Chapter 5
961 Words
Bella left the house that morning because she needed to breathe.
The air inside their home had become too still—suffocating in its quiet. Every creak in the floorboard made her flinch. Every car that passed outside made her jump. Even Steven’s presence, once comforting, now pressed on her like a weight she couldn’t explain.
So she smiled as best she could, told him she’d only be gone an hour, and stepped into the bright morning sun.
She didn’t take the shortcut. She didn’t wander. She stuck to open streets, moved with purpose. Just a few errands—bread, some fruit, coffee beans. She kept her head down. Didn’t linger.
But paranoia doesn’t need reason.
Every stranger’s gaze lingered too long. Every sound behind her echoed too loudly. By the time she stepped out of the market, her chest was tight, her breath coming too fast.
It wasn’t the city anymore.
It was a cage with invisible bars.
---
Across the street, inside a matte black SUV, Damien watched her movements carefully.
He had his orders.
Today was the day.
The car behind them, identical in appearance, held two more men. Professional. Silent. Loyal only to Xavier Schawn.
Damien had seen Xavier do horrible things. To enemies. To lovers. To traitors.
But this?
This felt different.
Like a ceremony. A possession ritual.
And Bella Knight… was the sacrificial offering.
---
Bella turned the corner toward the last stop on her list—a small pharmacy where the owner still recognized her face.
She didn’t see the second car pull up behind her. Didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late.
A hand covered her mouth. Arms pinned hers.
She screamed—but the sound was swallowed by the alley walls and the fabric pressed to her lips.
The last thing she saw before the world went dark was a pair of gloved hands… and a single black ring on the man’s finger.
---
She awoke to velvet.
Soft sheets. Dim lights. Air scented faintly with sandalwood and something sharper, almost metallic.
She blinked.
Her limbs were heavy. Her throat dry.
The room was too large. Too ornate. The kind of luxury that felt like a mask over violence.
Bella sat up slowly, heart slamming against her ribs.
The bed was enormous, carved from dark wood. The curtains were drawn. A chandelier glowed dimly above her. And across the room, in a chair that looked more like a throne, sat the man from her nightmares.
Xavier Schawn.
He didn’t speak at first. Just watched her with eyes that didn’t blink. Calm. Patient.
Like a collector observing a rare piece finally in his hands.
Bella’s voice came out raw. “Where’s Steven?”
Xavier’s smile was slight. “Safe. For now.”
She stood quickly, wobbling. “What do you want from me?”
He tilted his head. “You.”
“I’m married.”
He stood now too—slow, controlled movements like a panther.
“I know.”
Her breath hitched. “Let me go.”
He walked closer. Not rushed. Just enough to make her back up instinctively.
“You saw something that day,” Xavier said, voice low. “And I saw something too.”
“I don’t care what you saw.”
“But I do.”
His gaze darkened. “You saw power. You saw control. And I saw… the one thing I’ve never had.”
Bella’s hands clenched at her sides. “You’re sick.”
He was silent a moment. Then he nodded, not insulted, not offended.
“Maybe.”
He reached forward and brushed a strand of hair from her face.
She slapped his hand away.
His smile vanished.
For a beat.
Then he exhaled softly, turned his back to her, and walked toward the door.
“I won’t touch you tonight,” he said. “Not until you beg.”
Bella trembled. “I never will.”
Xavier glanced back over his shoulder, eyes gleaming.
“Everyone begs eventually.”
---
Steven was losing his mind.
The moment Bella didn’t answer her phone, he knew. Every cell in his body screamed that something was wrong.
When her location went dark, he ran.
First to the market. Then the street. Then the pharmacy. Her last known stops. No one had seen anything. No one ever did.
By the time he went to the police, it was already too late.
They asked questions. Took notes. But when Steven described the black car and the strange notes, something changed.
A flicker of fear passed through one officer’s eyes.
The report was filed.
No follow-up came.
No patrol.
No call back.
The silence said everything.
---
That night, Steven sat alone on their bed, staring at the ring she left in the ceramic dish beside the sink. She always took it off to wash her hands. A habit he used to tease her about.
Now it felt like a goodbye she never meant to give.
---
Bella didn’t sleep.
She lay in the silk-draped bed, staring at the ceiling, her heart cold and steady now. The shock had passed. The terror, too.
What remained was focus.
She wasn’t just a victim.
She was a wife.
And if Steven was alive, she had to survive—for him.
---
Xavier watched her through the hidden camera feed.
The way she sat. The way she looked around, memorizing details. The way her hands clenched in rhythm, like she was counting something.
He leaned back in his chair, a soft hum in his throat.
“She’s stronger than I thought.”
Damien stood at the edge of the room. “And you like that?”
Xavier smiled faintly. “It makes the breaking so much more satisfying.”
---
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