Chapter Text
The rain in Barcelona did not wash the city clean; it only made the grime slick.Inside the gated compound in Pedralbes, the silence was absolute, heavy with the scent of expensive cologne, old marble, and the metallic tang of unspoken threats. Pau Cubarsí stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass of the master bedroom, watching the downpour blur the lights of the city below. He was twenty-one, but his eyes carried the cold, calculated weight of a man who had already bartered his soul. On the bed behind him lay his wedding band—a thick, unyielding band of black platinum.The door clicked open. Pau didn't flinch. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The heavy, deliberate footsteps belonged to only one person.Marc Bernal stepped into the room, stripping off his soaked suit jacket and tossing it carelessly onto a leather armchair. At nineteen, Marc was a towering, imposing figure, his frame hardened not just by athletics, but by the ruthless underworld his family controlled—an empire that Pau’s family had desperately needed to survive. "You're awake," Marc said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that scraped against Pau’s raw nerves."Hard to sleep in a prison," Pau replied softly, his gaze remaining fixed on the rain.Marc crossed the room, the distance disappearing in a few predatory strides. He stopped right behind Pau, his heat radiating through the damp fabric of his shirt. He didn't touch Pau—not yet—but his presence was suffocating. "A prison you signed up for, mi amor," Marc murmured, leaning down so his breath brushed the shell of Pau's ear. "Your father's debts were erased the moment you said 'I do' this morning. Don't play the victim now."Pau swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. The marriage was a blood treaty, a binding contract between two dynasties that used football as a glamorous front for much darker operations. Pau was the crown jewel of the Cubarsí legacy, sacrificed to the Bernals to ensure a fragile peace."I am a man of my word, Marc," Pau said, finally turning to face his husband. His chest pressed lightly against Marc’s broad torso. "I will play my part. But do not expect me to love you."A dark, dangerous smile touched the corners of Marc's lips. He reached up, his large, calloused hand gripping Pau's jaw with a terrifying possessiveness. It wasn't painful, but the absolute control behind the grip was undeniable. He forced Pau to look up into his obsidian eyes. "Love is a weakness, Pau. I don't want your love," Marc whispered, his thumb tracing the sharp line of Pau's lower lip, pressing just hard enough to demand submission. "I want your loyalty. I want your obedience. And when we are behind these closed doors, I want every single piece of you. "Pau’s breath hitched. He hated how his body betrayed him, how the sheer intensity of Marc’s dark fixation made his pulse race. He gripped Marc’s wrist, not pulling the hand away, but anchoring himself to it. "You think you can break me?" Pau challenged, his voice shaking slightly despite his bravado.Marc’s smile widened, devoid of any warmth. He leaned in, his lips hovering mere millimetres from Pau's. "I don't want to break you, Pau. I want to consume you. And by the time I'm done, you won't even remember who you were before you became mine. "The tension in the room remained thick as the two stood in the shadows of the estate. The alliance between their families was now a reality, casting a long shadow over their individual ambitions. Outside, the rain continued to batter the coast, a reminder of the turbulent world that existed beyond the walls of the Pedralbes compound. The weight of their shared history and the expectations of their legacies lay between them, unyielding and heavy.