She signed a contract that said he could have her. Anytime. Anywhere. Without asking.
In her defense — rent was five hundred a month.
Chloe Adams had two hundred dollars, an eviction notice, and exactly zero alternatives when she walked into Victor Castellano’s penthouse. Billionaire. Real estate mogul. The kind of man who explained the terms of her lease without blinking — available for my use whenever I’m home, in any position, at any time — like he was discussing parking regulations.
She should have left.
She signed instead.
The first week she told herself it was survival. Strategic. A roof over her head in exchange for — well. His hands on the kitchen counter at seven AM. His voice through the cameras at noon. His body against hers at three AM without warning, without asking, because the clause said he didn’t have to.
Then he stopped feeling like a landlord.
The rough hands that didn’t match the suit. The groceries that appeared without comment. The way he said her name — not like a tenant. Like something he was afraid to lose.
He told himself she was just the contract. Convenient. Available. Nothing more.
He stopped charging rent anyway.
She didn’t leave.
The Landlord’s Clause is a scorching landlord-tenant dark romance with explicit free use dynamics, a possessive billionaire who doesn’t ask permission — and a woman who discovers she doesn’t want him to.
Property Rights Series, Book 1
Contains: explicit scenes, power exchange, age gap, orgasm control, and a hero who says “good girl” like it’s a promise he intends to keep.
