The car pulled up to the mansion. My stomach twisted as I watched the familiar gates swing open, but I didn't speak. Without a word, I slipped inside, ignoring Enzo's presence for the moment, and went straight to my room.
I shut the door behind me, letting out a long, shaky breath. The room felt suffocating now, familiar yet foreign. I sat on the edge of the bed, fists clenched, trying to steady my racing heart.
A knock at the door. His voice followed, low and controlled.
"Kayla… may I come in?"
I didn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch. When I finally spoke, my voice was firm, sharp.
"Why, Enzo?"
There was a pause. Then, confused, he stepped inside, eyes narrowing slightly. "Why… what do you mean?"
I met his gaze, trying to make him understand. "This… deal your father made, whatever arrangement he expects between us—I don't know anything about it. And even if I did, I wouldn't agree to it. It's between me and him, not between me and some agreement you think I should follow."
Enzo blinked, clearly thrown off. "I… I don't understand. You're saying—"
"I'm saying I'm human, Enzo," I interrupted, voice rising slightly. "I'm not some object to be traded or handed over. You can't decide my life because your father wants something. I have a choice, a will. And I won't let anyone—"
I paused, catching my breath, realizing I'd raised my voice. He stared at me, silent, trying to process, his usual calm and control faltering just slightly.
"You don't… understand," he finally said, voice low, clipped. "This isn't about… choices. It's about survival, duty—"
I shook my head, stepping closer. "Survival? Duty? You think that gives him the right to decide for me? You think that gives you the right? No. This… this is my life, not yours. Not his."
He stared at me, eyes dark, unreadable. I could see confusion flicker there—the first real crack in his composure. He didn't know what to say, couldn't figure out where I was coming from.
I took a step back, folding my arms, heart pounding. "I'm not yours to control. I'm not anyone's deal."
The silence stretched between us, heavy, tense. And for the first time, I felt… that maybe he didn't have all the answers, that maybe he wasn't untouchable after all.
Tears streamed down my face before I could stop them. My chest heaved as I sank onto the edge of the bed, trying to catch my breath.
"I… I heard you… and my father… on the phone," I whispered, voice trembling. "About the deal. I know everything, Enzo. I… I can return your money. Just… just please… let me go."
I buried my face in my hands, the sobs shaking my body. "I can't… I can't do this anymore. I… I'm not… I'm not some object to be traded! I… I'm human! I can't…"
The words poured out, raw and desperate, a torrent of fear and helplessness. I didn't care about pride, or control, or appearances anymore. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to be free from the weight of their expectations, from the cruel demands of men who thought they could decide my life.
I felt his presence behind me before I even heard him move. I didn't look up, couldn't. My heart pounded, but part of me was terrified of his reaction.
Enzo's voice was low, measured, but there was something in it—something I hadn't heard before. Not anger, not cold control. Confusion. "Kayla… I—"
"I can't!" I cried again. "I'm not… I can't do this. I can't be part of this deal!"
Silence followed. And then, soft, deliberate footsteps. He stopped a few feet away, his shadow falling across the bed.
"I… don't understand," he said finally, voice flat but strained. "Why now? Why tell me this?"
I shook my head, voice cracking. "Because I can't… I can't live like this, Enzo. I can't pretend. I can't… obey blindly. I… I'm not… I'm not yours to command!"
His eyes softened slightly—not much, just enough for me to notice—but his expression was unreadable, still holding that calm, controlled mask.
"I… I don't know what to do with you," he admitted quietly, almost to himself. "You… you're different than I expected."
I swallowed, exhausted, trembling. "I'm just human, Enzo. I… I'm just human."
The words hung in the air between us, raw and undeniable. And for the first time, I realized—maybe for the first time—he didn't have all the answers either.
Enzo POV
I remained silent for a moment, watching her trembling figure. Her confession had shaken something inside me—not fear, not annoyance, but… confusion. Anger. Relief. I couldn't tell. She was raw, human, real. Unlike anyone I had dealt with before.
Finally, I spoke, voice calm, measured, but softer than usual. "Kayla… I'm not going to force you to do anything against your will. I won't."
Her head lifted slightly, eyes wide, searching mine as if hoping to believe me. I continued, still careful, still in control, yet something in me loosened. "But… for now, you have to comply. You have to act… behave as a good wife. Just… until I can find a solution."
Her lips trembled, and then, without warning, she threw her arms around me.
I froze. The weight of her hug, desperate and vulnerable, pressed against me. My mind blanked for the first time in years. I didn't know how to react. She was crying softly, clinging to me like if she let go, the world might crush her.
I stood stiff, unsure. I had never been hugged like this—not with trust, not with plea, not with human fragility. My instincts screamed to step back, to maintain control. But something in me… couldn't.
"Kayla…" I muttered, voice rough, almost unsure.
She buried her face into my chest. "Thank you… thank you, Enzo. I… I trust you," she whispered, voice muffled.
For a moment, I didn't move. The storm inside me—the duty, the power, the legacy—paused. All I could feel was the heat of her tears, the desperation in her embrace, and an unfamiliar pull in my chest.
I didn't know how long she stayed like that, clinging to me, but when she finally pulled back slightly, I could see the fear and hope coexisting in her eyes.
I nodded, rigid as ever, but my voice softened, just enough. "Stay calm. Do as I said… and I'll find a way. I promise."
She smiled faintly, tears still glimmering, and for the first time since this nightmare began, I felt… responsibility. Not just for duty or legacy. For her.