Elena’s POV
I stood before the mirror placed in his room, my fingers shaking slightly as I tried to zip up the elegant black dress he had given me.
My mind was racing. Caspian Nightingale was dangerous. I had seen it. That much was clear. Yet here I was, in his room, getting ready to leave for a dinner party with him. With someone I should dread.
I should have left as planned. I should have run away the moment I got the chance to do so. But for some reason, I didn’t.
Instead, I stood here, my reflection staring back at me, reminding me that my freedom was slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.
I was divorced. I was supposed to be free. Yet, somehow, I had walked straight into another trap.
I exhaled shakily, my bare back exposed as I struggled with the zipper. My hands were clammy, my stomach twisting with unease.
Why couldn’t I just ignore the fact that he had saved me earlier? Why couldn’t I turn around and leave? A heavy sigh escaped my lips at that moment.
Just as I was lost in my thoughts, the door to the room I was in suddenly swung open, and to my utmost surprise, Caspian—the one I had been thinking about—strode in like he owned the world.
Well, I knew he owned the house, but that shouldn't give him the right to walk in on me while I was dressing, right?
I gasped at the sight of him, instinctively wrapping my arms around myself to cover my body, my breath hitching.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded abruptly, my voice sharper than I intended. My heart pounded against my ribs, and my entire body tensed.
Caspian didn’t even blink for a split second. Instead, he arched a brow, his lips curling into an amused smirk at my words.
“Here?” He scoffed, taking another step inside.
His dark, piercing eyes swept over me, sending a shiver down my spine. “This is my room, Squishy. And lest I remind you, we are married.”
His words felt like a slap. My stomach clenched. Married?
The word echoed in my head like a cruel joke. I had married him while I was drunk, but he wouldn’t let me flee back then.
I swallowed hard and took a step back, my bare feet brushing against the plush carpet.
He shut the door behind him with a quiet click, locking us inside the room.
My heart slammed against my ribs at his malicious actions.
I lifted my chin, trying to mask my nervousness. “I don’t care,” I said, forcing steel into my voice. “You can’t just walk in here like that.”
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto mine. “Well, can’t I?” His voice was smooth, but there was something dark lurking beneath his words.
“I’m sorry, but as my wife, Squishy… I can’t leave. Not when your very being draws me closer to you.”
My stomach twisted at his words. My breathing grew uneven too. What was he saying? I thought inwardly as I gazed at him.
There was no way he loved me. He barely even knew me. Yet, there was something in his voice—something unreadable, something unsettling. It sent a mix of fear and confusion rushing through every inch of my spine.
I took another step back, but my heel hit the edge of the bed. My balance wavered, and before I could stop myself, I fell effortlessly onto the mattress with a soft thud. Caspian was on me in an instant.
He didn’t touch me—not yet—but he leaned in so close, his tall frame towering over me. A dangerous smirk played on his lips.
My throat dried as I stared.
His presence was overwhelming. Every inch of him screamed power, control, and—more thrilling—danger.
My instincts screamed at me to run, to push him away and leave the room, but my body refused to move.
His dark eyes roamed over my face for a second, his expression unreadable. He didn't say a word to me yet. It was just the silence, him, and me in the room.
I felt uneasy too, but what could I do?
After a few seconds of making me grow tenser, his deep husky voice finally resonated through the walls of the room. “It’s high time you got yourself ready, Squishy.”
Before I could react, his arm snaked around my waist, his grip firm but not forceful. He pulled me up with ease, his other hand moving to the back of my dress.
I sucked in a breath.
The sound of the zipper sliding up sent goosebumps down my skin.
He was close—too close to me. His scent, a mix of spice and something deeply masculine, filled my lungs. My pulse hammered in my ears.
Caspian leaned in, his lips inches from my ear. “We don’t want to be late, do we?”
And just like that, he let go of me. I staggered slightly, my breath still unsteady. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I turned to face him.
My mind screamed at me to say something, to push back, to fight, but the words refused to come.
Caspian smirked, completely unfazed, and without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.
I stood there, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my heart still racing.
What the hell just happened?
I had been certain—certain—he was going to do something worse. Hurt me, scare me, or worse… Yet, he hadn’t.
Instead, he had left me breathless, confused, and shaken.
My hands trembled as I reached up to touch my collarbone. The heat of his touch still lingered.
I had to get out of here.
I forced my feet to move, stepping out of the room and down the grand staircase. The house was massive, luxurious, but it felt like a cage. My thoughts swirled with unanswered questions.
Did he know about Caleb? Did he know I wanted to run?
I pushed those thoughts aside as I reached the front of the house. Caspian was already waiting by the sleek black car parked outside, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.
As soon as he saw me, he moved.
Before I could react, he reached for my hand, his fingers wrapping around mine. His grip was firm but not painful. It was possessive.
I sucked in a sharp breath. “What are you—” He cut in sharply.
“Let’s show them you belong to me now.”
My stomach dropped at his assertion.
The tone of his words settled deep in my chest. I knew what this was. A show. A warning.
But as Caspian pulled me closer and led me to the car, I realized something terrifying: for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted something so dangerous to end.