The room felt colder after he left.
Or maybe…
It was just her.
She stood exactly where he had left her, her body stiff, her mind racing with a thousand questions. The place where his hand had rested on her waist still felt warm, like his touch had burned through her skin.
The memory burned.
Not just from anger.
But something else.
Something she refused to name.
Her fingers curled tightly, the nails digging into her palms as she tried to stop the tremor in her hands.
"No," she whispered to herself. "I won't let him get to me."
But the words felt hollow, like an empty promise.
She took a deep breath.
Then another.
Trying to steady herself. To gather the courage to leave this place, to escape the cage that had been built around her. But it didn't work. No matter how much she tried, she felt the suffocating weight of his presence—his power—lingering in the room. Everything about him haunted her.
His voice.
His eyes.
The way he had spoken to her, like she was nothing more than a pawn in his game.
It didn't matter what she said. He would always have the upper hand.
You're mine.
The words echoed in her mind, over and over. The way he had looked at her. Like she had no choice but to submit.
But she wasn't going to give in.
She couldn't.
The silence in the room was suffocating. It pressed against her, making it harder to breathe. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for something—anything—that could make her feel less like a prisoner. But all she saw were the golden lights, the pristine furniture, the luxurious decor that only served as a reminder that she was no longer free.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she moved to the window. The city spread out beneath her, the skyline shimmering in the fading light. She could almost taste the freedom outside those walls, but it felt like a world she could no longer reach.
A cold breeze blew in as she opened the window, the chill of the night air brushing against her face. For a moment, she closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to be out there, to run far away from this place. But when she opened them again, the truth settled in.
She couldn't leave.
Not yet. Not when he controlled every part of her life now.
A soft knock at the door pulled her back to reality. Her hands trembled as she wiped away the tear that had slipped down her cheek, unwilling to let herself appear weak.
She couldn't afford to show any weakness. Not now.
The door creaked open, and the maid from earlier stepped inside, her expression unreadable. "Miss, if you need anything…"
She didn't let the maid finish. "I need to leave," she said firmly, her voice shaky but strong.
The maid hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Miss."
"I don't care," she snapped, her anger rising again. "I won't stay here. I won't be a prisoner."
The maid shifted uncomfortably but didn't speak. The tension in the room thickened, and it took everything in her not to scream.
But the maid wasn't her enemy. Damien was.
He was the one who had betrayed her, the one who had trapped her in this gilded cage. And she was going to make him regret it.
She turned away from the maid, trying to control the storm of emotions raging inside her. Her heart was torn in two—half of her still wanted to believe that there was some explanation for all of this, that there was some reason why he had done this to her.
But the other half of her… the one that had always trusted him, loved him like a father… that part of her had already shattered.
The door closed behind the maid, leaving her alone with her thoughts once again. She couldn't stay in this room, in this prison, any longer. She needed answers. She needed to confront Damien, to demand why he had sold her off to a stranger.
Her mind raced as she paced the room, her heart heavy with the weight of it all. The only thing she knew for certain was that she couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let herself be broken by him.
She was stronger than this.
Minutes later, she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart skipped. Was it him?
The door creaked open again, and her breath caught in her throat as Damien walked into the room. His dark eyes locked onto hers, his gaze unreadable, as always.
"What do you want?" she demanded, her voice a little firmer than she felt.
He didn't answer immediately. He stepped into the room, the door shutting softly behind him.
"You want answers?" he said, his voice low. "You want to understand?"
She nodded, her fists clenched at her sides. "Yes. I deserve to know why. Why you did this to me."
Damien took a slow step toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. "Because I'm doing what's necessary. You don't understand yet, but you will."
Her pulse quickened as she stepped back, trying to put distance between them. "You think I'll ever understand? After what you've done to me?"
He didn't flinch, didn't move an inch closer. Instead, his eyes softened slightly, though his expression remained cold. "I'm giving you a life you would never have had on your own. You may hate me now, but in time, you'll see the truth."
She shook her head, tears of frustration welling in her eyes. "You've ruined my life. I won't forgive you."
Damien's gaze darkened. "You don't need to forgive me." He paused, his voice lowering. "You'll learn to accept me. Whether you like it or not."
She recoiled at the finality in his tone, but something about the way he said it made her feel even more trapped.
Damien turned and walked to the door without another word. As he reached for the handle, he paused, looking back over his shoulder. "And remember, I always get what I want."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Her chest tightened as she stood in the middle of the room. She was alone again, but the weight of his words lingered in the air like a dark cloud.
He's right.
She was already his.
And there was nothing she could do to change it.