Jealous Of The Billionaire's Dog

Daphne sat in the dimly lit lounge long after the Voss siblings had left, staring blankly at the dying embers in the fireplace. The weight of her decision settled over her like a lead blanket. She had just sold herself to two of the most dangerous people she knew—Alaric and Celeste Voss—all to protect a dog.

But not just any dog. Tiberius.

The golden-furred guardian that Moris adored above all else. The dog that had, in a twisted way, determined Moris' love life. The one she had tried—and failed—to manipulate into liking her.

Now, she had to play a game where losing meant more than just embarrassment. It meant destruction.

Across the room, Vivian was pacing, her heels clicking sharply against the wooden floor. "I still can't believe you agreed to this. Do you have any idea what the Voss family is capable of?"

Daphne exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Yes, Vivian. I do."

Damian was seated across from her, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "Then why the hell did you agree?"

She lifted her gaze, her voice steady. "Because they weren't bluffing. They would've taken Tiberius. And Moris—he wouldn't have just been heartbroken. He would've destroyed whoever was responsible. And if they pinned it on me?" She shook her head. "I'd be finished."

Damian's jaw tightened. "So you're just going to do whatever they ask? Become their pawn?"

Daphne's fingers curled into fists. "I'll find a way out."

Vivian scoffed. "A way out? Of the Voss family's grip? Good luck with that."

A heavy silence followed.

Then, a voice spoke from the shadows.

"You should've called me first."

Everyone turned toward the entrance, where Elias Hart, an old acquaintance of Daphne's, leaned against the doorframe.

Elias was a fixer—someone who operated in the gray spaces between legality and crime. He had the kind of charm that could get him into exclusive clubs and the kind of ruthlessness that ensured he walked out alive. His deep brown eyes scanned the room, landing on Daphne with an air of exasperation.

"Tell me you didn't just promise to be Alaric Voss' errand girl," Elias said, pushing off the frame and stepping into the room.

Daphne sighed. "It was that, or let them take Tiberius."

Elias let out a dry laugh. "Daphne, you could've called me. I have connections. I could've made this disappear."

She raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly would you have done that?"

Elias smirked. "Oh, I have my ways."

Vivian folded her arms. "And what exactly do you want, Elias?"

He turned his gaze to her, the smirk not fading. "I want what I always want—control over the chaos. And right now, Daphne is knee-deep in it."

Damian cut in, his voice sharp. "Are you offering to get her out of this?"

Elias considered for a moment before shaking his head. "No. I'm offering to help her survive it."

Daphne leaned back against the chair, exhaustion settling in. "What's your angle, Elias?"

He sat down across from her, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "You think too lowly of me, Daphne. Maybe I just don't like seeing you chained up by psychopaths."

She scoffed. "You say that like you're any different."

Elias chuckled. "Fair point." Then his expression sobered. "But the Voss family doesn't make threats lightly. Whatever they have planned for you? It won't be easy, and it won't be clean. You need someone who knows how they operate."

Damian looked between them. "And that's you?"

Elias nodded. "That's me."

Vivian exhaled sharply. "So now we have two devils to deal with. Great."

Daphne ignored her and turned to Elias. "What do you suggest?"

Elias leaned forward, his voice dropping to something more serious. "You do exactly what they ask—for now. But you also start gathering leverage. Because the only way you walk away from this is if you have something they want more than your obedience."

Daphne swallowed. "And what would that be?"

Elias smirked. "That's what we're going to find out."

A New Web Begins to Weave

The next morning, Daphne received her first message from Celeste.

It was a simple text.

Meet us at Blackthorn Manor. Midnight. Come alone.

Daphne stared at the screen. Midnight meetings at isolated estates never ended well.

Elias, reading over her shoulder, smirked. "And so it begins."

Daphne sighed. "It never really ended, did it?"

Elias chuckled. "No, darling. It didn't."