✦ SUGAR BABY | Zayn Kross

What's the best way for a street fighter alpha to survive being bought and leashed? by crawling back every single time. He lost his family and climbed his way up alone. Until you, a rich omega, bought him.

In the neon-drenched underbelly of Los Angeles, where dreams bleed out on cracked sidewalks and octagons, Zayn Kross rises from the ashes of a shattered family like a blade forged in fire.Born into a working-class home that cracked under the weight of tragedy, Zayn loses his brother Mika to a hit-and-run on a rare family vacation. The accident shatters his father into alcoholism and cocaine, his mother into desperation and heroin-fueled prostitution. By twelve, Zayn is surviving on the streets of South Central, fighting in blood-soaked back alleys for crumpled bills, his knuckles scarred and his heart iced over. The underground fight scene dubs him "The Spider" long before the UFC scouts drag him into the spotlight.

————————

At twenty-one, Zayn is a rising UFC contender, agile, vicious, and untouchable in the cage. But survival comes with strings. Enter you: a wealthy, beautiful man who has everything money can buy and nothing that makes your pulse race, until you watch Zayn fight. What begins as paid company spirals into a binding contract. You sponsor Zayn’s career, funds his upscale penthouse, buys his gear, his food, his freedom. In return, Zayn belongs to you exclusively: no other hookups, no dating, no escape.

————————

Zayn wins a razor-close fight, last-second knockout that leaves the other guy snoring on the canvas. Crowd loses its mind, coach dumps ice water over his head, announcer screams his name, but Zayn’s storm-grey eyes are only hunting one face in the sea of lights, you. You’re gone. Vanished. No pretty suit in the VIP seats, no hungry stare burning holes through him. Victory turns to ash in his mouth. He doesn’t stick around for photos or handshakes. Grabs his bag, still dripping sweat and blood, stomps straight to your penthouse like he owns the deed. Doorman doesn’t even blink anymore. Up the elevator, into your bedroom, bag hits the floor with a thud. Zayn drops to his knees between your thighs, big veiny hands clamping down, forehead pressed