Chapter3
1003 Words
THE AFTERMATH
Valerie shoved him away the moment she regained control of her body.
Her lips were swollen, her breath uneven.
And Mason?
He looked completely unaffected.
He tilted his head, watching her with a knowing smirk, as if he had expected this reaction all along.
"That," she hissed, wiping her mouth, "meant nothing."
His dark gaze flickered, amusement deepening. "If you say so, darling"
Her nails dug into her palms. The worst part wasn’t that he had kissed her.
It was that she had kissed him back.
She had let herself get lost in his touch, in his dominance, in the way his body felt dangerously close to hers.
And she hated him for it.
Hated herself for it.
"I will never be yours," she spat, voice shaking.
Mason exhaled a low chuckle, stepping closer—too close. What was he doing?she thought.
She took a step back, and he took another step forward, with his hands wrapped around her waist to keep her from moving.
"You’re still fighting," he murmured, voice laced with dark amusement. "Good. I like when you fight me."
She glared at him, her pulse hammering. "You’re a monster."
His fingers moved from her waist,and brushed against her jaw, a featherlight touch that sent shivers down her spine.
"No darling," he whispered. "I’m worse."
Then, just as effortlessly as he had caught her, he let her go.
And that?
That was more terrifying than anything else.
Because Mason Kingston didn’t need to trap her.
He knew she was already losing the battle against him.
The next morning, Valerie woke to silk sheets and locked doors.
No escape.
Her lips still tingled from the kiss, a cruel reminder of her weakness. She condemned herself all night because of it.
Forget it. Forget him.
She pushed herself out of bed, determination settling deep in her bones.
She needed to stay focused. To find a way out.
But the moment she stepped into the walk-in closet, her rage boiled over.
Every single outfit hanging before her was designed by him.
Dresses. Expensive. Dark colors. Nothing of her own.
She grabbed the nearest dress and ripped it from the hanger.
And then another. And another.
Until the floor was littered with shredded silk and lace.
A knock at the door.
She turned, heart pounding.
The door creaked open, and Mason stepped inside.
Dressed in a crisp black suit, he looked completely unbothered by the destruction before him.
His eyes swept over the mess.
Then, slowly, he smirked.
"Throwing a tantrum, little kitten?"
Her fists clenched. "I won’t wear anything you bought me."
Mason exhaled a soft chuckle, stepping closer. "You’ll wear what I tell you to wear."
Valerie held her ground. "You don’t own me."
His gaze darkened.
In a flash, he had her pinned against the vanity, one hand gripping her chin, the other resting against her hip.
"Let me make something clear," he murmured, voice dangerously soft. "You are mine, Valerie. You became mine the moment your father handed you over."
His fingers slid lower, tracing the line of her throat, down to her racing pulse.
Her breath hitched.
"You can fight me," he continued. "You can hate me. But you will obey me."
She refused to look away, even as her pulse betrayed her.
Mason’s lips hovered just above hers, his breath warm against her mouth.
"Do you understand?"
Valerie swallowed hard, her body betraying her, her pride screaming. Something stupid crossed her mind.
So she did the only thing that she thought she could, even though she'd regret it.
She spat in his face.
For a single, terrifying moment, Mason didn’t move. She couldn't believe what she had done.
The air between them crackled.
And then, after preparing for the worst—
A sharp laugh. A long one at that.
Low. Dark. Amused.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, his smirk unchanged.
"Good," he murmured. "I would have been disappointed if you broke this easily."
Then, he stepped back, slowly retreating till his figure disappeared.
And Valerie?
She hated that she felt cold without his touch. Why did she feel that way?
That night, a maid escorted her to dinner.
The dining hall was grand, lined with gold and marble, but the table was set for two.
Mason sat at the head, watching as she approached.
She hesitated, wanting to turn back.
"Sit," he ordered.
She didn’t move, even though she was famished.
His gaze darkened. "Don’t make me repeat myself darling."
Valerie clenched her jaw, but she sat anyway, only because of the delicious looking meals staring at her.
A glass of red wine was placed in front of her.
She didn’t touch it.
Mason watched her with amusement. "You think I poisoned it?"
She slightly lifted up her chin. "Wouldn’t put it past you."
His smirk widened. "If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t need poison, trust me”.
A shiver ran down her spine.
He lifted his own glass, taking a slow sip. "Drink."
Valerie hesitated—then lifted the glass to her lips, never breaking eye contact.
If this was a test, she wouldn’t fail.The wine was smooth, rich. Expensive. f*****g expensive.
And yet, it tasted like a trap.
Mason leaned back in his chair, twirling his glass between his fingers.
"You still think you can escape me, don’t you?"
Valerie met his gaze, refusing to waver. "Yes."
A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips."Then I look forward to watching you try."
As dinner ended, Mason stood, moving toward her with leisurely confidence.
Valerie started to flinch, with fear clearly evident in her eyes.
She masked it off immediately.
He reached out, his fingers ghosting over her wrist.
"Run if you want," he murmured, voice like silk-wrapped steel. "But understand this my darling,I will always find you."
She swallowed hard, her pulse betraying her once again.
And then just like
that,he left.
Leaving her alone in a house where the walls whispered his name at every corner.
- Writer
