Her old apartment in Chicago flickers in one feed. Still intact. Still under watch. I lean back, arms folded, eyes locked on the image. She thinks walking down the aisle makes her free of ghosts, of enemies, of Anton’s mess. She has no idea how wrong she is.
Or how closely I’ve been watching.
I don’t know if it makes me feel powerful. Or guilty. Or both.
“What is that?”
Her voice cuts through the hum of the screens, sharp and sudden. I swivel in the chair.
Noelle stands in the doorway, changed into a baggy lounge set that swallows her frame. For a split second, I almost see relief—like she’s shed the weight of the wedding dress. But then her eyes snap to the monitors, to the grainy feed of her Chicago apartment glowing on the far left screen.
Her face drains.
“Have you been…watching me?”
I don’t flinch. I don’t look away. “Anton was on the list. And then you made your sudden move. That made you a suspect, too.”
She stares at me like I’ve slapped her, mouth opening and closing before words come out. “Do you watch all suspects like this?”
“No,” I say evenly, letting the truth hang between us. Then, softer, deliberate: “Just the ones I like.”
Her eyes widen. Horror. Disbelief. A flash of something else I can’t quite name.
“This is…creepy,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Creepy and stalkerish.”
I rise from the chair slowly, deliberately, not bothering to defend myself. “Maybe,” I say. “Call it whatever you want. It kept you alive.”
Her jaw tightens. “You’ve been watching me in my own apartment, Niko. Do you even hear yourself? That’s not protection. That’s control.”
A cold smile tugs at my mouth. “And what’s the difference? You’re mine either way.”
Her eyes flash wide, fury sparking. “I’m not yours. You married me to shut me up, not to own me.”
I take two slow steps toward her, each one deliberate, forcing her back a fraction until the wall is at her spine. I lower my voice, sharp and cutting. “Noelle, don’t delude yourself. You wear my ring; you live under my roof. Whether you like it or not, you belong to me. We’ve had this conversation too many times for my liking. Let it sink in this time.”
She stares at me, chest rising and falling fast, her voice breaking with rage. “You think this makes you a man? Watching me shower? Eating takeout on my couch? Do you enjoy treating me like some lab rat in a cage?”
There are no cameras in her bathroom, so I haven’t watched her shower. Even I won't do that. But she doesn’t have to know, since she wants to act like she’s my boss.
I tilt my head, eyes dragging down her face, unbothered. “Not a rat. A prize. And yes…I enjoy it.”
Her breath catches—half disbelief, half disgust. “You’re sick.”
“Maybe.” I lean in closer, my breath brushing the shell of her ear. “But I know everything about you. What you eat, when you sleep, how long you stare at yourself in the mirror before you finally turn away. I know you better than anyone ever has. Tell me—doesn’t part of you like being seen?”
Her face twists, fury trembling through every muscle. She raises her hand, the movement sharp and unhesitating. But before her palm can connect, my hand shoots up, fingers closing tight around her wrist.
The sound of her gasp fills the silence between us. Her pulse hammers against my grip, wild, defiant.
I hold her there, close enough that she can’t look away, close enough that her rage has nowhere to go but inward. My voice drops, low and dangerous.
“Try that again,” I murmur, eyes locked on hers. “I dare you.”
Chapter 7 – Noelle
“Try that again. I dare you.”
Anger boils up inside me so fast it feels like fire in my veins. His dare rings in my ears, smug and poisonous, daring me to bow, daring me to break.
