I wouldn't let it.
The air held a faint scent of cologne mixed with something earthy—a reminder that he was here, that he existed within these four walls. I noticed the absence of clutter; everything was meticulously organized. A dresser sat against one wall, topped with framed photographs that drew my eye.
Two images caught my attention immediately. Both showcased Hades in his element—dressed in team colors and surrounded by men who shared his passion for hockey. In one shot, he grinned widely with his teammates after what must have been a hard-fought victory; their expressions were raw and unguarded, their camaraderie evident even through the glass frame.
In the other photo, he stood alone on the ice, poised with determination. The rink gleamed beneath him, and the caption beneath read Sinclair—unstoppable.
It sent an unsettling chill down my spine; even in those moments of triumph captured on film, he radiated control and power. There was no sign of vulnerability in those images—just pure dominance.
My gaze shifted around the room again. It felt more like an extension of his persona than a personal space—everything polished and pristine as if inviting admiration rather than intimacy. Each detail whispered of control; it made me acutely aware of my own disarray.
I took another step forward into this world that wasn’t mine but was now entwined with my fate.
I stepped back from his room, the weight of it still pressing against my chest. The hallway felt different now, like a path lined with secrets waiting to be uncovered. I moved forward, every inch of this penthouse more scrutinized than the last.
Nothing in this place was random. I could feel it in my bones, a truth settling in as I wandered deeper into Hades' world. The artwork on the walls told stories of ambition and triumph, each piece meticulously chosen, as if he wanted to communicate something through them—a message meant for those who dared to look closer.
I passed a closed door that caught my attention, one I hadn’t tried yet. It stood there, silently inviting me to discover what lay beyond its threshold. My heart raced; curiosity clawed at my insides.
The knob turned easily beneath my fingers. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The study enveloped me in a chill that seemed to cling to my skin. It felt cold and precise, the kind of space designed for efficiency rather than comfort. Dark leather furniture arranged at sharp angles dominated the room, and shelves lined with books filled every corner—tomes on business strategies, psychology, power dynamics—all things that spoke to control.
A heavy scent of ink hung in the air, mingling with the leather and something distinctly Hades. My breath quickened as I took in every detail; everything here felt calculated. There was no clutter or mess—just order and precision as if chaos had been banished completely.
I shouldn’t look through his things. That thought flitted through my mind like a warning bell. But I couldn't resist; this place felt like a puzzle waiting for its pieces to fall into place.
I moved further inside, drawn to an imposing desk at the center of the room. Its surface gleamed under the dim light, free of any distractions or personal touches—a testament to Hades’ ruthless efficiency.
My fingers brushed against a stack of papers neatly arranged at one end—contracts, reports—things that carried weight beyond mere ink on parchment. Each page was an echo of decisions made without my input but affecting me all the same.
With each breath I took, I could almost hear him in this space—the way he commanded attention with every word spoken and how he orchestrated his surroundings like a maestro conducting an orchestra.
I swallowed hard, realizing just how deeply his presence seeped into everything around me.
The desk loomed before me, a fortress of secrets waiting to be unearthed. I stepped closer, heart racing as I fought the urge to turn back. This felt like a trap—and maybe it was. But curiosity clawed at my insides, urging me forward.
I pulled open the drawer with a slow, deliberate motion. Inside, my breath caught. A folder lay waiting, labeled with my name in bold letters that felt like an accusation. I hesitated, fingers hovering above the surface as if I might burn myself.
I flipped the folder open; the pages rustling under my fingertips. Legal documents sprawled across the pages—financial records, background checks that dissected my life down to its most mundane details. Each line echoed his meticulous control over everything surrounding me.
But what sent chills down my spine was the last document—a marriage contract pre-signed by him. My heart plummeted as I scanned the words; each clause felt like a chain tightening around my throat. He had crafted this fate without so much as a whisper of consent from me.
At the bottom of the drawer, something dark caught my eye—a black velvet box nestled among discarded papers and pens. It looked out of place, too luxurious for this sterile environment. Against my better judgment, I reached for it.
My fingers trembled as I lifted the lid. The ring sat inside like a crown—heavy and imposing. Not delicate or elegant but sharp in its finality. It glinted in the muted light, demanding attention with its fierce presence.
Inside the lid, a single word stared back at me: Muse.
A sense of dread washed over me as I processed what this meant—this wasn’t just jewelry; it was an emblem of possession, a reminder that he saw me not just as a partner but as inspiration wrapped in chains.
I closed the box slowly, sealing away that horrifying revelation along with it—the truth that Hades Sinclair had orchestrated every piece of this game before I even stepped into his world.
My throat tightened as I stared at the ring, its sharp edges catching the light like a predator’s eyes. The contract lay open beside it, each word imprinted in my mind like a brand. A pen rested nearby, innocuous and waiting, yet it felt more like a weapon than an instrument of agreement.
I gripped the box tightly, my fingers trembling as I fought against the urge to drop it. The cold velvet pressed against my palm, grounding me even as panic threatened to unravel everything I had tried to hold together.
This wasn’t just about control; he wanted to own me. Legally. Permanently. The realization sent a jolt through my veins, electrifying my thoughts. I could almost hear Hades’ voice whispering in the back of my mind—his calm tone promising that this was only the beginning.
