walk!"

Kael fell to his knees on the pavement. He kept his head bowed.

"He plays the victim well," Rowan rumbled from behind me.

"He's a parasite," I replied, keeping my eyes on the scene outside. "He feeds on pity."

Diana raised her hand to strike him again. "I said move!"

Kael didn't cower this time.

His hand shot up. His fingers clamped around Diana's wrist, stopping her slap mid-air.

Diana froze.

Kael stood up slowly. The trembling, pathetic boy from the auction vanished. His posture straightened, his shoulders rolling back with aggressive confidence.

He twisted Diana's arm sharply.

Diana dropped to her knees on the cobblestones, her mouth opening in a scream of pain.

Kael leaned over her, his grip tightening until her wrist bent at a sickening angle.

"Do not ever touch me again," Kael snarled, his clear, deep voice slicing right through the open window.