The car drove through tall iron gates that opened automatically, and then proceeded along a paved drive flanked by ancient trees hissing in the wind and rain.
At the end of the drive stood a grand house, or rather, a gray stone mansion that looked as though it had stood there for centuries.
The car stopped before the wide main entrance. A servant was waiting with an umbrella, but Damon stepped out immediately and moved to my side, he opened the door and held out his hand without actually touching me as if offering me a choice, even though I knew I had none.
I placed my hand in his palm. His hand was large, rough, and so warm that the temperature difference stung against my skin.
He pulled me to my feet and, unexpectedly, wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing my body against his side as we walked toward the entrance beneath the large umbrella held by the servant.
“Steer clear of the puddles,” he whispered right against my ear; his voice resonated there and sent a shiver down my spine. “That dress may be simple, but it is mine now. And so do you.”
The sound of the rain outside instantly faded, replaced by a warm silence. The marble floor reflected the light of a glittering crystal chandelier, and a curved staircase swept upward, as if leading to a heaven beyond the reach of ordinary people like me.
“Welcome to your home, Mrs. Vane,” Damon said softly beside me, then released my waist and signaled to a middle-aged woman waiting near the stairs. “This is Mrs. Hale. She will attend to you and explain the rules here.”
Mrs. Hale gave a polite nod, but her gaze was sharp, scanning me from head to toe, right down to my rubber shoes, which were starting to come apart at the toes.
“Rules?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly.
Damon turned to face me, his hands in his suit pockets, looking at me intently.
“Simple rules, you don't go anywhere without an escort I’ve assigned. You don't accept calls or messages from anyone without my knowledge. And you never…”
He took a step forward, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“I forbid you from seeing Jaxon Cole, whether alone or with others. Is that clear?”
“You can't forbid me from seeing my childhood friend. He hasn't done anything wrong!”
“He is a threat,” he cut in sharply, his eyes darkening. “And I don't tolerate threats in my home, especially not near my wife.”
“He isn't a threat! He just cares about me!” I stepped back, my spine hitting the cold marble wall. “And you… you treat me as if he’s a criminal, even though you’re the one who forced me here!”
He didn't answer with words; he simply stepped closer, cupping my face in his hands and holding it still so I couldn't look away. My heart was racing so fast I worried he could feel it through the palms pressed against my cheeks.
“Care?” His voice was low and sharp; his eyes traced every inch of my face as if trying to memorize it forever. “He doesn't know what this world is capable of doing to you; he doesn't know how fragile our situation is. He only sees the little girl who grew up alongside him. But I…” He paused, swallowing hard as if the next words were heavy to utter. “I know the steep price of a life. And I won't risk losing what I’ve only just found again.”
“You aren't losing me,” I whispered, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over to wet his fingers. “Because I never was yours in the first place.”
That answer made his eyes narrow. His gaze dropped to my lips slowly, heavily, and when it returned to mine, something had shifted: a dark, hungry look that made my knees go weak.
“You’ll learn,” he said, his tone soft yet menacing. “You’ll learn until you believe with your whole soul that you belong to me, only to me.”
He slowly lowered his hands, as if letting go of me against his will, then pointed toward the stairs.
“Mrs. Hale will show you to our room. Get some rest; tomorrow morning, I want to see you in the dining room at eight o'clock sharp. Don't be late.”
He turned and walked away, his steps heavy and measured, disappearing down the hallway to the right of the lobby without once looking back. It was as if that brief confrontation had given him all the assurance he needed that I would bow to his will. Mrs. Hale stepped closer.
“Come with me, Mrs. Vane. I shall show you to your room and the things Mr. Vane has prepared for you.”
The room was nearly as large as my aunt's and uncle's entire house.
Arranged on the vanity were bottles of fragrant lotions, while garments of soft, expensive fabric hung ready, all in my size, as if he had long known exactly who I was and what my measurements were.
“Who gave you these measurements?” I asked softly, touching the sleeve of a cream-colored silk nightgown hanging before the mirror.
“Mr. Vane gathered all the necessary information the moment he was certain you were the woman who had saved him,” Mrs. Hale replied, avoiding my gaze. “He never does anything by halves, Madam. Once he sets his sights on a goal… he secures it.”
“I can sense that.”
“Very well, Madam. Is there anything else you require tonight?”
“No, thank you.”
Only when the door closed and I was alone in that vast room did I allow myself to crumble. I sat on the edge of the plush bed and buried my face in my hands, tears streaming through my fingers.
This house was beautiful and luxurious, filled with everything money could buy, yet it felt colder and lonelier than the cramped room I had left behind at my uncle's house.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
I lifted my face, wiped away my tears with the back of my hand, and walked toward it. “Who is it?”
“Don't shout. And don't open it unless you're certain it's me.”
That voice, a low whisper I knew so well. My heart hammered so hard I could barely breathe. I took a deep breath and opened the door just enough to see his face, wet from the rain, his hair disheveled and his hockey team jacket dripping water onto the polished wood floor.
“Jaxon…” His name escaped in a hiss. "How did you get in here? If Damon sees you…"