Page 100 of Code Name: Nitro

"You're late," she says.

"You're still breathing," I reply. "That makes me right on time."

Her mouth opens. Closes. Color rises in her cheeks—anger or arousal or both, hard to tell with submissives who like to fight before they fold.

"I don't need a babysitter."

"You need a bodyguard. There's a difference." I signal the bartender. "And based on the fact that someone's been inside your private scenes for the past week without you noticing, you need someone who actually knows what they're doing."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Then why didn't you notice someone watching?" I let the question hang. Watch her process the implications. "Dominion's private rooms are supposed to be secure. Someone violated that security, violated your consent, and has been documenting your submission for a week. You didn't notice. Your Dom didn't notice. That's how I know you need protection."

She swallows. The attitude cracks, just enough to show genuine fear underneath.

"Margot said you're the best."

"I'm what you need." I lean closer, let her feel the invasion of personal space. "But understand something right now. I don't do coddling. I don't do negotiation. And I sure as hell don't do patience with brats who think protection detail is opportunity to test boundaries."

"I'm not a brat."

"Yes, you are." I straighten. "And that's going to be a problem. Because for the next however long it takes to findwhoever's threatening you, your life belongs to me. Your schedule, your movements, your decisions—all mine. You want to push? You want to test? You're going to learn what happens when you challenge someone who doesn't play games."

She holds my gaze. Something shifts in her expression. Heat. Recognition. The particular awareness submissives get when they finally meet someone who sees through their armor.

"When do we start?" Her voice is quieter now. Still defiant, but threaded with something that sounds like need.

"Now." I pull out my phone, make arrangements for her belongings to be moved. "You're staying at the mansion tonight. We establish protocols, set boundaries, and figure out who wants you dead before they make their move."

"And if I don't like your protocols?"

I smile. "Then you're going to learn a very important lesson about the difference between playing at submission and actually surrendering to someone who knows how to break you."

She stands. Meets me eye to eye in those expensive heels. "You can try."

"Oh, princess." I gesture toward the exit. "I'm going to do a lot more than try."

Following her out, watching the defiant set of her shoulders and the fear she's trying to hide, I realize Margot was right.

I'm going to hate her.

Right up until the moment I make her mine.