Trapped in His Love

Chapter 3：The Ex-Fiancée

The service elevator descended in silence.

Sarah stood with her back against the cold steel wall, Kaelan's key pressing into her palm like a burning coal. Green sedan. Spot 28. Keys under the mat. He had planned this — a escape route ready before she even arrived. The realization should have made her feel trapped.

Instead, it made her furious.

She wasn't a painting to be hidden in a storage room. She wasn't a secret to be locked away because some woman from his past might throw a tantrum. Sarah had spent twenty two years being overlooked, underestimated and politely dismissed. She had earned her hunger for something real.

And Kaelan Vance, for all his silver eyes and whispered threats, had just tried to tuck her into a corner like a shameful thing.

The elevator doors opened onto the parking garage. Cold air rushed in. The blue sedan sat exactly where he had said it would, waiting like a good little getaway car.

Sarah stepped out of the elevator.

And walked straight past it.

She found the main lobby by following the emergency exit signs. The receptionist looked up, startled. The two security guards by the private elevator stiffened.

"Miss Lin," one of them said, stepping forward. "Mr. Vance instructed"

"I know what he instructed." Sarah smiled, pleasant and sharp. "But I left my scarf upstairs. Again."

She pushed the call button for the public elevators.

The guard reached for his radio. Before he could speak, the main glass doors of the tower slid open, and a woman walked in like she owned the building.

Celeste Wei.

Sarah recognized her instantly from the tabloids — the heiress to a luxury hotel chain, known for her razor-sharp cheekbones and colder reputation. She was tall, dressed in cream-colored silk that probably cost more than Sarah's annual rent, and she moved with the easy confidence of someone who had never been told no.

Her eyes swept the lobby, dismissed the receptionist, dismissed the guards — and landed on Sarah.

Paused.

"New staff?" Celeste's voice was honey laced with arsenic. "You're prettier than the usual secretaries. Try not to sleep with my ex-husband. He collects things."

Sarah's smile didn't waver. "I'm a painter. And he's not your anything."

Celeste's eyes narrowed. For a moment, the air between them crackled with something unspoken — recognition, perhaps. Two predators sizing each other across marble floors.

Then the private elevator opened, and Kaelan stepped out.

His face was a mask of ice. But his eyes— those silver eyes — found Sarah first. And in that single glance, she saw everything he was trying to hide. Fear. Fury. And beneath it all, a desperate, clawing need to pull her behind him and lock the world out.

"Celeste." His voice was flat. "You're early."

"I missed you, darling." Celeste glided toward him, arms open. "Three years is a long time to stay away."

She kissed his cheek. He didn't move. His gaze never left Sarah.

Sarah understood in that moment exactly what she was doing.

She was poking a dragon.

Not Celeste — though that woman was dangerous enough. No, she was poking Kaelan. Testing the chains of his control. Watching how much pressure it would take before the lock snapped.

Show me, she had said upstairs.

Now she would see.

"Excuse me," Sarah said brightly. "I should go. The scarf can wait."

She turned toward the public exit.

She made it three steps.

Kaelan's hand closed around her wrist —not hard, but immovable. His body blocked out Celeste, blocked out the guards, blocked out the entire world. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, meant only for her.

"You're not leaving."

"Your guest is waiting," Sarah said, just as quietly. "I wouldn't want to interrupt."

"You're not leaving."

Behind him, Celeste laughed. "Oh, how sweet. The little painter has a spine. Kaelan, you always did like fragile things you could break."

Sarah saw something shift in Kaelan's expression. A c***k. A flicker of the monster he kept caged behind his ribs.

"Celeste." His voice was soft now. Dangerously soft. "Go upstairs. Wait in my office."

"Or what? You'll have security drag me?" Celeste stepped closer, her smile poisonous. "I know about the cameras in her apartment, Kaelan. I know about the locked room. Do you think I came back without leverage?"

The parking garage. The blue sedan. The escape route he had prepared.

If she finds out about us, she won't come after me. She'll come after you.

Sarah finally understood.

Celeste wasn't his past.

She was his equal.

Kaelan released Sarah's wrist and turned to face Celeste. His posture changed.—shoulders wider, chin higher. The billionaire mask sliding back into place.

"What do you want?"

"Everything, as always." Celeste pulled an envelope from her clutch and pressed it against his chest. "Your grandfather's will had a clause you forgot about. The Vance fortune comes with a condition, darling. You have to produce an heir. And the mother has to be approved."

She glanced at Sarah, then back at Kaelan.

"I approved myself. Three years ago. The paperwork is still valid."

Sarah's blood went cold.

Kaelan didn't move. Didn't blink. But his hand found Sarah's again — not holding her back this time. Claiming her. Right in front of Celeste.

"I'm not marrying you," he said.

"You don't have a choice." Celeste smiled. "Unless you want to lose half your company. And everything your grandfather built." She tilted her head at Sarah. "But don't worry, little painter. I don't mind sharing. He's only engaged to me."

The word landed like a slap.

Sarah pulled her hand free. This time, Kaelan let her.

"I need air," she said.

"Sarah"

"Don't."

She walked toward the public exit, her heels clicking against marble. The guards didn't stop her. Celeste laughed, low and satisfied. And behind her, she heard Kaelan's voice — not cold anymore, not controlled.

Broken.

"Sarah. Please."

She pushed through the glass doors and stepped into the night.

Her phone buzzed immediately. Then again. Then a third time.

"Come back."

"I'll explain everything."

"She can't have me. Only you. ONLY YOU."

She stopped under a streetlamp and read the messages. Her hands were shaking. Her heart was pounding. She should call a cab. She should go home. She should paint this feeling before it swallowed her whole.

Instead, she typed back:

"Prove it."

The reply came in less than a second.

"Turn around."

She turned.

Kaelan Vance stood in the glass doorway of VanceCorp Tower, his tie loosened, his silver eyes wild. Behind him, through the lobby windows, she could see Celeste watching with a smile that promised war.

He walked toward Sarah like a man walking off a cliff.

When he reached her, he didn't speak. He just looked at her really looked and she saw the truth he had been hiding since the gallery.

He was terrified.

Not of Celeste. Not of losing his fortune.

Of losing her.

"One week," he said hoarsely. "Give me one week to end this. To prove that she's nothing. That you're everything."

"And if I don't?"

His hand cupped her face, trembling. "Then I burn it all down. The company. The fortune. Every brick my grandfather laid. I'll walk away with nothing but the clothes on my back and find you anyway."

Behind them, Celeste's silhouette raised a phone to her ear.

And on the other side of the street, a black van with tinted windows pulled up to the curb.

End Of Chapter 3 • To be Continued