Chapter 97: The Possessive Boss

The low purr of a Bentley engine disturbed the quiet of the Norse driveway.

Ares stepped out, tailored charcoal shirt crisp against the morning light. Even at rest, he carried the air of a man who moved markets and commanded rooms without raising his voice.

He wasn’t here socially.

He had come for Lara.

Dr. Chavez had proposed something unconventional for Shay’s therapy—a family outing outside the capital. Neutral ground. Fresh air. Open space. Less pressure.

Ares had immediately thought of his property South of Lanura.

The one near Carles Lake. The one with the ranch.

The property has wide fields and quiet water, a perfect place for relaxation.

He shut the car door softly and strode toward the mansion’s main entrance—but paused.

Metal striking metal carried faintly through the morning air.

Then, he heard the voices of Liam, Logan, and Lucas.

He pivoted without hesitation, long strides redirecting toward the east wing lawn—the same grounds where General Norse’s birthday had once drawn politicians and power players in tailored suits.

Now it held something far more compelling.

He slowed as he reached the edge of the lawn.

And stopped. He took out his cellphone and pressed the record button.

Lara stood in the center of the lawn, black fabric clinging to her frame, sunlight outlining the curves of her body. The training sword flashed as she moved—thrust, pivot, slice.

Not playful. Not hesitant but intentional.

The blade hummed through the air in smooth arcs, her wrist steady, shoulders relaxed. Each movement flowed into the next with an ease that didn’t belong to a beginner.

Ares swallowed.

It was subtle. Almost imperceptible.

But it wasn’t just appreciation.

It was recognition of power.

There was something dangerous about grace paired with control.

He watched a moment longer than necessary.

Lara finished her final turn before lowering the blade.

Then he crossed the grass calmly, presence announced not by noise, but by gravity.

The brothers noticed him first.

“That’s a beautiful sword dance, Larissa,” Ares said, voice even, composed. His gaze lingered just a fraction too long. “I hope you can teach Shay similar moves.”

Lara handed the sword back to Logan without breaking eye contact. “I’ll do.”

“Why are you here, Ares?” Liam asked, tone polite but measured.

“I’m here to pick up Larissa.” His eyes shifted briefly to her again.

Lucas smirked. “Ares, it is not yet half a day, and you are already taking our sister back?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and stood beside Lara.

“Dr. Chavez recommended an outing. I plan to take Shay to my ranch near Carles Lake.”

Carles.

Lara paused. Something unreadable flickering across her expression. The name brought back bittersweet memories.

Once, the capital of an empire. Now, a lake swallowing ruins beneath its calm surface.

“Okay.” She answered without hesitation.

Logan stepped forward immediately. “Can we come too? We’ve got nothing planned this weekend anyway.”

Ares glanced at the three brothers.

Three trained, disciplined men.

Protective and observant.

He didn’t dislike it.

He considered for half a second.

He had intended to keep the outing contained.

Controlled.

But sometimes control required proximity.

“Okay.”

“Then, let Lara have breakfast first,” Liam said smoothly. “Mom would not agree to let her leave without eating. You can join us.”

“Then let me trouble you,” he replied without hesitation.

Lara’s gaze turned to Ares. She did not expect him to agree so easily.

But then, the Norse and the Zuvel families were close to begin with.

As they began walking toward the house together, Ares allowed himself one final glance at Lara.

The morning light softened her features.

But the memory of steel in her hands remained sharp.

…

At the northern edge of the lawn, where manicured hedges formed a living wall of emerald, a slender figure stood half-hidden in shadow.

Summer had woken up earlier.

She had chosen her outfit carefully—athletic, effortless, flattering without trying too hard. She had rehearsed a casual greeting in her mind, something light, something natural.

She had hoped to “accidentally” run into Liam during his morning exercise.

Timing was everything.

But timing, it seemed, was not on her side.

She had heard the metallic clash first and followed it quietly, curiosity guiding her steps. What she found stopped her in place.

Lara.

On the lawn, sparring with Logan.

Summer’s fingers tightened against the hedge leaves as she watched.

The movements were not clumsy. They were precise and controlled.

Dangerous in a way that did not need to be loud.

Then the sparring shifted into something else—a flowing sword dance beneath the rising sun. The blade cut through golden light like it belonged there. Lara’s posture was straight, her expression calm, as if she were born into the rhythm of steel.

She reminded Summer of a Samurai Princess.

Her throat felt dry.

She shifted her gaze—not to Lara—

But to the brothers.

Logan’s grin had faded into something sharper. Respect.

Lucas was staring openly, admiration written all over his face.

And Liam—

Liam wasn’t smiling. He was studying.

Watching her like she was a puzzle he hadn’t anticipated solving.

That look. Summer knew that look.

He only wore it when something intrigued him, when something mattered.

From where she stood, even at a distance, she could see it clearly—the subtle softening around his eyes, the quiet intensity reserved for rare things.

The kind of attention she had been trying to earn for months.

And Lara had drawn it in minutes.

Envy flared, hot and immediate, coiling low in her chest.

She had trained in etiquette… in piano… in public speaking… in philanthropy events and charity galas. She knew how to smile at the right angle, how to tilt her head just enough to appear demure.

But she did not know how to command a blade.

She did not know how to look like she belonged in their world of strength and discipline.

She had wanted to be beside Liam.

Instead, she stood behind the hedges like an outsider looking in.

And then Ares arrived.

Summer watched the way his presence shifted the air. The way Lara did not look surprised. The way they spoke with familiarity.

Something tightened further inside her.

This wasn’t just about admiration anymore.

It was about territory.

And for the first time—

Summer realized she might already be losing ground.

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