CHAPTER 1

Evan's POV

“Gosh, classes were so hard. Don’t you think, Evan? Wanna eat together?” my friend Henry asked.

“No, I can’t today. I’ve got something else. Bye.”

With that, I left. My life wasn’t like that of other boys. I wasn’t even allowed to live in the dorms. Instead, I had an apartment of my own—bought for me by him.

Losif. The most feared name in the mafia and drug trade. And the man who was madly in love with me.

Even though he was just a man like me, everything felt different. I wasn’t muscular or tall. I was thin, short, and with my fair skin and baby face, people often mistook me for a girl.

It was Losif who gave me this apartment. He even traveled from his city every night just to see me.

I was about to catch a taxi when a black car pulled up in front of me. I didn’t need to ask whose it was.

His men were always around, always watching. They came to pick me up whether I wanted it or not. Refusing was never an option.

I climbed into the car. After a while, the driver stopped at my building, and I went up to my apartment.

After eating and taking a shower, I lay down on the bed and quickly drifted to sleep.

But the sound of the door opening jolted me awake. I froze, realizing I must have dozed off. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. Quickly, I turned to my side, shutting my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

The door creaked, followed by slow footsteps. The mattress dipped as he got into bed behind me.

His breathing grew heavy against my ear.

An arm slid around my waist. I already knew what was coming. He never missed a night. Whether I was awake or not, he would always touch me. Tonight was no different.

His lips brushed the back of my neck, kissing, inhaling. His hand slid beneath my shirt, fingertips pressing against bare skin as they moved slowly upward. His lips grazed the side of my neck, teeth scraping lightly, and I bit back a sound.

When his hand reached my chest, he pinched softly, making me shiver.

“Haah… hamster,” he murmured before flipping me onto my back.

My eyes flew open. He was smirking down at me.

“Hamster… you were awake?”

“I-I… just—” The words caught in my throat.

He loosened his tie, tossed it aside, then shrugged off his coat. Sitting astride me, he grabbed my hand and pressed it to his chest.

“Open my clothes, hamster.”

My throat tightened. Me? But…

“I…” I clenched my eyes shut.

“Hamster, didn’t you hear me? Or are you pretending not to?” His voice turned sharp, and I flinched.

I couldn’t disobey. My hand reached up, but I couldn’t reach him properly.

He pulled me up onto his lap, forcing my hands against his chest. His eyes bore into mine, and I knew I had no choice. With trembling fingers, I started unbuttoning his shirt.

He leaned forward, pressing his face against my shoulder. His lips began to trail along my neck, hot and relentless, while my hands fumbled with the buttons.

At last, his shirt came undone.

“Sir…” I whispered.

He stilled, his gaze hardening.

“Call me Losif. Not sir.”

“O-Okay… Losif.”

“Again.”

“…Losif.”

His smirk deepened as he pushed me back down against the mattress. What followed was the same as always—hours that blurred together, filled with his unyielding touch until exhaustion finally claimed him.

When he fell asleep beside me, I slipped into the bathroom to clean up. Returning, I lay down next to him again.

Tomorrow was the weekend, at least. I could sleep in.

Before my eyes fully closed, he pulled me into his arms. My body stiffened, but I didn’t resist. I never could. Running wasn’t an option. Not with a man like him.

Losif wasn’t just in love. He was obsessed. And I was trapped.

My whole body ached, and I could already feel him hard again, his member pressing insistently against me.

I tried to ignore it and shut my eyes, but just then he slid down and slipped into my arms.

He used to be the nightmare of my life, but things have changed. I don’t feel as much fear around him anymore, and maybe… he has changed a little too.

When I look back, I realize I can never forget everything that happened to me all these years. I lost so much, and because of him, I sacrificed even more. Yet in the end, I discovered that deep inside, he was only longing for love.

I closed my eyes, staring at the ceiling, while he nuzzled his face against my chest, mumbling something under his breath.

"Don’t ever leave me," he murmured, and I flinched at the sound of his voice.

Wait—was he awake? But after a few minutes, he fell silent and didn’t say anything more. So, he really had been talking in his sleep. I drifted off not long after.

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