Chapter 9 - A Claim She Cannot Escape
1268 Words
After lunch, the old lady rose with surprising energy for her age and disappeared into one of the side rooms. When she returned, her wrinkled hands carried a small velvet box. She opened it with a smile, revealing a delicate golden bracelet, its intricate design clearly old and precious.
This, she said softly, is the family heirloom. Every bride in our family wears it. And now, it belongs to you.
Arianne’s eyes widened. She immediately shook her head and whispered, No, I can’t accept this, Grandmother.
The old woman chuckled, unfazed by the refusal. With gentle insistence, she took Arianne’s hand and slid the bracelet onto her wrist. It is not for you to refuse, child. This is your place now. Wear it well.
Not wanting to disrespect the warmth in those aged eyes, Arianne bowed her head and let it rest on her wrist.
Just then, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced down and froze when she saw the name flashing on the screen. her elder brother. Panic rushed through her chest. She quickly looked up at the old lady. Please, excuse me, Grandmother. I have to answer this.
The old woman nodded kindly. Go, child.
Arianne stepped away into the hall, her trembling fingers gripping the phone as she picked up. Hello?
Her brother’s stern voice filled her ear, asking questions, giving orders, reminding her of obligations waiting at home. She responded softly, assuring him she was fine, until finally the line went dead.
Her hand dropped heavily to her side as she turned back toward the dining room. The warmth of the old lady’s gaze greeted her again, making her guilt heavier. I… I need to go back home now, she said quietly.
The old woman smiled knowingly, her amusement tempered with truth. This is your home from now on, dear.
Arianne bit her lip and lowered her gaze. She didn’t respond. The old lady only patted the back of her hand, whispering, “Good girl.”
At that moment, Damien walked in. His presence filled the room effortlessly, his eyes immediately finding hers. Arianne stood up quickly, her voice tight with nerves. I… I want to go back home.
He looked at her, his gaze sharp and unyielding, as though he could see straight into her soul. For a moment, she thought he would refuse. But instead, his lips curved into the faintest smile.
Okay, he said simply.
Turning to his grandmother, he added smoothly, I’ll drop her back home, Grandma.
The old woman nodded with satisfaction. Arianne bent slightly to greet her goodbye, and the old lady pulled her into another warm embrace. We’ll meet again very soon, sweetheart.
Arianne forced a polite smile, her heart trembling, and followed Damien out. The crisp air outside hit her like a rush of freedom, but it did little to steady the storm inside her chest. The mansion loomed behind them, vast and suffocating, its grand doors closing as if sealing a fate she hadn’t agreed to.
Damien walked just a step ahead, his pace steady, his shoulders relaxed, as though the world was already moving according to his will. He reached the sleek black car first, opened the back door, and turned to her with a faint smile. Get in.
Her feet felt heavy, but she slid inside, clutching her purse tightly on her lap. The driver closed the door behind her, then Damien entered and settled beside her. The engine purred to life, and the car rolled forward, smooth and silent.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Arianne stared out the window, watching the mansion fade from view, her mind screaming at her to breathe. Relief trickled in slowly, at least she was leaving, at least she was heading back home. She told herself it was only a strange encounter, something she would never have to repeat again.
But then she felt his gaze.
Damien hadn’t looked away from her since they left the house. His eyes lingered, steady and unnerving, like a predator observing his prey with patient fascination. She shifted uncomfortably, gripping her purse tighter, refusing to meet his stare.
Finally, unable to bear the silence, she whispered, Thank you… for bringing me back.
He chuckled under his breath, low and amused. “Back?”
Her heart skipped. She turned sharply to him, her brows furrowed. What do you mean by that?
His lips curved, calm but resolute. Do you really think I’m the kind of man who shows his wife to the family, only to drop her off like nothing happened?
Her throat went dry. Damien, stop saying things like that. I never agreed
You didn’t have to, he cut in smoothly, Your presence today was enough. My grandmother accepts you.
That means you belong to me now.
Arianne’s pulse thundered. She pressed herself against the door, her mind spinning. The city lights were starting to appear in the distance, but instead of relief, dread coiled tighter inside her.
She tried to steady her voice. You can’t just decide something like that on your own.
Damien leaned back, his smile deepening, eyes glittering with quiet certainty. You’ll learn soon, Arianne. I don’t decide on my own, I simply make things happen.
The car rolled smoothly toward the city, but Arianne’s world felt anything but steady. Her fingers dug into her purse strap, knuckles pale, as if clinging to it would anchor her spinning thoughts. Every second in the confined space with Damien felt heavier, his quiet presence pressing in on her more than any words could.
Streetlights flickered past the windows, glowing like distant stars. She kept her gaze fixed outside, refusing to look at him, though she could feel the weight of his stare tracing every shift of her body.
When the car finally slowed in front of her family’s house, Arianne’s chest lifted with a rush of fragile relief. Home. Safe. Or at least, safer than wherever Damien’s shadow tried to claim her.
The driver pulled up neatly to the curb and stepped out, but before he could open the door, Damien reached across the seat and caught her wrist. His touch wasn’t harsh, but it was firm, possessive.
Her breath hitched.
You’ll see me again soon, he said, his voice calm, confident, as though it were a fact, not a promise. His eyes locked on hers, unblinking. Don’t run from me, Arianne. I don’t chase what already belongs to me.
Her throat tightened, but she forced words out, fragile and shaky. I, I don’t belong to you.
Damien’s lips curved into a faint smile, dark with amusement. You can keep telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better.
The driver opened the door then, breaking the charged silence. Damien released her wrist deliberately, as if granting her a momentary reprieve.
Arianne scrambled out, her legs unsteady, and clutched her purse to her chest. She didn’t dare look back at him, afraid of what she might see in those piercing eyes. The car waited, humming softly, but she rushed up the steps to her front door, heart pounding like she’d outrun a storm.
Only when she slipped inside her house and closed the door behind her did she let out the breath she’d been holding. Pressing her back to the wood, she slid down until she was crouched on the floor, her hands trembling.
Her mind raced. The mansion. The grandmother. The certificates. His words.
It was too much. Too fast. Too unreal.
And yet, her wrist still tingled where he’d held her, the echo of his touch burning like a brand she couldn’t erase.
- Writer
