Defiance

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CHAPTER 9

I laid the last piece of clothing down on the bed and took a step back, surveying the ridiculous amount of clothes Damon had bought for me. 

From daring dresses to lacy undergarments, each item seemed to scream a challenge, pushing boundaries I wasn’t even sure I had. 

I hadn’t ever worn clothes like this in my life but when Damon picked each, he seemed to have me as a target in his mind. 

I reached down, picking up a dark red dress that looked like it belonged to someone bolder, someone who didn’t mind being seen. 

My fingers brushed over the soft, luxurious fabric, and I couldn’t stop the small thrill that raced up my spine.

Shaking my head, I tossed the dress aside, eyeing the black lingerie set sitting neatly on top of its box. 

The delicate lace seemed to mock me, and I felt a mix of dread and, embarrassingly, curiosity. 

I could practically hear Damon’s voice in my head, his cold command from the boutique still fresh in my mind. 

‘You’ll wear these for me. You’ll do exactly what I say.’

Heat prickled under my skin as I imagined his reaction to seeing me in something like that. My cheeks flushed, and I scolded myself. 

“Get a grip, Arianna.” I was letting him get under my skin, and he probably knew it, too. The thought alone made me clench my jaw.

I let the lingerie set fall back into its box, folding my arms across my chest as I tried to shake off the lingering tension. 

“Food.” I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off all of this—off him.

Crossing to the small kitchenette tucked into the corner of my room, I tried to ground myself. With a mini-fridge and a few snacks within reach, I could pretend I had some control here. I opened the fridge door, pulling out a container of yogurt, and snagged a spoon from the drawer.

I leaned back against the counter, letting the cool air from the fridge soothe me.

Every detail from the day replayed in my mind—Damon’s possessive tone, the way he’d looked at me when I’d protested, almost like he had something he needed to say but held back. 

His dark gaze lingered in my memory, and I cursed under my breath, annoyed at the effect he had on me.

“Damn it, Damon,” I muttered, stabbing my spoon into the yogurt.

He had a way of twisting up my thoughts, of making me question everything I thought I knew about myself. 

And yet, here I was, snacking in a room full of clothes he’d chosen, unable to shake him from my mind. I rolled my eyes at myself and took a bite.

Then, like a slow, creeping wave, reality hit. My uncle had sold me into this life, and right now, he was probably out there celebrating. 

Maybe he’d even had a drink to toast his newfound freedom, free from the burden of debts, while I was stuck here. 

My throat tightened at the thought, anger rushing through me. I should hate him, but all I felt was an empty ache that gnawed at me from the inside.

I stood with my yogurt and paced across the room, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me. 

The hours skidded by faster than I’d expected only to find out I'd slept off. 

Being bored wasn't exactly what I was used to. There was always work to be done to cater to my Uncle’s debt and my education. 

When I woke, the sun had set, leaving only the gray, oppressive clouds of Thania hanging in the sky. 

A knock at the door startled me, and before I could respond, it creaked open, revealing one of Damon’s men.

“Mr. Dark wants you to join him in his study,” the man said curtly with a blank face. No emotion. Just like Damon.

I nodded and followed him quickly, after pulling on a simple black dress from one of the clothes he bought me. It wasn’t revealing, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Everything about this place felt like a reminder that I wasn’t free. Not anymore.

When I stepped into Damon’s office, he was seated behind a massive mahogany desk, papers strewn in front of him. His cold eyes lifted as I entered, but he said nothing. Just a flick of his hand, gesturing for me to sit.

“These need organizing,” he said, his tone devoid of warmth. “Alphabetically. Don’t mix up the files, or we’ll have a problem.”

My jaw clenched. Really? Organizing papers? 

I bit back the retort that bubbled up, reminding myself that I needed to play along—for now. 

I walked over, sitting at the opposite side of the desk, and began sorting through the files, feeling his eyes on me the entire time. His gaze was like a weight, always watching, always assessing. I hated it.

As the minutes dragged on, my frustration grew. I was sorting through file after file, and every time I glanced up, Damon’s eyes met mine, like he was daring me to speak out. My fingers tightened around the papers, and finally, I snapped.

“This is pointless,” I said, tossing the file down. My voice was sharper than I intended. “I didn’t agree to be your personal assistant.”

Damon’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in the air between us. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at me, completely unfazed.

“Didn’t agree?” His voice was dangerously calm. “I thought we had an understanding.”

“An understanding that I’d be... what, organizing your files now? This isn’t what I signed up for,” I shot back, my chest tightening with anger.

Damon’s eyes darkened, the air in the room seeming to cool. He stood slowly, walking around the desk with that same predatory grace he always had. 

When he stopped in front of me, I had to tilt my head back just to meet his gaze.

“You seem to forget who’s in charge here, Arianna,” he said, his voice low. The sound of my name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine. “You belong to me. You do what I say. Or do you need a reminder?”

I stiffened, anger bubbling beneath the surface, but I bit my tongue. There was a fine line between defiance and stupidity, and I wasn’t ready to cross it. Not yet.

His gaze bore into me for a long moment before he spoke again, this time with a dangerous edge in his voice. “I won’t warn you again, Arianna. Do as I say, or next time, you’ll wish the punishment was as simple as sorting files.”

My heart raced, but I forced myself to stay calm, my defiance simmering just below the surface. I didn’t respond. I just picked up the next file and started sorting again, my hands shaking slightly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Damon’s lips twitch—barely a smirk like he was satisfied with my reaction. He turned and walked back to his desk, sitting down without another word.

But as I worked, the sound of his ringtone made me freeze as he answered the call. 

From the corner of my eyes, I noticed the change in his expression, his voice turning colder. 

“Yes? Any problem?”