Bound to the Ruthless Billionaire

💎 Bound to the Ruthless Billionaire

Episode 8 — A Taste of Freedom

By Rhemita Stories

---

The sound of the rain hitting the glass wall was the only thing keeping Elena company. 🌧️ The mansion felt emptier after Adrian’s mother’s visit, like the walls themselves were still whispering the harsh words the woman had thrown at her.

“Pathetic girl… You don’t belong in this house…”

Those words wouldn’t stop echoing in her head. She’d spent the entire night sitting on the edge of her bed, hugging her knees like a child afraid of the dark.

The dark wasn’t outside anymore. It lived right here — inside this mansion.

Elena sighed and got up. The clock read 9:45 AM. Adrian had already gone to work, of course. He’d left early, with his usual arrogance and his black suit that screamed power and distance.

She thought about him longer than she wanted to.

The way he ignored her mother-in-law’s insults yesterday had been confusing. He didn’t defend her out of love — no, that wasn’t possible. But the cold edge in his voice when he’d said, “No one disrespects my wife except me,” made her chest twist in a strange, painful way.

Was it protection or ownership? She didn’t know.

All she knew was that she needed to breathe.

---

“Maya, I can’t do this anymore,” Elena whispered into her phone as soon as her best friend picked up.

Maya’s voice came out sharp and familiar. “You mean sitting in that gold-plated prison all day? Babe, I told you! That man might be rich, but he’s emotionally bankrupt.”

Elena smiled faintly. “It’s not that simple. I owe him. My family owes him. I just… I want to do something for myself. Anything.”

“Then get a job,” Maya said, as if it was that easy. “Something light. Secret. He doesn’t have to know.”

Elena bit her lip. “He said I’m not allowed to work. Or leave without his permission.”

Maya snorted. “And since when did the Elena Adams I know take orders?”

Elena laughed softly, shaking her head. “Since she married the devil himself.”

---

That night, she made her move.

When the house was quiet, she tiptoed out of her room, careful not to wake the staff. The hallway lights glowed faintly, reflecting on the marble floor.

She headed for the study. Ethan, Adrian’s assistant, usually left important files there for Adrian to review at night. Maybe she could find something that could help her find a way out — a contact, a name, anything.

But just as she reached the door, a voice made her freeze.

“Well, well, Mrs. Knight, sneaking around your husband’s lair?”

Her heart jumped. “Roan!” she hissed, spinning around. He was leaning against the doorframe, half buttoned shirt, messy hair, smirk firmly in place.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement. “Or are you looking for the safe where Adrian keeps his patience? Because trust me, that’s been empty for years.”

“Not funny,” she muttered.

Roan stepped closer. “You know, for a man who claims to hate you, he sure keeps you on a short leash. If it were me—”

“Good thing it’s not you,” she interrupted coldly.

Roan laughed. “Touché. Still… if you ever need a break from his royal iciness, I could always use an assistant.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re offering me a job?”

He shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “You could help with paperwork. You’re smart, and it’ll annoy Adrian. So, win-win.”

Before she could answer, Ethan’s voice interrupted them. “Mr. Knight asked me to make sure you didn’t wander around the house, Mrs. Knight.”

Ethan stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, a faintly apologetic look on his face.

Elena sighed. “I wasn’t wandering.”

“Then what were you doing?”

“Looking for peace,” she murmured.

Ethan looked at her for a long moment before saying softly, “Peace doesn’t exist in this house, Mrs. Knight. Not yet.”

---

The next morning, Adrian came home earlier than usual.

Elena was in the kitchen, trying to help the maid when the air suddenly changed. The maids froze. She turned — and there he was, standing tall, suit jacket draped over his arm, blue-gray eyes as sharp as steel.

His gaze dropped to her apron. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” she said simply.

“I don’t pay staff for you to play housemaid,” he replied, walking toward her.

Elena held his gaze. “Maybe I just wanted to feel useful.”

He stopped right in front of her. “You’re useful by staying quiet and not causing trouble.”

Her eyes burned. “So that’s all I’m worth to you? Silence?”

“Don’t push me, Elena.” His tone dropped dangerously low.

“Then stop caging me,” she shot back, her voice trembling but defiant.

For a moment, the air between them crackled — not with hatred, but something far more dangerous. His hand brushed her arm briefly, like he wanted to pull her close but forced himself not to.

“Don’t test me,” he whispered, and then walked away.

Elena stood frozen, her heart pounding. Why did his voice do that to her? Why did she want to both slap and kiss him?

---

Later that day, she found a note slipped under her door.

From Roan:

> “My offer still stands. If you ever want a taste of freedom, come to the city tomorrow. I’ll be waiting. 😉 — R.”

She folded it quickly before anyone saw. For the first time since her marriage, she smiled — a real smile.

Maybe, just maybe, she’d take that chance.

---

To Be Continued…