“The back gate isn't guarded as heavily as the front,” he whispered, pushing the door open a little wider and stepping inside briefly before quickly closing and locking it again. He looked me up and down, his green eyes widened when he saw my red, tear-stained face.
“Ariadne… what did he do to you?”
“Nothing… he didn't do anything,” I answered quickly, even though I felt like I was being torn apart inside. “He just… he just made me feel like an object he found, something that now is his.”
Jaxon stepped forward and, without a moment's hesitation, pulled me into his arms. It was a tight, warm, and comforting embrace.
I could feel the hug of my childhood friend, someone who always knew when I needed to feel safe. I closed my eyes and pressed my ear against his chest, listening to his rapid, agitated heartbeat.
“You aren't an object,” he said firmly, gently kissing the top of my head. "And he has no right to own you like this. “No, it’s not about the money; I’ve spoken to a friend’s lawyer. That contract you signed under duress… it can be voided. We can fight it.”
I shook my head slowly, unable to bring myself to break the embrace, even though I knew every passing second here made the situation more dangerous.
“You don't know the extent of his reach, Jaxon. He said if I didn't comply… he’d make sure my aunt and uncle could never work anywhere again. And if I fought back… he could do something even worse. To you, too. He already threatened your career that night, remember?”
Jaxon loosened his hold slightly, cupping my face in his hands, calloused from hockey practice, and looked at me with such sincerity that my heart ached.
“Let him try. A hockey career can be replaced. But you… you can't be replaced by anything in this world. And I won't let you spend the rest of your life here, trapped and unhappy, just because he feels you owe him your life.” He swallowed hard, then spoke in a softer, yet resolute, voice. “I love you. I have for a long time. And I’m not just going to give up to some arrogant, wealthy old man who thinks money can buy everything, including you.”
I wanted to answer him; I wanted to say that I’d always seen him as more than just a friend, too.
But in this room, inside Damon Vane’s house, those words felt like a betrayal that could burn us both alive.
“Jaxon… you have to go,” I whispered, pulling his hands away from my face, even though every movement felt heavy. “If Damon finds you here… God knows what he’ll do to you.” “And I can't bear that burden on my shoulders, either.”
“And I can't bear the burden of leaving you here alone,” he shot back, though he knew I was right. He glanced toward the door, then looked back at me with a promise in his eyes. “I’ll come back. And I’ll find a way to get you out of here. Trust me.”
“Go, please.”
He let out a long, heavy sigh, then leaned down and gently kissed my forehead, a soft touch filled with respect and care, worlds apart from Damon’s demanding, commanding grip.
“Take care of yourself, my little girl.” “Until we meet again.”
He turned and left, disappearing behind the door and closing it softly behind him.
I turned toward the window, pulled back the silk curtain slightly, and saw Jaxon’s figure running through the rain toward the back fence. But just as I was about to step away, my eyes caught something, or rather, someone.
On the second-floor balcony of the east wing stood a tall, dark figure, partially hidden in the shadows of a stone pillar. His left hand rested against the wall, and in his right… a cigar glowed slowly in the darkness.
Damon.
He didn't move. He didn't shout. He simply stood there, watching Jaxon leave, and now… staring straight at my window.
My heart skipped a beat.
He didn't wave. He gave no signal. But in the faint light of the porch lamp, I saw the corners of his mouth turn down, not in an explosion of rage, but in a cold, terrifying satisfaction, as if he knew exactly what was about to happen and now had an even stronger reason to do whatever he pleased.
He slowly raised a finger and pointed directly at me. Then, he turned and vanished back into the darkness.
I backed away from the window until my spine hit the wall, a tremor spreading from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. Jaxon thought he had come unnoticed. But Damon knew; he always knew.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart still racing just as it had when I’d broken free the night before.
The memory of Damon’s gaze from the balcony haunted me.
I showered in water that felt too hot against my skin, then put on the simple light-blue dress laid out on the chair; the fabric was soft and fit my body perfectly, once again, it seemed tailor-made for me. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized the girl staring back.
My hair was neatly combed, my cheeks were pale, and a glint of fear, something I’d never felt before, shone in my eyes.
Damon.
He was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt buttoned all the way to the collar; his hair was slightly damp, as if he had just showered.
A steaming cup of black coffee sat before him, and he was reading a thick document held in one hand, while the fingers of his other hand tapped a rhythm against the table, the same rhythm as in the car yesterday.
I stepped inside just as the clock struck eight.
“Eight o'clock sharp,” he said without looking up. “Good. Obedience begins with the little things.”
I walked over and sat in the chair a servant pulled out for me, positioned to his right, rather than at the far end of the table.
Breakfast was already laid out toast, eggs, cereal, everything looking perfect and untouched.
“Eat,” he commanded, closing the file he’d been reading and looking directly at me. His gray eyes seemed sharper today, more alert. “Don't let me see you getting thin because you think refusing to eat is a way to defy me. You need to be healthy and strong, you belong to me, and I won't let what belongs to me destroy itself.”
I picked up a strawberry and took a small bite, it was sweet, yet it tasted bland on my tongue. Damon watched my every move, as if checking whether I was obeying his orders.
“You know, last night I was standing on the balcony,” he said suddenly, his voice calm, as if he were discussing the weather. “I saw someone running through the rain.”
The hand holding my water glass trembled. A little water spilled onto the white tablecloth.
“Who?” I asked, trying to sound casual even though my heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest.
Damon gave a faint smirk, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “You think I didn't know who it was? Do you think that poorly guarded back fence was an accident?”