Chapter5
909 Words
CHAINS OF SILK
The moment Mason carried her back inside, Valerie knew she had made a mistake.
Not because she had tried to escape, no–she would never regret that.
But because she had underestimated him.
She had thought she was watching him.
But the whole time, he had been watching her.He fooled her, and she hated him for it.
She hated him for a lot of things.
And now, she was back in his world.
And this time, she feared he wouldn’t be as forgiving as he was before.
Mason didn’t speak as he carried her through the estate, his grip firm but effortless.
She struggled—kicking, twisting, shoving against his chest.
"Put me down!" she hissed angrily.
He didn’t react. Didn't even flinch.
Didn’t tighten his grip. Didn’t seem annoyed.
Which only made her even more furious than she already was.
Finally, as they reached her room, he pushed open the door with one hand and stepped inside.
Then, without warning—he dropped her.
She stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the bed, her breath ragged.
By the time she turned to glare at him, Mason had already stepped back, blocking the doorway.
She met his gaze, bracing for his fury.
Instead—
He smirked.
"Did you have fun?" he asked, voice smooth, almost amused, as if he was laughing at her.
Her nails dug into the sheets. "You’re f*****g sick."
He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You keep saying that everytime like it’ll change something, sweetheart.
Valerie clenched her jaw.
"You knew," she accused. "You let me run."
Mason tilted his head slightly. "Of course."
Her stomach twisted.
"You wanted me to fail."
Mason stepped closer, slow,deliberate. "No," he murmured. "I wanted you to see."
"See what?" she spat.
His gaze darkened.
"That no matter how far you run, how hard you fight—"
His fingers brushed under her chin, tilting her face upward to meet his eyes.
"You will always belong to me."
She immediately slapped his hand away.
His smirk didn’t fade.
"Are you going to lock me away now?" she taunted. "Keep me chained like some animal?"
Mason studied her for a long moment.
Then, to her shock—he stepped back.
"No," he said simply.
Her brows furrowed. "What?"
Mason shrugged. "You want to run? Run."
Her breath caught.
His voice was casual. Unbothered.
But his eyes—they burned.
"You want to fight me? Do it. Hate me. Curse me. Try to escape again if you like."
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper.
"But understand this, Valerie—"
His fingers ghosted over her wrist, his grip barely there.
"You are still mine."
Her pulse hammered.
Because the way he said it was so certain, so absolute—
Terrified her more than any locked door ever could.
Because a cage of gold and silk was still a cage.
And Mason Kingston was still the devil holding the key.
The next morning, Valerie was woken by a knock.
A maid entered, setting down a tray of food before quietly leaving.
She frowned.
No guards.
No threats.
Something wasn't right.
She hesitated—then picked at the food, her mind racing.
Something was different.
Something was changing.
After finishing, she stepped toward the door, testing the handle.
Unlocked.
Her heart pounded.
Slowly, carefully, she pushed the door open—and stepped out.
For the first time since she had arrived, the halls were empty. Totally and completely empty.
No guards blocking her way.
No eyes watching her every move. How?
Was this freedom?
No. It couldn't be.
It could be a disguise, or better still—
A trap.
She walked slowly, her bare feet silent against the cold marble floors.
And then—she heard it.
Voices.
Low. Dangerous.
Coming from Mason’s study.
She moved closer, pressing herself against the wall, listening. Careful not to be seen or heard.
Inside, Mason’s voice was calm. Controlled.
But laced with something lethal. Something very fearful and domineering.
"You failed," he said.
Another voice—nervous. Trembling.
"Boss, please—"
A single gunshot rang through the air.
Valerie’s blood ran cold.
She clamped a hand over her mouth, heart hammering. She couldn't believe what she just heard.
Silence followed.
Then—Mason spoke again.
"Clean it up."
Her stomach twisted, not with fear but with pain.
She had seen the way people feared him. The way his men obeyed without question.
But she had never seen him kill.
Not until now.
A shiver ran down her spine.
She should have felt horror.
Fear.
But what scared her the most?
Was the fact that part of her—was intrigued. And she thought she was clearly out of her mind.
That night, Mason found her in the library.
She sat by the fireplace, staring into the flames, lost in thought.
He stepped inside, his presence suffocating.
"You’re quiet tonight," he murmured.She didn’t turn. "I heard what you did."
Mason exhaled softly.
"Did you?" he mused.She finally looked up, meeting his gaze.
"Did he deserve it?" she asked.
Mason studied her.Then, after a long pause—he smiled.
A slow, knowing smile.
"You’re not afraid of me," he murmured.
She didn’t answer. No she wouldn't.
Because he was right.
She should be afrai
d.She should want to run.But the more time she spent in his world—
The more she felt herself becoming a part of it.
- Writer
