Emily hadn't realized how big the house was until she tried to leave it.
After her encounter with Lucas that morning, her nerves had been shot. She'd paced her room for an hour before deciding she couldn't stay locked up another second. Whatever had happened, whoever he was — she needed to go home, call her sister, explain she was safe.
Except she wasn't safe. Not really.
When she finally stepped into the corridor, the silence was almost suffocating. The air smelled faintly of polish and rain-soaked wood. Her bare feet made no sound on the marble floor as she moved, heart hammering.
The hallway seemed endless — one door after another, all identical. When she reached the grand staircase, she could finally breathe again. She could see the front doors below — tall, carved, sunlight spilling over them like freedom itself.
She descended carefully, half expecting someone to stop her. But no one came.
Maybe they'd left. Maybe she could just walk out.
Her fingers brushed the cold metal of the handle.
"Going somewhere?"
Emily spun so fast her breath caught in her throat.
A man stood by the corner of the foyer — tall, sharp in a black suit, watching her with the faintest hint of amusement. He wasn't Lucas. But there was something about him that screamed the same kind of danger.
"I was just— I need to leave," she said quickly. "I have to call someone. My sister—"
"Mr. Vale gave instructions," the man interrupted politely. "You're to remain here for now."
Her stomach turned. "He can't just—"
"I'm afraid he can." His tone didn't waver. "Breakfast is served in the dining room if you'd like."
And with that, he stepped aside, gesturing toward a hall on her left.
Emily hesitated, then clenched her fists. "Fine. But I'm not staying here forever."
He said nothing — only watched her walk away.
---
The dining room looked like something out of a museum — long table, gleaming chandeliers, sunlight filtering through tall windows. A steaming pot of coffee sat beside an untouched breakfast spread that could have fed five people.
Emily sat down because she didn't know what else to do.
She wasn't hungry, but she poured herself coffee anyway, needing something normal. The silence pressed against her ears. Every tick of the clock sounded too loud.
When the door opened again, she looked up — and froze.
Lucas walked in.
Gone was the pale, injured man from the night before. He moved with quiet authority, dressed in black, his sleeves rolled up, a bandage still visible beneath his collar.
"Good," he said simply, glancing at the table. "You're eating."
"I wasn't sure I was allowed to," she said bitterly.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth — there and gone again. "You're not a prisoner, Emily."
Her eyes narrowed. "Really? Because your guard just told me I can't leave."
He took a seat across from her, calm as ever. "That's because you can't."
She scoffed. "So what would that make me, then?"
His gaze held hers, steady, unflinching. "Protected."
"Trapped," she shot back.
Lucas leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. "You have no idea what you saw that night. If I let you leave now, you'd be dead before morning."
Her stomach flipped. "What are you talking about?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee, movements slow, deliberate. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter — more dangerous.
"You think I was the only target on that street?"
Emily stared at him, her pulse quickening. "I don't even know who you are."
"Good," he said simply. "Keep it that way."
Her jaw clenched. "You're unbelievable."
Lucas's gaze flickered toward her — sharp but unreadable. "You saved my life. I don't take that lightly. But understand something, Emily — saving me made you part of a world that doesn't forgive curiosity."
Something cold unfurled in her chest.
"You can't keep me locked up because you have enemies," she said, trying to sound braver than she felt.
His lips curved slightly. "It's not for my sake."
For the briefest second, she saw something shift in his expression — something protective, almost soft — before it vanished behind the mask again.
He stood. "Stay inside. Don't talk to anyone unless they talk to you. You'll have everything you need."
"And how long do you plan to keep me in your mansion like a pet?"
That earned her a low chuckle. "Until I'm certain you won't end up on a morgue table."
Then he turned and left, the door closing with a quiet click.
---
Emily sat there, shaking. Not from fear this time, but from anger — and confusion.
She'd spent her life fixing broken people, patching wounds, stitching what was torn. But this man — Lucas Vale — didn't just bleed. He commanded. And the strange, terrifying part was that even as she hated him for it… something about him pulled her in.
Hours passed. She tried the door again. Still locked. She looked out the window — high walls, iron gates, guards who didn't look away.
She was trapped in a cage made of marble and money.
But Emily wasn't the kind of woman who stayed caged for long.
As night fell, she stood at the window, staring into the darkness. Somewhere beyond those walls was her life — her freedom. And she would find a way back to it.
Even if it meant crossing Lucas Vale to do it.