Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
ARCHER
A rcher leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, eyes locked on the glowing laptop screen. The dossier on Vinnie Molina spread across multiple tabs—recent transactions, known associates, movement patterns. It all pointed to one thing.
Molina was back in business, and more importantly, he was looking for someone.
A muscle in Archer’s jaw flexed as he scanned the latest intelligence feed from Cerberus. The encrypted messages read like a goddamn horror story:
Multiple clubs in the BDSM circuit reporting missing submissives.
Pattern consistent with Master’s Market grooming tactics.
Suspected involvement of Molina.
His gaze flicked to the grainy surveillance still attached to the file—Molina standing outside a bar in Chicago, deep in conversation with a man Archer recognized from past Cerberus ops. An enforcer for the Master’s Market.
Archer exhaled sharply.
This wasn’t just business for Molina. This was personal. His gut twisted. That meant Lanie was in more danger than she knew.
There was a knock on the backdoor of his Greystone, which broke his focus. Archer left the counter of his kitchen island and opened the door, surprised to see Mason.
"Thought I might find you holed up here," Mason drawled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
“Mind telling me what you’re doing coming to my back door?”
“I had some news and thought you’d want to hear it firsthand.”
“How’d you get in?”
“Your security system wasn’t on. You locked the front gate but left the backyard gate unlocked. I let myself in. Like I said, I thought you’d want to know.”
Archer suppressed the desire to groan. Mason was a sleazy pain in the ass, but he often had good intel and, sleazy or not, there was something likable about the guy. “Go ahead.”
“You missed out on a hell of a scene tonight. New sub tried to brat her way out of a scene with Dane. Didn’t end well for her ass—literally."
Archer didn’t bother looking up. "Not interested."
Mason let out a low chuckle, moving toward the fridge and grabbing a beer. "Figured. You’ve been watching her, haven’t you?"
Archer finally met his gaze.
Mason smirked. "Lanie."
Archer went still.
Mason grinned around the lip of his bottle. "I’ve seen you with subs before, but this is different. She gets under your skin, doesn’t she?"
"She’s a potential target," Archer said flatly. "Molina’s name has come up too many times, and now submissives are going missing."
Mason arched a brow. "Right. And that’s the only reason you’re fixated on her?"
Archer didn’t answer.
Because the truth was… he didn’t know anymore.
The first time he met Lanie, she’d been flustered, covered in sugar, and looking at him like she wanted to melt into the floor. Something about that had gotten to him. The fragility mixed with fire. The way she had run, but fought to rebuild herself.
She wasn’t just some submissive. She was his, and that realization was dangerous.
Mason whistled low. "Damn. You’re in deep, aren’t you?"
Archer exhaled, shoving a hand through his hair. "She needs protection, Mason. She doesn’t know what she’s up against."
"And what happens when she does?" Mason leaned back against the counter. "You think she’s gonna just let you take over her life? She’s a survivor, Vaughn. Not some helpless girl playing at being submissive or waiting to be saved."
Archer’s fingers curled into fists. He knew that… he knew that better than anyone.
But the second Molina’s name had entered the picture, Archer had stopped thinking logically. He’d stopped strategizing and started reacting.
That wasn’t who he was. That wasn’t how he operated.
Mason’s gaze sharpened. "What’s the play here, Archer? You gonna tell her?"
Archer exhaled slowly, jaw set. "She’s not ready for that. Not yet."
Mason shook his head. "Then you better figure out how much longer you can keep her in the dark. Because if Molina really is looking for her, she won’t stay safe for long."
Archer didn’t respond. Mason wasn’t wrong, and Archer knew it. It was only a matter of time before the choice was taken from him.
Lanie’s laughter drifted through the club’s lounge, light and unguarded. Archer stood just inside the entrance, watching from a distance as she leaned against the counter, talking to Tessa.
She looked… comfortable. At ease in a way he hadn’t seen before.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to tell her it was a fantasy—a fragile moment of normalcy that was about to be ripped apart.
He forced himself to unclench his fists. She hadn’t known—hadn’t realized that she was standing in the center of a storm. She’d been blissfully unaware that her past was clawing its way back to her.
Archer was about to shatter her illusion of safety. He moved through the crowd with quiet purpose, his presence shifting the air as he approached. Lanie caught sight of him, her lips parting slightly.
Tessa took one look at Archer’s face and muttered something about handling a delivery before slipping away.
Smart woman.
Lanie tilted her head. "You look…"
"Come with me," Archer interrupted.
Her brows knitted together. "What? Why?"
Archer didn’t answer. He simply held out his hand.
Lanie hesitated, then, slowly, she placed her fingers in his. The moment their skin touched, a slow pulse of awareness rolled between them. He could feel her breath quicken. Could see the flush creeping up her neck, but she didn’t pull away.
He led her through the club, past the curious stares, past the murmur of speculation. He didn’t stop until they were in one of the privacy rooms, the heavy door clicking shut behind them.
Lanie crossed her arms. "Archer, what’s going on? You’re scaring me."
He didn’t answer right away. He just looked at her, taking in the soft uncertainty in her eyes, the way she curled in on herself slightly, as if bracing for bad news.
"You trust me?" His voice was low, steady.
Lanie blinked. "I… yeah."
"Good," Archer murmured. "Because I need you to do exactly what I say from now on."
A shadow crossed her face. "What do you mean?"
Archer took a step closer. "Vinnie Molina has resurfaced here in Chicago and word is, he’s looking for you."
Her breath caught. Archer saw it—the flicker of panic before she slammed the wall back into place.
"You don’t know that," she said, her voice tight. “How do you know I know him?”
Archer let out a slow breath. "I kept thinking you looked familiar, but couldn’t figure out where I’d seen you. I was looking at some files associated with the trafficking team. You were listed on the dark web as being available for discerning out of the country buyers. My sister is one of the ones they’ve abducted…”
“Oh my God, Archer, I’m so sorry, but I don’t know anything.”
He reached out to cup her face, and instinctively she rubbed her cheek against his palm. “I know that, sweet girl. Right now, what I need is for you to stop pretending you’re safe. That’s what Meri thought, and she wasn’t."
Lanie shook her head, stepping back. "But he let me go. He…"
"He didn’t," Archer cut in. "He was biding his time. And now, he’s back."
Lanie’s hands trembled. She clenched them into fists. "How do you know this?"
"Because I make it my business to know," Archer said. "And because Cerberus has been tracking him and the others behind the Master’s Market."
Lanie exhaled sharply, turning away. "This isn’t happening," she muttered. "I left. I ran. He wasn’t supposed to…"
Archer was behind her before she could finish, his hands bracketing her hips, holding her still.
"You’re not alone this time," he murmured, voice rough. "You don’t have to run. Cerberus will protect you… I will protect you."
She swallowed hard.
Archer leaned in, his breath a warm whisper against her ear. "But you have to listen to me. You have to obey."
A shudder ran through her.
He tightened his grip. "You’re mine to protect now, Lanie," he said, his voice pure authority. "And I don’t let what’s mine get taken."
Lanie turned slightly, looking up at him, her eyes dark with something more than fear.
Desire. Heat. Something deeper than either of them was ready for.
Archer held her gaze, his own pulse kicking up. He should step back, set boundaries, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out, trailing his fingers down her arm, his touch deliberate, possessive.
"You think you can follow my rules, little one?"
Lanie swallowed, her breath uneven. Then, after a long pause, she whispered, "Yes, Daddy."
And just like that, the game had changed—for both of them. No one had ever called him ‘daddy’ before.
Archer was halfway through his bourbon when Logan’s voice crackled in his earpiece.
“Archer, you near the kitchen?”
He straightened, instantly alert. “Why?”
“Lanie’s in the breakroom. Crying.”
Archer was already moving. He didn’t respond, didn’t ask why Logan had called him instead of handling it himself. He knew why.
Because Archer was the only one Lanie would let close.
The moment he pushed through the door, he saw her. Lanie sat curled on the worn leather couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them like she could make herself smaller. Her phone lay face-up beside her, the screen dark now, but the damage had already been done.
She flinched when she saw him, then quickly wiped at her face, trying to pretend he hadn’t just caught her falling apart.
Archer didn’t say a word. He walked across the room, picked up her phone, and turned it on. The message was still there.
I see you. You can’t hide forever, baby.
His grip on the device tightened, fury burning through his veins like wildfire. He was going to kill Molina.
“Did you respond?” he asked, voice low.
Lanie shook her head, her breath unsteady. “No. I turned it off. I thought…” She swallowed hard. “I thought if I ignored it, he’d stop.”
Archer exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. “He won’t.”
Her lower lip trembled. And damn it, that was all it took.
Archer sank onto the couch beside her, lifting a hand to her chin. “Eyes on me, little one.”
She hesitated, then obeyed. That was trust. Not complete, but enough for now.
“I need you to listen,” he said, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re not alone in this. You don’t have to fight him on your own.”
Her breath hitched. “But I don’t want to be a problem…”
Archer’s jaw clenched. “You’re not.”
She looked away. Archer let go of her chin and slid a hand beneath her knees, another behind her back, lifting her into his lap before she could protest. She gasped, stiffening.
“Archer…”
“Hush,” he murmured, holding her close. “You need this. Let me give it to you.”
She let out a shaky breath. “You don’t have to…”
“I take care of what’s mine.”
The words hung between them, leaving little space for air. Lanie inhaled sharply, and when she finally relaxed, he knew she’d stopped fighting it. Archer ran a slow hand up and down her back, soothing, steady. Her body was warm against his, soft where he was hard, fragile where he was unyielding.
She wasn’t just any sub; she was his. The realization sank deep, a permanent mark on his soul.
“Molina doesn’t get to scare you,” Archer murmured against her temple. “Not while I’m here.”
Her fingers curled into his shirt. “I don’t know how to stop being afraid.”
“You don’t have to.” Archer pressed a firm kiss to her hair, his voice raw with promise. “That’s my job.”
Archer held her close for a long moment, letting the quiet between them settle. He could feel the steady rhythm of her breath against him, the faint tremor still lingering in her limbs. She wasn’t ready to talk yet, and that was fine. He could be patient.
But patience didn’t mean inaction.
With one last reassuring squeeze, he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Come on, little one,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “Time to go.”
She nodded, her fingers untangling from his shirt, and without another word, he guided her toward the exit.
Archer kept a firm hand on Lanie’s lower back as he guided her through the rear entrance and down into the secure parking lot. The evening air was crisp, bordering on frigid.
“You’re not taking the bus home,” he stated.
Lanie stiffened. “I don’t…”
“Not a debate,” Archer cut in.
She exhaled, shaking her head. “You’re overreacting.”
Archer stopped, turning her to face him. “Someone associated with a known trafficking ring just threatened you. If you think I’m going to let you walk out of here alone, you don’t know me at all.”
Her breath stuttered. “I…”
“Get in the Range Rover, Lanie.”
There was no room for argument.
Her lips parted slightly, but she obeyed, slipping into the passenger seat of his sleek black SUV. Archer shut the door behind her, then rounded to the driver’s side, sliding in with controlled precision.
The moment the doors closed, the energy inside the vehicle changed.
Confined. Intimate. Charged.
Lanie fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her bare thigh shifting against the leather seat. Archer’s gaze flickered down, his fingers tightening around the wheel.
“Seatbelt.”
She startled slightly before reaching for it. He caught the strap before she could pull it across her body, his knuckles grazing her collarbone as he clicked it into place himself.
Lanie’s breath hitched.
“Archer…”
He tilted her chin up, making sure she saw exactly what she did to him. “Do you want to test me, little one?”
Her pupils dilated. “No, Sir.”
Damn right.
Archer let go and started the engine, forcing himself to focus. The drive was silent, the air thick with something neither of them dared name. When he pulled up in front of her apartment, Lanie shifted, clearly unsure how to break the moment between them.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Archer reached across her, popping open the glove compartment. “Take this.”
She frowned as he handed her a small, sleek phone. “What’s this?”
“A secured line,” he said. “Molina won’t be able to trace it.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “You really think he’s that close?”
Archer’s voice was steel. “I know he is.”
Lanie exhaled. “What if I don’t want to live in fear?”
Archer leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Then let me handle it.”
She shivered. “That’s not fair.”
“Nothing about this is fair,” Archer murmured, his fingers trailing up her arm, slow and deliberate. “But I protect what’s mine. And right now, you’re mine.”
Her lips parted, but he didn’t give her the chance to argue.
“Inside,” he ordered.
Lanie hesitated, then nodded, slipping out of the car without another word.
Archer watched her run up the steps, use her key to open the outer door and disappear inside.
Then, with calculated precision, he pulled out his phone.
“Reyna.”
A beat. Then a sharp, alert voice answered. “Yeah?”
“I need eyes on Lanie’s place.”
Another pause. “You expecting trouble?”
Archer’s jaw tightened. “It’s already here.”
Reyna exhaled. “Got it. I’ll post up nearby.”
Archer ended the call.
Molina was getting closer.
And Archer was about to make sure he never got close enough.