In His Debt

CHAPTER 4

Lena woke to the heavy weight of Roman’s arm draped across her stomach.

For a moment, she didn’t move — afraid that if she did, everything from last night would become even more real.

But it was already real.

The soreness between her thighs.

The faint bruises on her wrists.

The raw ache low in her belly.

Roman Wolfe had marked her. Owned her.

And part of her — the weak, desperate part — had wanted it.

Lena turned her head slightly.

Roman was still asleep, or at least pretending to be.

His dark lashes rested against his sharp cheekbones, his mouth relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen before. Without the hardness in his face, he almost looked... human.

Almost.

Carefully, Lena tried to slide out from under his arm.

But the second she moved, his hand clamped around her wrist like an iron shackle.

"Going somewhere, little one?" His voice was rough with sleep, but still full of steel.

"I... I need the bathroom," she mumbled.

Roman’s eyes opened — cold, grey, and fully awake now.

He studied her for a long, tense moment before releasing her wrist.

"You have five minutes," he said simply. "Don't make me come looking for you."

Lena scrambled off the bed, grabbing her torn clothes from the floor.

She found the bathroom and shut the door behind her, locking it with trembling fingers.

When she looked in the mirror, she barely recognized herself.

Her hair was wild. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. Faint red marks bloomed across her neck and chest — proof of what they’d done.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

What had she become?

She splashed cold water on her face, trying to steady her breathing.

This wasn’t love.

It wasn’t even lust.

It was survival.

Roman didn’t want her heart. He didn’t want her dreams or her fears.

He wanted her body.

Her obedience.

Her silence.

And she had given it to him.

Lena gripped the edge of the sink, shame burning through her.

But deep down, darker still, was the memory of how her body had responded to him. How easily he’d made her come undone.

She pressed a hand to her lips, trying to silence the sob rising in her throat.

A knock sounded on the door — sharp, impatient.

"Time's up," Roman called.

Lena wiped her face quickly and opened the door.

Roman leaned against the doorframe, his bare chest on display, his grey eyes hooded with something she couldn’t read.

Without a word, he grabbed her chin and tilted her face up to his.

"You’re thinking too much," he said quietly.

Lena didn’t answer.

Roman’s thumb brushed across her lower lip — a strangely tender gesture — before his hand dropped away.

"You’ll learn," he said simply. "Your body belongs to me now. Your thoughts will too."

The finality in his voice sent a chill through her.

Roman stepped back, giving her just enough space to move past him.

"You’ll stay here," he said, already pulling on a fresh shirt. "Until I decide otherwise."

Lena's heart twisted.

"Stay here?" she echoed, her voice small.

Roman’s eyes flashed with warning.

"I don’t trust you not to run," he said. "And I’m not done with you yet."

A knock came at the front door of the suite.

Roman grabbed a sleek earpiece off the dresser and answered in a low voice. After a short exchange, he turned back to her.

"Clothes are outside," he said. "Fresh ones. My driver will bring whatever else you need later."

Lena stared at him, feeling the cage closing in tighter.

"Roman, please..." she began, not even sure what she was begging for.

But Roman crossed the space between them in two strides.

His hand cupped the side of her face, not cruel, but firm.

"You made your choice," he said, voice deadly soft. "No backing out now."

His thumb brushed along her jaw, almost gentle.

Almost.

Roman pressed a kiss to her forehead — a shocking, almost tender touch — before stepping away.

"Behave yourself, Lena," he said with a dark smile.

"Or I’ll make you regret it."

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

And Lena was alone, trapped in the heart of the wolf’s den — with no way out.