Command

Chapter 6

Ethan Aviel Scaforte believed in three things:

If you’re gonna be scandalous, be expensive about it.

If you want someone’s attention, be louder than the rest of the world.

If you push the monster hard enough, it might just bite you back and maybe, just maybe, you’d like the teeth.

So when he told his friends he was planning a “simple” island trip, everyone knew it would be a spectacle.

“Private villa. Infinity pool. Open bar. Zero rules.”

Ethan’s group chat was a neon fever dream: models, influencers, rich kids who’d sell their soul for clout. They arrived by speedboat, laughing and screaming, filming every glittery second for their followers.

And of course standing at the dock in her crisp tactical gear, arms folded like an avenging angel, was General Araxie Gryec.

“You look hot in black,” Ethan purred, sunglasses pushed high on his forehead. He wore a sheer mesh tank top that barely counted as clothing, a designer wrap-around sarong, and enough jewelry to pay a year’s rent in Manila.

Araxie’s eyes flicked over the entourage. “No unauthorized guests. You promised.”

“Everyone here is authorized,” Ethan lied sweetly. “Besides, you’re here to protect me, right? Gotta see what you’re guarding.”

Araxie ignored the bait. “Ground rules: no wandering alone. No unsupervised swims at night. No press. No—”

“Shhhh.” Ethan pressed a finger to her lips. She didn’t flinch but her nostrils flared. “Try to have fun, General. Or at least pretend.”

He made it his mission: push her over the edge.

When they ate by the pool, he climbed into her lap, wet from the water, giggling at the shocked looks from his friends.
When they played drinking games, he sat beside her, feeding her shots she didn’t drink.
When someone asked, “So, General, are you single?” Ethan answered for her “She’s married. To the job. But I think she wants an affair.”

Araxie endured it all every sultry joke, every sticky touch like a soldier under fire. Her only sign of discomfort was the slight tick of her jaw whenever he leaned too close.

And Ethan fed on it.
Like candy.
Like poison.

It all blew up on the third night.

He snuck out of the villa just before midnight slipped past the sleeping bodies sprawled on designer beanbags and empty champagne bottles. Down at the private beach, the moon turned the water silver.

He knew she’d follow. Of course she’d follow.

Standing in the shallows, waves lapping at his ankles, Ethan let the breeze whip through his hair. He wore nothing but a white silk robe, open at the chest.

And when the shadows shifted behind him, he smiled.

“Took you long enough, General,” he drawled.

Araxie’s silhouette moved down the steps, boots crunching in the sand. “What did I say about swimming alone?”

“God, you’re hot when you’re mad.” He turned, robe fluttering. “Come swim with me.”

“Ethan—”

But then a voice that wasn’t hers.

“Well, look who we have here.”

A flicker of a phone screen. A flash.
A man older, grinning, holding up a camera. Ethan’s stomach dropped. Paparazzi? Stalker? He hadn’t invited press not here.

“Mr. Scaforte! How about a private shot for my channel, huh? Don’t worry, it’ll pay well—”

“Get away,” Ethan snapped. He stepped back into the water a bad idea his foot caught on a rock.

Araxie was on the man in seconds.

It wasn’t a brawl. It wasn’t chaos. It was surgical.

Araxie moved like a storm disarming the man, phone crushed under her boot, wrist pinned in her iron grip. She said nothing no threats, no curses. Just that terrifying, lethal calm.

The stalker squealed as she pressed his face into the sand. Ethan could barely hear the words, but he heard her say, “You’ll forget this night. Or you’ll never walk again.”

A shiver ran through him. Not fear not really. Something hotter. Something that made his knees weak.

When the man stumbled away, half-crying, Araxie turned and for the first time, Ethan saw it.

She was breathing hard. Her eyes were bright. Her fists trembled just slightly.
A crack in the ice.

He couldn’t stop himself. He splashed through the surf, flung himself into her chest, robe soaked and clinging to his skin.

“You did that for me?” he breathed, half-dazed. “You’d really—”

Her hands caught his arms, holding him steady but not pushing him away. “Ethan, you could have been—”

“I know, I know,” he said, voice tumbling out like a waterfall. “Say it. Say you care. I wanna hear you say it.”

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Only the storm in her eyes.

Ethan giggled drunk on adrenaline. He brushed his lips over her jaw, feather-soft. “Scared you’d lose me, huh?”

“Stop it.” Her grip tightened. Not painful but commanding. “You can’t do this.”

“I like doing this,” he whispered, nuzzling her throat. “I wanna see how far you’ll go for me.”

“Ethan—”

He kissed her fast and desperate. Salt and wind and fire. Her gasp was muffled against his mouth.

And this time, she didn’t hold back.

She kissed him back hard, wet, teeth catching his lip. She spun him, pinning him to a palm tree at the water’s edge. His robe slipped off his shoulders, baring salt-slick skin.

He moaned when she bit his neck an echo of the ocean in his ears. Her breath ghosted down his throat.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” she growled.

“Then show me,” he dared, hips grinding against her thigh.

They didn’t go all the way not on the sand, not like this.

But they crossed a line neither of them could uncross.

When she finally pulled away, Ethan was limp in her arms pupils blown wide, lips bruised.

Araxie lifted him effortlessly carried him back up the beach, one arm around his waist, the other gripping his discarded robe.

His friends, who’d stumbled outside for the commotion, stared wide-eyed at the sight.

Ethan flushed, messy, sassy as ever just flicked them a grin and croaked, “Told you she wants me.”

Back inside the villa, Araxie dressed him wrapped him in dry clothes, combed his hair back with calm, efficient fingers.

Ethan clung to her sleeve. “So… you do care.”

She met his eyes her mask back in place, but now there was a heat behind it he couldn’t unsee.

“I care enough to keep you alive,” she said softly. “Even from yourself.”

He pouted, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re so unfair, General.”

Araxie brushed a thumb over the fresh bite mark blooming on his collarbone her mark.

“You’re not ready for fair.”