"You do need me."
"No. You made me need me. There's a difference."
The silence stretches between us.
"You're right," he says finally. "I did make you need me. I orchestrated everything to ensure you'd have nowhere else to turn. And I'd do it again. Because I need you, Eve. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you."
***
In the car ride home, he hands me a sleek black phone.
"What's this?"
"Your new phone."
"No." I push it away. "No, absolutely not."
"Eve—"
"You've taken everything else, Nathan. You don't get this, too. Lucy is my best friend. She's all I have left—"
"You have me."
"You're my captor!" I'm shouting now. "You're the person who destroyed my life, not the person who saves it!"
Nathan's hand wraps around my wrist. "Take the phone."
"No."
"Take it, or I'll make sure Lucy loses her job at Sinclair Designs."
Horror washes over me. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
I take the phone with shaking hands, tears streaming down my face. "I hate you. I hate you so much."
"I know," he says softly. "But you'll adjust. You'll see that this is better."
I turn away, clutching the phone, staring out at the city lights blurring through my tears.
He's taken everything. My company, my freedom, my ability to contact the people I love.
And the worst part is that some tiny, broken part of me understands why.
Because I can't handle the fight anymore. I'm exhausted. And his cage offers something I haven't had in sixteen years.
Rest. Safety. Someone else carrying the weight.
But I won't forgive him for it.
"I'll stay," I say quietly. "I'll wear your clothes and live in your penthouse and be your perfect possession. But I will never forgive you for this. Never."
His hand finds mine, and I'm too tired to pull away.
"That's a start," he says.
As the car carries us back to his penthouse, I realize I've made my choice. Not meek surrender, but a different kind—angry, bitter, defiant.
