The first thing Elena noticed in the morning was silence.
Not the peaceful kind—this was controlled silence, the kind that existed only because someone had decided it should. Sunlight filtered through heavy curtains, painting the walls in muted gold. For a brief, fragile second, she almost forgot where she was.
Then she tried the door.
Locked.
Her fingers tightened around the handle as reality settled back into her bones. This was not a nightmare. This was a cage dressed like a palace.
A soft knock sounded behind her.
She spun around. "I said don't—"
The door opened before she could finish.
A woman stepped inside, older, calm, dressed neatly in black. Her eyes were kind but careful, like someone who had learned survival through silence.
"Good morning," the woman said gently. "I'm Sofia. I brought breakfast."
"I don't want it," Elena snapped.
Sofia didn't argue. She set the tray down anyway. "He said you'd say that."
That single word—he—made Elena's stomach twist. "Where is he?"
Sofia hesitated, then answered honestly. "Everywhere. And nowhere you need to worry about."
Elena let out a bitter laugh. "That's easy for you to say."
Sofia met her gaze, something sad flickering there. "I was you once."
Before Elena could respond, Sofia turned and left, locking the door behind her with practiced ease.
Elena sank onto the edge of the bed, staring at the untouched food. Her hunger was sharp, but pride was sharper. She wouldn't accept kindness that came from a man who had stolen her freedom.
Hours passed. Or minutes. Time felt distorted inside those walls.
When the door finally opened again, she didn't look up.
"You should eat."
Adrian's voice was calm, as if last night hadn't happened, as if her life hadn't been split into a before and after because of him.
"I'd rather starve," she said quietly.
He stepped into her line of sight anyway. Today he wasn't wearing a coat. Just a dark shirt, sleeves rolled up, revealing faint scars along his forearms—old violence, worn like history.
"You won't," he replied. "You're stronger than that."
She looked at him then, truly looked. "You don't get to decide what I am."
A muscle flexed in his jaw. "I already did."
He gestured toward the window. "Come."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"You are," he said, not raising his voice. "Because I said so."
Something inside her snapped—not fear this time, but fury. She stood abruptly. "You think controlling my body means you control me?"
Adrian stepped closer, stopping just short of touching her. "No," he said. "I think your mind is far more dangerous."
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, tension crackling between them like a live wire.
Then he surprised her.
He unlocked the door.
"You want to see where you are?" he asked. "I'll show you."
Suspicion warred with curiosity, but curiosity won.
The halls were vast, echoing, lined with dark portraits and guarded by men who watched her like she was precious cargo. No one touched her. No one spoke. Every step reminded her that this place answered to one man alone.
They stopped on a balcony overlooking the estate. Beyond the gates, the world stretched free and unreachable.
"You could run," Adrian said quietly.
Her heart jumped. "Then why don't I?"
He leaned closer, his voice low. "Because you wouldn't make it past the gates. And because part of you already knows—running from me won't save you."
She hated that her chest tightened at his words.
"I didn't choose you," she whispered.
Adrian's gaze softened just a fraction. "Neither did I."
That was the most frightening part of all.
As he turned to leave, Elena realized something with chilling clarity—
This wasn't just captivity.
This was the beginning of a war between her will and his obsession.
And neither of them planned to lose. 🖤