Chapter 11:You are mine
1093 Words
The morning air was crisp when Ellie stepped outside, the dew still clinging to the grass like forgotten dreams. She hugged the oversized cardigan tighter around her chest, the silence of the mansion weighing heavier than usual. After what happened last night — after what he said — she needed space. She needed clarity. She needed to remember who she was before Salvador Sinclair’s world had started swallowing her whole.
“You don’t belong in my world.”
The words echoed like a curse, more painful than she wanted to admit. Because a small, stupid part of her had wished she did belong. A part that remembered his warm hands on her hips. The way he said her name when no one was listening.
She walked further than usual, down the stone path that curved around the estate, past the carefully trimmed hedges and silent water fountains. Beyond that, a small iron gate stood half open — as if forgotten by whoever was meant to guard it. Past it lay the rear grounds. Somewhere she hadn’t dared to go before.
She crossed it anyway.
The hum of tires and the metallic click of a lighter pulled her attention. A sleek black car sat parked at the far end of a secluded garage. And next to it stood a man she’d never seen before.
Leather jacket. Dark stubble. He leaned against the hood like he owned the place, a cigarette perched lazily between his fingers. His gaze locked on her the moment she stepped closer.
“Well, well,” he murmured, blowing out smoke as he gave her a slow, unapologetic once-over. “Didn’t expect Sinclair’s little treasure to wander this far from the castle.”
Ellie stopped in her tracks. “Excuse me?”
“You’re the chef girl, right?” He smiled — cocky and charming in a way that felt practiced. “Ellie, isn’t it? I’ve heard so much about you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “From who?”
He didn’t answer, just flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot. “Word travels fast around here. Especially when someone like Salvador suddenly starts playing house with a pretty little thing like you.”
Ellie stiffened. She had no idea who this man was, but the way he talked — so familiar with Salvador’s name, so casual — made her uneasy. Still, she held her ground. “I’m just here temporarily. And you are?”
“Dante.” He offered the name like a dare, stepping closer. “Old friend. New enemy. Depending on the day.”
Before she could ask what that meant, a shadow passed between them.
Salvador.
He moved like a storm on the verge of breaking — suit half-buttoned, jaw clenched, eyes dark with restrained fury.
“Leave,” Salvador said coldly to Dante. “Now.”
Dante didn’t flinch. “Relax, Sinclair. I was just saying hello.”
“Don’t test me.”
For a moment, Ellie thought they might actually come to blows. Salvador’s hands curled into fists at his sides. Dante just laughed.
“Easy,” he said, already backing toward the car. “You’re more fun when you’re not trying to kill me.”
He winked at Ellie before sliding into the driver’s seat. “See you around, chef girl.”
Then he was gone, the car engine roaring as it vanished down the long drive.
Silence returned — but it was the tense, volatile kind.
“What were you doing down here?” Salvador demanded, turning on her.
Ellie folded her arms, chin lifting defiantly. “Walking. You don’t own the air.”
His eyes narrowed. “That man is dangerous.”
“And you’re not?”
He stepped forward, crowding her space. “Don’t play games with me, Ellie.”
“I wasn’t,” she snapped. “You told me to stay out of your world. So why do you care who I talk to?”
His hand moved so fast she didn’t see it — just felt the press of his fingers around her wrist as he pulled her toward the wall of the garage, pinning her there with his body.
The cold stone was at her back, his heat at her front, and her heart was suddenly thundering.
“I care,” he growled, “because he looked at you like you were his to touch.”
She stared up at him, breath shaky. “You said I don’t belong to you.”
His grip tightened, and his face dipped close — too close. His voice was barely a whisper, but it sizzled against her skin.
“I lied.”
Her eyes widened. “Salvador…”
“You’re mine,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous. “And if he ever comes near you again, I’ll rip out his tongue and feed it to him.”
She should have pushed him away. Should have slapped him, screamed at him, something — but her body betrayed her. Her pulse leapt. Her knees weakened. And when he moved even closer, his lips brushing just beneath her ear, her breath hitched.
But he didn’t kiss her.
Didn’t give her the satisfaction.
Instead, he pulled away like he hadn’t just branded her with the weight of his words. Like he hadn’t just confessed everything and nothing at once.
He left her there, trembling against the wall, with her heart still in his hands.
⸻
Later That Night
Ellie sat curled in bed, staring at the blank ceiling above her. The mansion was quiet again, but her mind wasn’t.
Salvador hadn’t spoken to her for the rest of the day. Not at dinner. Not even a glance when she passed him in the hallway.
It was like he was pretending again — like the possessive fire in his eyes earlier had never happened.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe she didn’t belong in his world.
Maybe she was a fool for thinking that the looks he gave her meant anything real.
She was about to turn off the lamp when something caught her eye — a slip of paper lying on the floor near the door.
She hadn’t heard anyone come in.
Heart thudding, she got up, picked it up, and unfolded it.
Only one line was scrawled in messy, masculine handwriting:
“You don’t belong here either. I can help you disappear — if you want.
—D”
Ellie’s hand trembled slightly as she reread it.
Her choices were becoming clearer — and more dangerous — by the second.
- Writer
