My eyes fluttered open to a ceiling I didn't recognize, walls I didn't belong in, and silence that pressed down like a heavy curtain. My head throbbed, my body ached, and for a moment, I couldn't remember where I was… until it all came crashing back: the contract, the guards, his cold eyes.
I was in his house. His… mansion. My new reality.
I tried to sit, but my limbs refused. Panic fluttered in my chest. I had no idea where I was, what time it was, or whether he was watching me. The thought alone made my stomach twist.
A soft click echoed behind me. My head snapped toward the sound, and there he was,Dominic Veyron, standing in the doorway like a shadow carved from silk and steel. His presence filled the room before his words even reached me.
"Finally awake," he said, voice calm, almost casual, yet it carried the weight of command. "I expected you'd be more obedient in your recovery."
I shivered. "I… I'm sorry." The words felt useless now. Apologies had been ineffective before; they were useless here too, I realized.
He stepped closer, and even though he didn't touch me, the air around him seemed to tighten. I wanted to curl into myself, to disappear, yet something deep inside wouldn't let me fully retreat. My body reacted in ways I hated ,fear and… something else.
"You know," he said, leaning against the doorframe, "you look better when you're not screaming."
I bit back a retort, trembling. My pride screamed, but my body was too weak. "Why… why are you doing this to me?" I whispered, more to myself than him.
"Doing this?" He tilted his head, one eyebrow raised. "I'm only enforcing the rules. You signed the contract." The word signed hit me like a whip. I had agreed. I had condemned myself. But the anger that had been buried inside me stirred.
"It doesn't mean you can treat me like… like I'm less than human!". For a moment, he didn't move. His eyes darkened, and the room seemed colder. Then he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, and crouched slightly so we were eye-to-eye.
"You speak boldly," he murmured, "for someone who's powerless.
I wanted to shrink but a stubborn spark flared. "I may be powerless, but I'm not… yours to break."
His lips curved into a faint, sharp smile. "We'll see about that."
Silence fell, thick and heavy. I swallowed hard, heart hammering. This was my life now: trapped in his mansion, under his rules, under his eyes. A sudden knock at the door startled me. A guard stepped in.
"Dinner is ready," he said flatly.
Dominic's gaze lingered on me a moment longer. I shivered, a strange mix of fear and… anticipation curling in my chest. Then he straightened, clapped his hands once, and said, "Go. Eat. Training starts tomorrow."
Training? My stomach sank. Training to obey? To endure? I didn't know. I rose slowly, legs wobbling, each step a reminder of my helplessness, my new identity, my impossible circumstances. But as I glanced over my shoulder, I caught Dominic's reflection in the mirror ,poised, composed, a faint satisfaction in his dark eyes and something deeper, something personal that made my pulse stutter.
Even in that fleeting moment, I knew: tomorrow, I would have to face him again… and I wasn't sure I would survive it.