She opened her mouth to fire back—but no sound came out.
Because she knew.
Deep down, beneath all that fight?—
She was already halfway there.
“What happens when I refuse?” she finally bit out, arms crossing over her chest like she could armor herself against what came next.
I stepped forward again—slow, sure. “You won’t.”
The confidence in my voice was deliberate. Designed.
It didn’t just say I know you.
It said I own this.
“You’re already playing your part beautifully.”
She turned back to the mirror, like it could save her.
It wouldn’t.
Because the more she looked, the more she saw it:
The shift.
The pull.
And just before I let her breathe again, I stepped closer—let my presence slide in behind her like smoke curling around a flame.
“I can make you enjoy it,” I said, voice smooth as sin.
And she didn’t pull away.
Not right away.
Not until it was too late.
Chapter 9
Seph
I slid into the backseat; the door shutting behind me with a soft click. Hades sat there, his presence dominating the small space like a storm cloud ready to unleash. The air thickened around us, and my skin itched from the memory of the dress still clinging to me, a reminder of what I had been forced to accept.
Silence wrapped around us, heavy and suffocating. I said nothing, letting the tension build like static before a lightning strike. He remained calm, infuriatingly so. His indifference felt like a taunt, as if he found amusement in my turmoil—a private joke only he understood.
I focused on the view outside the window, watching streetlights flicker by like distant stars. My glare could have burned holes through glass. But even with my back turned, I could feel his gaze on me, hot and possessive. It was a weight that settled over my shoulders, igniting an anger I couldn’t afford to express.
What did he find so amusing? This was war—a battle for control—and I was determined not to be a pawn in his game. Yet there he sat, relaxed and unbothered as if this was just another mundane day for him.
A muscle in my jaw tightened as I clenched my fists in my lap. The silence grew louder with every heartbeat; it buzzed between us like a warning bell tolling for disaster.
Still, I refused to look at him directly. My defiance simmered beneath the surface like molten lava ready to erupt. He didn’t need to know how much his mere presence affected me—or how desperately I wanted to break through that calm facade of his.
The car pulled away from the curb, taking me further from my escape route and deeper into his territory. I fought against the rising tide of frustration threatening to spill over as we drove into an uncertain future together.
I turned my head slightly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a full look.
