4– Adaline

I’ve never felt this way… weak, dull, unable to properly move my limbs. My eyes flutter slowly, fighting to adjust to the dim light above me. I bink up at my ceiling. But it’s not really mine. This looks different, the color is off, the light too dim. And the sheets feel different—smoother, silkier. Not like my usual fluffy ones.

I shift slightly in bed with a strained groan and the dullness of my limbs drives tears out of my eyes. Is this what it feels like to die? Am I having a nightmare? My mind floods with thoughts as I move again, my eyes finally opening fully. 

Gritting my teeth, I try to move again, exhaustion keeps me down, my vision blurring, almost dragging me into an unconscious state. I blink hard, fighting to stay awake. It already feels like I’ve slept longer than I’m supposed to.

“How are you feeling, Adaline?” 

I hear a thick voice, immediately feeling firm fingers stroking my hair. The touch is so soft and gentle it almost makes me sick. My stomach twists as I try to understand. Wait… I know that voice. I’ve heard that voice say my name in this… way that borders on need and affection but also intimidating. 

My heart skips a beat and for a moment, I’m unable to find the ability to breathe. Then fury surges through me with so much force that I jerk away from the hand, forcing myself to sit up. 

I wince as pain slams into my head, but I’m too infuriated to focus on the pain.

“What are you doing here?” My voice is hoarse, my throat too dry, making me force down a swallow of whatever is left of my saliva.

Michael Black says nothing. He stares at me silently for a moment before shifting closer and threading his fingers through my hair one more time.

“Where am I?” My voice is firmer, my words rushed as panic settles at the pit of my stomach.

He’s still silent. 

I slap his hand away from my hair and yell out, “What did you do to me, you asshole!”

Michael exhales a long breath through his nose, his features relaxed as though he’s unbothered. He reaches a hand out and tucks the wild strands of my hair behind my ears.

 “Take it easy, Ada, or you’ll hurt yourself.” he says with a casual tone, his eyes laced with concern.

Something in me snaps.

“Hurt myself?!” I scream, my voice shaking with rage as I shove his chest with the little strength I have. “You already hurt me, you fucker! What have you done to me… to make me feel so sick!”

Michael’s lips twitch at my outburst like he’s having fun, like driving me out of my skin is a new found form of pleasure for him. “Easy, little bird. You’re still weak.” he says on a hushed tone, his eyes teasing. 

A shiver shoots down my spine and I grit out, “Where am I?” 

He leans back, his eyes trained on me as though gauging what my reaction will be as he slowly drawls out two words. “Las Vegas.”

I blink, my mouth hanging open as I stare at him. My mind is confused, something is wrong with me because I’m starting to hear things. I raise my brows, silently asking him to tell me something, anything that isn’t what he just said—or anything that tells me this is a big joke.

He doesn’t speak, just nods once, confirming the question my mouth is unable to conjure. It sinks in and it’s not the best feeling in the world.

Las Vegas.

“You drugged me…” It’s more of a statement than a question. And Michael’s silence confirms my biggest fear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” My voice comes out strangled, disbelief morphing my face. “You brought me on a trip without my consent?! Is this how you want this relationship to be? You just force me to do things whenever you like? Drug me and fly me wherever you want?”

My breathing is ragged, my heart leaping into my throat and pounding my mind into dizziness. Michael doesn’t flinch at the harshness in my voice or the disgust in my eyes. He’s calm, indifferent about what he’s done like he doesn’t understand the gravity of drugging and kidnaping someone. Or maybe he understands the gravity but is refusing to acknowledge it.

Maybe he just doesn’t care.

“It’s Las Vegas, little bird. You’ll have a good time.” He tells me as if that justifies drugging and kidnapping me.

Laughter thunders out of my throat before I can even stop it, my shoulders shaking with each wave of the disturbing sound that vibrates through me. 

“I don’t care to have a good time!” My voice is laced with every ounce of rage clawing at my insides. “I care that you’re taking my freewill away from me!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but the loud blaring of his phone echoes through the room and he grabs the device off the night stand and answers, pressing it into his ear. He’s talking, but I barely register whatever he’s saying to the person on the call because I'm just now realizing that this man slept with me on the same bed. 

Not only did he kidnap me, he had the audacity to share a bed with me. 

Tears gather in my eyes as I blink up at him. His eyes meet mine and his brows form into a furrow, then his jaw drops as I bring the duvet up my chin, shielding myself.

“I’m not a rapist,” he says, his voice laced with disgust. “I’ll do no such thing to you, Ada.”

“You drugged me. I wouldn’t put it past you.” I tell him as tears flood out of my eyes, wetting my cheeks and falling onto the duvet.

Silence envelops us with Michael’s eyes on me, his expression now more apologetic than indifferent. Slowly, he walks to the couch, picks up his shirt and puts it on before turning to face me again.

“Your friend… Kate,” he whispers. “She’ll be joining you shortly. And while I’m away doing business, you both can tour the city, have fun. I’ll make a credit card and a car available for when you eventually decide to go shopping later today and clubbing at night.”

 “I don’t want to—”

He cuts me off. “Let loose, little bird, and have fun. I’m not out to harm you—I might’ve approached this wrongly, but I have good intentions.”

“You keep telling me to have fun, what if I decide to go home with another man from the club?” I ask, enjoying the way his jaw locks and regret flashes his eyes.

He loathes that he’s given me freedom and now, I’m planning on using it to hurt… him? Or his manly ego?

Michael prowls forward, precise steps leading him to the bed. He leans down and plants a kiss on my temple and I don’t even have it in me to flinch away. I like the feel of his bodily warmth close to mine, the feel of his lips against my skin. 

He leans into the shell of my ear and whispers with a threatening voice. “You have the right to do whatever you want except consorting with other men, Adaline Black. Don’t do something that’ll land you and whoever the fuck you do it with in the darkest side of trouble.”

“It’s Adaline Daniels.”

“It’s what I say it is.” Michael says as he straightens himself and walks out of the room. 

As I stare at his retreating back with a realization that the man I’m marrying might be controlling, I make a decision to call off engagement.

I will not marry Michael Black. Question is, how do I call off this engagement without awakening the dark side of him I know he’s keeping locked. Because from what I see in his eyes, Michael Black has claimed me as his, and I don’t think he’ll let anyone take me away from him.

Not even me.