Chapter 11
Kane
I sit in the leather chair of my study, the only light coming from the green banker’s lamp on the desk and the endless glow of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The apartment is quiet except for the low hum of the city far below.
Something inside me stirs, a feeling I cannot ignore.
Then, suddenly, my phone flashes on the polished wood. Padraig….
PADRAIG: Got them. William and his friend. Both safe.
A slow smile spreads across my face. I type back without hesitation…
KANE: Drop the friend at his place. Then bring William straight to me.
I set the phone down and push back from the desk. Energy crackles through my veins as I stand and begin to pace the length of the study. My bare feet are silent on the dark rug.
Outside, the city pulses: neon veins, rivers of headlights, towering buildings full of people living small, safe lives. It looks beautiful from up here. Alive. But I know better. Beneath the lights there is blood, betrayal, and endless hunger.
The same hunger that now burns in me for him.
William.
I stop at the window and press my palm to the cool glass. Making him mine. Truly mine. Not just a sweet Little I can spank in libraries and leave aching with need.
But my boy.
Sleeping in my bed.
Wearing my marks of discipline and kneeling at my feet when the weight of the pakhan title becomes too heavy. The thought both thrills and unsettles me.
Will I still be able to be ruthless?
Can I still be the man who buried two brothers and took their throne? The Young Menace who became something far darker?
Or will softness creep in? Will I hesitate when I need to pull the trigger? Will I put his safety above the family’s survival?
I clench my jaw. No. I refuse to let that happen.
Having William will not weaken me. Far from it, in fact. It will sharpen me. The boy will be the reason I become even more vicious, more calculating, more deadly. Every enemy who threatens what is mine will learn exactly how far I am willing to go.
My revenge for Milo and Loren will burn hotter with William waiting for me at home.
I will protect the boy with the same brutality I use to protect the Kamedov name. He will make me stronger. Not softer.
I walk to the sideboard, pour two fingers of ice-cold vodka, and raise the glass toward the glittering skyline.
“To my boy,” I murmur, then toss it back. The burn feels righteous. I smile at the thought of him arriving here soon… wide-eyed, nervous, already hard for me.
My apartment. My rules. My control.
I pour another shot and savor the anticipation.
* * *
Two hours later the apartment door opens. Padraig gives me a respectful nod and steps back out without a word. The heavy door clicks shut behind him.
It’s just me and William now.
The boy stands in the entrance hallway. His blonde hair is slightly messy from the drive, his eyes huge with fear… and something else. Something he’s trying desperately to hide.
Arousal.
I can see it in the flush on his cheeks, the way his thighs press together and twist to hide his erection, the quick rise and fall of his chest.
I walk toward him slowly, deliberately.
William doesn’t back away, but his breathing quickens.
“Have you been a good boy while you were gone, William?” I ask, voice low.
He swallows. “Yes.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “But…?”
His gaze drops to the floor. “I’ve been a little naughty,” he whispers. “But I don’t want to tell you the details.”
A dark chuckle leaves me. “Oh, you will. I’ll make sure of it.”
I take William’s hand, small and trembling in mine, and lead him from the kitchen area through to the open living room.
The massive floor-to-ceiling windows dominate the space, showing the entire glittering city spread out beneath us like a kingdom at my feet.
I sit down on the wide leather couch facing the view and pat my thigh.
“Over my lap,” I say, my voice low and measured, reassuring almost were it not filled with an underlying menace. “Now.”
William hesitates only a second before he obeys, draping himself across my knees. His soft trousers stretch tight over his ass. I run my palm over the fabric, feeling the warmth of his body, then slowly tug the trousers and his briefs down to his knees in one smooth motion.
The boy’s bare bottom glows pale in the low light, still carrying faint traces of the ruler marks from the library. Perfect.
I bring my hand down hard.
Smack.
William jolts and lets out a small gasp as I feel his cock pressing up against my legs.
“Tell me what you did,” I say calmly, rubbing the spot I just struck.
Another hard smack. Then another.
“I… I came home after the library,” William whimpers. “I was so worked up… I took out my toys… my plug and my dildo…”
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The boy’s voice breaks as I spank him steadily, turning his ass a deeper and deeper shade of red.
The city lights sparkle behind him as he squirms and confesses everything…
how he fucked himself thinking of me, how he gagged on the dildo, how hard he came with the plug stretching his ass and his hand vigorously wanking his cock.
Every filthy detail spills out between yelps and moans until his bottom is blazing hot and he’s crying real tears against the couch cushion.
When William has fully confessed, I rub his sore cheeks gently, feeling the heat radiating off his skin.
“Good boy for telling me,” I murmur. “Now stand up.”
I watch as the boy rises on shaky legs, trousers still around his knees. I turn him to face the huge mirror that hangs on the wall beside the windows—angled so it reflects both him and the city behind him.
“Hands on your head. Eyes on me.”
William obeys, lacing his fingers behind his head. His red, freshly spanked bottom is perfectly displayed in the mirror, the marks vivid against his pale skin. Anyone looking up from the right building might catch a glimpse. The thought makes my cock throb.
I sit back on the couch and watch the boy. There is total submission in his eyes, and his flushed cheeks, but his nipples are hard under his thin top and his dick is pointing skyward, full and thick.
William is terrified. He is ashamed. But he is turned on in ways he could only dream of.
And he has never looked more beautiful.
“Look at yourself,” I tell him softly. “Look how pretty your punished ass is. The whole city could see what a naughty little boy you are… and how much you loved every second of it.”
William’s eyes stay locked on mine in the reflection. Trembling. Aroused. Completely mine.
I lean back, savoring the sight.
He must surely sense what I can sense… this is only the beginning.
* * *
Later that evening the apartment smells of lemongrass, coconut milk, and chili. I ordered enough Thai food to feed four people: green curry, pad Thai, crispy basil beef, spring rolls, and mango sticky rice for dessert.
William sits across from me at the long dining table in the open kitchen. He’s got his top on, but his red bottom is bare against the cool wooden chair, and every time he shifts I catch the tiny wince he tries to hide.
I watch him over the rim of my vodka glass.
He’s beautiful like this—flushed, marked by me, trying so hard to act normal while his punished ass throbs. My cock has been half-hard since the spanking, but right now the feeling in my chest is something quieter. Possessive. Protective.
“You’re wincing every time you move,” I say, setting my glass down. “After dinner I’ll put cooling cream on that pretty ass. I will see to it that you are properly taken care of.”
William’s cheeks turn pink. He pokes at a piece of chicken with his chopsticks.
“Thank you. That would be… really nice.” He bites his lip, then adds softly, “I still can’t believe I confessed all of that to you. All that stuff about my special toys… jeez, I’ve never told anyone anything like that.”
I reach across the table and brush my thumb over the back of William’s hand.
“It’s only natural, little one,” I say. “When a boy belongs to his Daddy, he tells him everything. Even the naughty parts. It might earn him a spanking—” I let my voice drop lower, “—but that’s part of it. Part of being mine… you don’t get to hide. Not from me.”
William shivers visibly. His eyes flick up to meet mine, wide and full of conflicting emotions: embarrassment, arousal, something softer that looks dangerously like trust.
I like it. I like it far too much.
William takes a small bite of curry, then says, “I want to know more about you, Kane. About your life. Who you really are. What you do.”
The question lands like a blade between my ribs.
I shut it down immediately, voice calm but final…
“Not tonight,” I say. “My world is complicated. Dangerous. You don’t need those shadows in your head.” I lean forward slightly. “Tell me about yours instead. Your academic life. The Bronte sisters. All of it.”
William hesitates, clearly wanting to push, but something in my expression makes him decide against it. Smart boy. Instead he starts talking, and once he begins, the words flow like water.
He tells me about his PhD, the endless reading, the pressure to publish, the way nineteenth-century literature makes him feel alive. His eyes light up when he describes the repressed desire in Jane Eyre, the wild passion in Wuthering Heights.
William even admits, almost shyly, that one day he wants to write his own books. Scholarly works that bring those voices to new readers, maybe even a novel of his own someday.
“You’re a smart, determined boy,” I tell him when he finally pauses for breath. “All of that is possible. I see it in you. The fire. The focus. Don’t ever let anyone dull it.”
William smiles, small at first, then wider, genuine. And it hits me somewhere deep. This boy is sassy when he wants to be, brilliant, and he can take a hard spanking without breaking. He’s everything I never knew I needed.
I reach over and give his hand a firm, friendly squeeze.
For a moment the air between us feels electric. Real chemistry. Not just the raw dominance and submission we’ve shared, but something warmer. Something that could grow.
Then my phone vibrates on the table.
I glance at the screen. Padraig…
PADRAIG: One of our soldiers just got shot dead. Ambush near the east docks. Looks like Volkov’s rivals testing boundaries.
A black mood slams into me like a freight train. The smile drops from my face. My jaw tightens so hard I hear my teeth grind. William notices immediately.
“Everything okay?” William asks, his voice small.
I force my expression neutral. “Business. Nothing for you to worry about.” I stand up, already mentally shifting into pakhan mode. “I need to head out shortly. But you’re staying here. That’s Daddy’s Orders. You sleep in my bed tonight. I’ll be back when I can.”
William nods submissively, eyes wide. “Yes, Sir.”
The word “Sir” from his lips soothes the rage just enough to keep me from putting my fist through a wall. I walk around the table, pull him up from his chair, and kiss his forehead.
“Good boy,” I say. “Finish your food. Then I’ll take care of that sore bottom before I leave.”
I spend the next ten minutes rubbing cooling cream into his blazing red ass while he lies face-down on my bed, whimpering softly at every gentle touch. The sight of my handprints on his skin grounds me.
William is mine to protect now.
Mine to punish.
And mine to cherish.
When I finally pull the young man’s briefs back up and tuck him under the covers with Twist beside him, the black mood is still there, but it’s tempered by a purpose I’ve never felt before.
I lean down and brush my lips against his ear.
“Be good while I’m gone,” I whisper. “I expect you right here when I return.”
He nods sleepily, already drifting. “Yes, Daddy.”
I change into a fresh black suit, strap on my holster, and head for the door.
The city waits below… full of blood and opportunity. Tonight someone will pay for touching what belongs to the Kamedov family. And later I’ll come back to my sweet Little waiting obediently in my bed.
Having William doesn’t make me weak.
It makes me unstoppable.