As the plane touched down and rolled to a stop, the tension in my body reached a fever pitch. I felt like a prisoner being transported to a new cell, and the man beside me was my warden. He stood up and reached for my hand, his grip firm. “Come, wife,” he said, his voice a dangerous whisper. I followed him out of the plane, my heart pounding in my chest. The night air was cool and filled with the scent of rain, but it did little to calm my nerves. A sleek, black car waited on the tarmac, its windows tinted and intimidating. He opened the door for me, and I hesitated for a moment, the urge to run overwhelming. But his eyes were locked on me, daring me to disobey. With a resigned sigh, I slid into the backseat, and he joined me a moment later. The drive to his mansion was silent. The only sound was the hum of the engine and my own racing thoughts. When we finally arrived, the grandeur of the place was almost suffocating. Tall iron gates swung open to reveal a sprawling estate.
I woke up the next morning with the pale light of dawn seeping through the heavy drapes. Every part of my body ached, but the worst of the pain throbbed between my legs, a cruel reminder of the previous night’s horrors. As I tried to shift on the bed, a wave of nausea swept over me, and I closed my eyes, willing myself to stay calm. The room was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that came after a storm. I was alone, but the presence of his cruelty lingered, a suffocating weight that pressed down on me. I forced myself to sit up, biting back a groan as pain shot through my body. Each movement felt like a battle. Slowly, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, wobbling slightly. The room spun for a moment, but I steadied myself, taking deep breaths. I glanced at the large wedding picture on the wall, my face staring back at me with that forced smile. It felt like a mockery, a reminder of the life I was now trapped in. I made my way to the bathroom, each step a painfu
GRAYSON'S POV I leaned back in my leather chair, gazing out the office window at the bustling cityscape below. The phone felt heavy in my hand, my eyes glued to its screen. My men conducted business in the background, their voices a distant hum as I focused intently on the live feed from my new wife. Florence handed her the phone, and I watched as she clutched it, rushing to the bedroom. This moment was carefully orchestrated; I knew exactly what she would do once she had her phone back. As she unlocked it, a glimmer of hope lit up her eyes. She went straight to her contacts, pausing with her finger hovering over her brother's name, her face a portrait of desperation. I smirked, satisfaction swelling within me. My fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk as I savored her internal struggle, each second dragging out the tension. Just as she was about to press 'call,' I rang her phone. The sudden ring startled her, and I watched the fleeting hope drain from her face as my name, save
GRAYSON I climbed into the car, slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the windows. Ariana's eyes widened with fear as I jammed the key into the ignition and floored the gas pedal, the tires squealing as we shot forward. Rage surged through my veins, clouding my judgement. Ariana's screams pierced through my anger, her voice barely audible over the roar of the engine. "Slow down!" she shouted, gripping the edge of her seat. "You're going to get us killed!" Her words only fueled my rage. My knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as I tore through the city streets, weaving in and out of traffic with reckless abandon. "Fine! Do whatever you want!" she yelled, her voice cracking with fear. "But if something happens to this thing I'm carrying, it'll be on you. And I'll be just fine." That did it. I slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a violent halt. Without thinking, I yanked her out of the car, my anger boiling over. "What did you just say?" I snarled, my v
ARIANA I felt him pull out of me abruptly, but the wave of excitement still coursed through my body, leaving me trembling and breathless. I couldn't think straight, couldn't understand why he'd stopped. My body was still riding high, the shivers of pleasure refusing to fade. But as the intensity subsided, reality came crashing back, and I cursed under my breath, cursing myself for what had just happened. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't how I ever imagined myself—over the moon, by the man I hated. My body had betrayed me, responding to his rough touch with a pleasure I didn't want to acknowledge. Why had I come so hard? Why? The questions gnawed at me, shame and disgust swirling in my mind. How could I have let this happen? As I struggled to process it all, I felt him turn toward me. My heart raced, but not with the same fervour as before. This time, it was fear and humiliation. I kept my eyes shut tight, refusing to meet his gaze. I couldn’t bear the thought of
ARIANA I forced a smile, struggling to conceal the unease twisting in my gut. Lucian's wife, however, was far less amused. Her gaze was like icy daggers, each one piercing straight through me. I wanted to look away, but I held her stare, refusing to let her see how much she intimidated me. "Shall we?" Lucian's voice shattered the tense silence. He extended an arm toward the grand staircase that spiralled up to the upper floors. Without waiting for a response, he led the way, his wife following closely behind. My husband's grip on my waist tightened as we began to ascend the stairs. I could feel his tension—the way his body seemed coiled, ready to spring at a moment's notice. It did nothing to calm my nerves. At the top of the staircase, a pair of heavy, ornately carved doors loomed ahead. With a flourish, Lucian pushed them open, revealing a grand dining room beyond. The table was set for an elaborate meal, but the atmosphere was anything but welcoming. At the head of the
ARIANA I felt her nails dig deeper into my cheeks, the sting making my eyes water. My heart raced, not just from fear but from the rising irritation building inside me. I couldn’t take much more of this. Gathering my strength, I grabbed her wrists, pushing her hands away with a firm, controlled force.“Listen, woman,” I snapped, my voice laced with irritation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care! Whatever your husband and—" I stopped myself just in time, the name 'Skyler' nearly slipping out. My heart pounded in my chest, but I couldn't let her see my slip-up. Her eyes narrowed, and she lunged at me again, her expression twisted with rage.But this time, I was ready. I caught her wrist in midair, gripping it tightly, and with a quick, deliberate motion, I pried her away from me with enough force to make her stagger back. Her eyes widened in shock, her stance faltering as she tried to regain her balance.“That’s enough!” I snarled, my patience gone, the
GRAYSON The defiance in her voice, the audacity to say no to me, ignited a fire I hadn’t felt in years. My hands stilled on the last button of my shirt, the fabric half-open, exposing the tattoos inked across my chest. Her refusal wasn’t just a word; it was a challenge—a direct affront to the control I held over her over everything. My jaw tightened as I watched her, her shoulders squared, her eyes locked onto mine with a mixture of fear and rebellion. She didn’t flinch, not even when the air between us crackled with the tension of unspoken threats. I could see her trembling, but she stood her ground, refusing to bend. The sight of her like this—angry, determined—was infuriating, but it also stirred something else inside me, something I couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore. I took a slow, deliberate step toward her, watching as her breath hitched in her throat. I could see the effort it took for her not to back away, to hold her ground even as I closed the distance between us. The