I tell myself to focus on the words in my book. To pretend I don’t feel the heat of his presence behind me. But I can’t. And that, more than anything, makes me realize how inescapable this life with him already is.
I set the book aside, my fingers lingering on the cover as I glance at him. “Why are you following me around the house?” I ask, my voice sharper than I mean it to be.
He tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “I’m doing no such thing.”
I laugh, bitter and low. “Don’t lie to me, Niko. You can’t keep me locked in a cage forever. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to let me go.”
He steps closer, and just being near him makes my chest tighten. His voice is low, cold, and final. “You were mine the moment you said, ‘I do.’ And I will keep you here because that is the only way to keep you safe.”
The words land like a hammer.Safe. Mine.He’s claiming me—body, mind, and soul—and part of me trembles at the possessiveness, even as another part rebels.
I open my mouth to argue, to remind him I’m not just a piece of property, but the weight in his gaze stops me. He’s unshakable. Absolute. And for the first time since this nightmare-turned-marriage began, I understand that in his world, desire and protection are the same thing—and I’m caught in both.
I grit my teeth and push back, my voice shaking with the anger I’m trying not to let show. “I only agreed to marry you to survive, Niko! Don’t act like this…like you really care or something. Don’t pretend it’s…anything else.”
“Pretend? Who said anything about care, Noelle?” His gaze lands on me, hard, unblinking. The air between us tightens, crackling with energy. “Learn to live with your choice. You made it,” he says, each word deliberate, heavy. His tone brooks no argument.
I rise from the chair and take a step closer, frustration spilling over. “I can be safe outside your…fortress! I don’t need to be trapped here for you to protect me. I—”
“You don’t know who’s after you,” he interrupts, voice low, lethal, and velveted with menace. “I cannot risk it. Not for a second. Not for anyone.”
Heat flares inside me. I shove against his chest—not enough to move him, but enough to feel the immovable force he is. “Well, congratulations, Niko! You sure know how to act like a protective husband right now—but what’s the point of this charade if you can’t even sleep in the same bed as me? Can’t even talk to me?”
He doesn’t answer. Silence, thick and suffocating, presses in. My pulse hammers in my ears. I see the slight flare of his nostrils, the tension in his jaw. His eyes darken, and I know he’s sizing me up, weighing every ounce of fire I’m throwing at him. The sheer intensity of his stare should intimidate me, should make me crumble.
But I’m too angry to care. My chest heaves, my jaw tight, and I refuse to let him see even a flicker of fear.
I spin on my heel, my heels clicking sharply against the floor, and march toward the door. “I’m done,” I snap over my shoulder, my voice brittle but unwavering.
I throw the door open and step into the hallway, the cool air outside the room slapping me with reality. My heart is racing—not from fear, but from fury, defiance, and the undeniable pull of him that I hate myself for feeling.
I need distance. I need space. And yet…part of me wonders how long I’ll manage to outrun him when he’s everywhere, in everything, and I can’t stop noticing how much I want him despite myself.
***
That night, I’m half-asleep when I feel the mattress dip beside me. My eyes snap open, and my heart stutters.
Niko.
He slides in beside me without a word, his presence filling the space with that same tension I can’t name. He’s here. He listened. After my outburst in the library, after I shouted at him for never sleeping in the same bed, he’s here—silently, deliberately. Shock ripples through me. My chest tightens in a way that’s both terrifying and thrilling.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move too close or touch me—not yet. Just his presence, so impossibly solid, so undeniably him, fills the space and makes the air between us electric. My pulse races.
I can’t stop the thought from surfacing: This man…this ruthless, brutal, unrelenting force…actually listens to me. And somehow, knowing that…it makes my heart betray me, fluttering against my ribcage in a way I can’t control.
“Are you going to sleep?” he asks suddenly, his voice low, measured. “Or are you going to keep tossing and turning?”
I smother a laugh, keeping my walls firmly in place, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reading me too easily.
He shifts slightly, the weight of him beside me reminding me of everything I’ve agreed to—and everything I haven’t. “Anton escaping,” he murmurs, “is that…bothering you? Causing problems?”
For a second, I consider lying, smooth excuses to avoid opening myself up. But I don’t. I breathe out, letting honesty take the risk. “Yes,” I admit, voice small. “It…it’s causing problems. I don’t know what to do about it.”
Silence hangs for a heartbeat, heavy and electric. The tension between us thickens, a mix of fear, desire, and the unspoken knowledge that he’s both the source of my security—and the reason my pulse won’t settle.
“Tell me,” he murmurs, voice low and deliberate, his eyes boring into mine. “Tell me what really happened with Anton.”
I hesitate, unsure if I want to give him the full picture, but the intensity in his gaze makes my walls crumble. “It…it was bad,” I begin, my voice trembling just slightly. “He…he fought a lot. Always angry. He gambled too much. When he drank, he…he could get really scary. Unpredictable. And loud.”
