Velvet Passions: 22. The Final Claim

The night smelled like rain and danger.

Rose sat curled on Adrian’s sofa, her nerves humming too loud to let her sleep. The collar lay on the table in front of her, polished from how often she touched it when he was gone. Tonight it looked less like a symbol of surrender and more like a question: what did it really mean to be his?

Adrian had been gone for hours. He hadn’t said where—only kissed her hard, promised to “end this,” and left with a look that made her blood run cold.

When the door finally opened, he wasn’t alone.

Two of his men dragged Marcus inside. His face was bloodied, lip split, but his smile—cocky, defiant—remained. Adrian followed, coat hanging off his shoulders like the cloak of an executioner.

He dismissed the men. The lock clicked behind them. And then it was just the three of them, the air thick enough to choke.

“Rosie,” Marcus rasped, spitting red onto the floor. “Did he tell you what he is? You think you’re his lover? You’r