Chapter 26

Master ... is there a playroom in this house?”

Elias’s hand stilled on her back for a brief second. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips.

“Yes, my love. There are a couple.”

Lena’s stomach dropped. Terror, cold and sharp, flooded through her veins. The word “playroom” carried heavy, unspoken shadows — images of restraints, instruments, and pleasures that walked the razor’s edge of pain. Her body tensed in his arms despite herself.

“Can I ... can I see them, Master?” she asked, voice trembling. “Will you take me there?”

“I will eventually,” he replied calmly. “Not now.”

“But why?”

Elias tilted her chin up again, forcing her to meet his eyes. His gaze was dark, patient, and utterly uncompromising.

“Because, my curious little kitten,” he said, his voice a low, velvet caress, “you are not ready for that yet. Not even close.”

Lena stayed quiet for a long moment, summoning her courage, before her voice emerged, soft and trembling. “Master ... I’m not going to get sick or die. I promise you that.”

Elias’s hand froze against her back. The silence that followed was thick, almost sacred. In that instant, she knew she had touched the one raw nerve he guarded so fiercely — his deep, unrelenting terror of losing her.

She continued gently, her words careful. “You don’t have to watch over me so closely. You don’t need to check the readings from the plug every few minutes, or carefully craft everything I eat and drink...”

Elias remained silent, but she felt the subtle tension in his body.

“Master,” she whispered, “will you please stop tracking my body like this?”

He exhaled slowly, then pulled her even closer, tucking her head beneath his chin as if shielding her from her own request.

“No, my love,” he said quietly, his voice low and final. “Your health is not a subject open for negotiation.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to her hair, his tone softening but remaining absolute. “I have held your broken body in my hands once before. I will not take any chances with what is mine. Not now. Not ever.”

Lena was quiet again, nestled against his chest. Then, in a small voice, she asked, “Master?”

“My love, it’s very late,” Elias murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You need to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow. It’s important that you get enough sleep my love. I dont want you exhausted in the operating room.”

“Master, please ... just one question.”

Elias sighed softly, a hint of amusement threading through his tone. “Only one, my little sweetness. Then it’s sleep time for little girls.”

Lena hesitated, then whispered, “Did Liz ... look like me?”

Elias drew in a sharp breath. For a moment, the room felt heavier.

“No, my love,” he said at last, his voice low and steady. “She was very different from you — in every way. Her face, her mind, her personality ... everything. Liz was my sister. You are the love of my eternity. The two of you are nothing alike.”

He stroked her hair gently and continued, “Losing her was a deep tragedy. One I will carry forever. But even if that loss had never happened ... we would still be here, my love. You and I. Exactly like this.”

Lena thought about his words in the quiet that followed. She didn’t entirely like the answer. A quiet unease stirred inside her. Perhaps his fierce, unrelenting control wasn’t just about possession — perhaps it was born from the terror of having once lost control so completely. The thought made her chest tighten.

She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her. Exhaustion finally claimed her, and she drifted into sleep, safe in his arms — even as the shadows of his past and the weight of his love lingered in her dreams.

The next morning, breakfast unfolded as a surprisingly warm and domestic ritual in the sunlit dining room.

Elias had promised her the entire morning was theirs alone— He would take her out.The assurance had left Lena quietly hopeful as she sat at the elegantly arranged table, wearing a modest high-necked silk blouse and a flowing skirt that came to her knees.

Though Elias craved her complete nakedness in the privacy of their bedroom, he was adamantly insistent that she remain fully covered at all other times — even within the walls of the estate. No member of staff, not even the women, was permitted to glimpse so much as an inch of her bare skin. The exquisite platinum collar rested openly around her throat, its subtle elegance and faint diamonds catching the light with every movement, while the rest of her body stayed carefully concealed. Lena was quickly learning just how deeply jealous and possessive her Master truly was.

To the estate’s loyal staff, Elias Voss was nothing short of a savior.

Every single one of them owed him deeply — some their lives, others their family’s security, and many their entire livelihood. He had quietly paid for life-saving surgeries, funded children’s educations, helped struggling relatives, and offered second chances to those society had discarded. Because of this, the staff adored him with genuine, almost familial loyalty.

And yet, when it came to Lena, even they could sense something different. Something deeper.

They noticed how strictly Elias insisted she remain modestly dressed at all times outside their private quarters.

They knew he was deeply possessive of her. That much was impossible to miss. The way his eyes followed her, the subtle tension in his posture whenever she spoke to anyone for too long, the way he would suddenly appear if she lingered in any common area. It was intense, almost reverent possessiveness.

But they couldn’t quite fathom it.

To them, Elias had always been generous and fair. This level of territorial control over one girl felt strangely extreme, almost sacred. Some of the older staff members exchanged knowing glances, suspecting this was Elias’s version of true love: all-consuming and protective. The younger ones simply accepted it as one of their Master’s many eccentricities.

None of them feared him. They loved and respected him too much for that. They simply watched over Lena with a strange mixture of warmth, concern, and quiet awe — this brilliant young surgeon who had somehow become the single most precious thing in their Master’s world.

Across from Elias and Lena during breakfast that morning, sat Clara, as composed and graceful as ever. Lena observed their interaction carefully while sipping her coffee. It was clear Elias held deep, genuine affection for Clara— a steady, protective warmth rooted in long years of trust.

Clara spoke animatedly about her recent trip, her hands gesturing gracefully. “The Alps were stunning this season, Elias. Your mother wishes very much that you would come visit soon. She misses you terribly and keeps saying their house doesn’t feel the same without her son there to fill it with life.”

Elias listened with full attention, refilling Clara’s cup with fresh coffee exactly as she liked it. “I’m glad the journey treated you well,” he replied, his tone warm but firm. “Please tell Mother I appreciate her words, but I’m quite busy managing things here on the estate. It would be far better if they came to the US instead. The travel would do them good, and I can arrange everything for their comfort.”

Clara nodded thoughtfully, then her gaze drifted briefly to the gleaming platinum collar around Lena’s neck. Her eyes lingered for a fraction of a second—long enough for Lena to realize with a jolt that Clara completely recognized what it truly was. The older woman’s expression remained perfectly polite, but there was a flicker of knowing in her eyes.

Lena’s stomach tightened with unease. Had he given collars like this to other women before her? Those women Alicia described who came to him at nights before her? He must have preferred them? Surely they let him use their bodies however he wanted?she made a mental note to talk to Clara about that? The question burned in her mind, stirring a sharp pang of jealousy and insecurity. How many had worn his mark so openly before her?.Although it was all ridiculous. Why was she jealous

Clara smoothly continued the conversation as if nothing had happened, recounting the crisp mountain air, the picturesque villages, and the quiet evenings spent by the fireside with his parents. Elias asked gentle, engaged questions, offering quiet counsel when she touched on a small difficulty during her travels. The easy rhythm between them revealed years of deep loyalty and care—he passed her the choicest fruits, remembered her preferences, and smiled with real fondness at her stories.

Lena watched silently, a complex mix of emotions swirling inside her. There was a flicker of envy at the effortless respect Clara received, but also a strange comfort in witnessing this gentler side of Elias. The man who could be so unrelentingly dominant with her clearly held real, protective regard for this woman who had long been part of his life.

Elias’s hand found hers beneath the table, giving it a light, possessive squeeze. His eyes met hers with a silent promise—the morning was theirs.

As they rose from the table, Elias took her hand and led her toward the waiting car. Once inside, he turned to her with a measured look. “I’ve cleared the morning for us, my love. I have a surprise planned for you. We’ll be out in public today, so the world can see how radiant you look wearing my collar.” He paused, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “And yes you can spent time with Alicia. Tomorrow evening you may go see Alicia at her culinary school. Thomas will accompany you, and you will return by nine o’clock sharp. Understood?”