Sold to the scarred CEO

Chapter 3: The Fear’s Promise

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

I stayed in my room, pacing, thinking, planning. The door was still unlocked, but I didn’t leave. I didn’t want to run into the CEO again. I didn’t want to see that mask, feel that presence, hear that voice.

But avoiding him wasn’t an option.

Evening came, and with it, a knock on my door.

I froze. Who is it?

Dinner, the CEO’s voice replied.

I opened the door. He stood there, holding another tray. This one had soup, bread, wine.

I can eat in the dining room, I said.

He shook his head. Not tonight.

Why not?

Because I want to talk.

He pushed past me, setting the tray on the table. He didn’t sit. He just stood by the window, looking out at the darkening grounds.

Talk about what? I asked, closing the door.

About us.

There is no us.

There will be. He turned to face me, his mask catching the light. You’re my wife. That makes us… connected.

I didn’t choose this.

Neither did I.

I blinked. What?

He walked toward me, slow, deliberate. I didn’t choose you. Not specifically. I chose… a solution. A way to secure my position. To protect my company.

From who?

From the people who want me dead.

The words hung in the air, heavy and real.

I swallowed hard. Who wants you dead?

Does it matter?” He stopped just inches away, close enough that I could feel his warmth. “The point is, you’re part of the solution now. You’re my wife. That makes you a target.

A target?

Yes. He reached out, brushing his fingers along my arm. But don’t worry. I’ll protect you.

From who?

From everyone.

The words were supposed to be reassuring. But they felt like a threat.

Why are you telling me this? I asked.

Because you need to understand. His voice dropped, low and dangerous. You can’t leave. Not just because I won’t let you. But because it’s not safe.

Safe where?

Here. With me.

I stepped back, breaking his touch. I don’t believe you.

Believe what you want. He turned, walking toward the door. But don’t try to run. You won’t make it far.

He opened the door, then paused. Eat your dinner. I’ll send someone to collect the tray.

He walked out, closing the door behind him.

I heard the lock click.

I was trapped again.

I walked to the tray, picking up the wine. It was red, deep and rich. I poured a glass, drinking it slowly.

The wine was good. Too good.

I set the glass down, staring at the food. I wasn’t hungry. But I knew I needed to eat. To stay strong.

I picked up the spoon, tasting the soup. It was warm, comforting.

I ate slowly, my mind racing.

The CEO’s words echoed in my head. You’re a target. I’ll protect you. Don’t try to run.

Was he telling the truth? Or was it another manipulation?

I didn’t know.

I finished the soup, setting the bowl down. I walked to the window, staring out at the dark grounds.

Somewhere out there, freedom waited.

But I couldn’t reach it.

Not yet.

I turned, walking to the bed. I sat down, staring at the locked door.

I was trapped.

But I wasn’t broken.

I would find a way out.

I had to.

Because if I didn’t…

I’d become exactly what he wanted.

His wife.

His possession.

His forever.

And I wasn’t sure I could survive that.

I lay down, pulling the covers over me. I closed my eyes, trying to sleep.

But sleep didn’t come.

Instead, I dreamed.

I dreamed of running. Of freedom. Of a life without masks, without locks, without fear.

I dreamed of a man without scars.

A man who looked at me with love, not possession.

A man who let me go.

I woke up gasping, my heart racing.

The room was dark. The door was still locked.

I was still trapped.

And somewhere in the mansion, the scarred CEO was watching.

Waiting.

Planning.

Promising.

And I wasn’t sure I could survive his promises.