In His Debt

CHAPTER 5

The suite was too quiet after Roman left.

Too big.

Too full of the lingering scent of him.

Lena sat on the edge of the massive bed, the new clothes he’d sent laid out neatly beside her — soft cotton, silk, expensive.

Everything about this screamed possession.

She stared at the door, her mind racing.

She could leave.

She could slip out, find an elevator, disappear into the city.

Sure, he had money. Connections. Power.

But he couldn’t own her if she didn’t let him.

Lena stood slowly, her body sore but steady.

Every step toward the door felt heavier. Her hand hovered over the handle.

It was stupid.

Suicidal, even.

But Lena needed to know if this was real.

If she was truly a prisoner — or just a kept woman in a gilded cage.

She turned the handle.

To her shock, it wasn’t locked.

The hallway beyond was empty.

For a moment, her heart soared.

She took one step out, then another.

The hotel corridor was silent except for the faint hum of distant elevators.

Maybe she could do it. Maybe she could—

A shadow moved.

A man in a dark suit stepped from around the corner, blocking her path.

He was big — not as tall as Roman, but solid, imposing.

An earpiece gleamed in his ear.

"Going somewhere, Miss Lena?" he asked politely, though there was a threat behind the smile.

Her stomach dropped.

Roman had expected this.

He had posted guards.

Without waiting for her answer, the man reached for a small device on his belt — a radio.

"She tried to leave," he said into it.

Within seconds, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Lena turned — and there he was.

Roman.

His face was unreadable. His grey eyes colder than she had ever seen.

He dismissed the guard with a jerk of his chin.

Then he stalked toward her.

Lena backed up instinctively — but there was nowhere to run.

Roman grabbed her wrist — not cruel, but firm enough to make her gasp.

Without a word, he dragged her back into the suite.

The door slammed shut behind them.

The silence between them was a living thing — thick, suffocating.

Roman released her wrist.

For a terrible second, Lena thought maybe he wasn’t going to say anything at all.

But then he spoke — low, quiet, lethal.

"You thought you could leave me," he said.

It wasn’t a question.

It was a statement of betrayal.

Lena opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Roman’s hand closed around her throat — not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her how easily he could.

His thumb brushed over her racing pulse.

"You think I won’t punish you for this?" he murmured.

Her knees trembled.

Roman pushed her backward until the backs of her legs hit the bed.

He shoved her down onto it, standing over her like a dark god.

"You belong to me," he said, voice deadly soft.

"And now you’re going to learn what happens when you forget that."

He stripped her clothes off with ruthless efficiency — every tug and rip making her gasp.

When she was bare before him, Roman stepped back, his gaze raking over her trembling form.

"On your hands and knees," he ordered.

Lena hesitated — just for a second.

Roman’s hand tangled in her hair, forcing her down.

"Now," he growled.

Shaking, she obeyed.

Roman undressed with slow precision, letting her hear every slide of fabric, every heavy step closer.

Then he was behind her, one hand gripping her hip brutally hard.

Without warning, he pushed inside her in one rough thrust.

Lena cried out — the force of it tearing another broken sound from her throat.

Roman didn’t pause.

He set a brutal rhythm, slamming into her over and over, forcing her body to accept him, to yield to his dominance.

"This," he ground out between thrusts, "is what you earn when you defy me."

His hand snaked around her front, fingers finding her sensitive nub, circling it mercilessly.

Lena’s mind shattered under the onslaught — the punishing pleasure, the ruthless possession.

She came hard, sobbing his name, but Roman didn’t stop.

He kept going, driving into her again and again until her body gave him another climax — and another — leaving her wrecked and gasping.

Only then did he spill inside her with a savage groan, his hands clamping down on her hips like iron.

When he finally pulled out, Lena collapsed onto the bed, boneless and broken.

Roman loomed over her, breathing hard.

He dragged her into his arms, cradling her against his chest almost tenderly.

"You’re mine," he whispered against her sweat-damp skin.

"And there’s nowhere you can run where I won’t find you."

Lena closed her eyes, the last of her strength draining away.

Because she knew it was true.

She was his.

Body.

Mind.

Soul.

There was no escape.