Owned By The Devil's Heir

The Warning

Chapter Four – The Warning

Morning light spilled across the marble floors, painting the mansion in hues of gold. It should have felt safe, warm, ordinary. But safety didn’t exist here. Not with him.

I sat at the long dining table, my fingers wrapped tightly around a porcelain cup of coffee I could barely taste. My mother was radiant beside Marco, chatting about redecorating, about finally settling in. She looked happy, so blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her.

Damian sat across from me, silent. A dark prince in his black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows again, hair falling slightly into his eyes. He didn’t eat. He didn’t drink. He only watched me.

Every bite I forced down turned to ash under that gaze.

“Isabella, are you excited about starting at St. Augustine’s?” Mom asked, her voice bright.

“Yes,” I whispered, though it sounded unconvincing even to me.

Damian’s lips curled faintly. “She’ll do well,” he said, his voice low but certain. “No one will dare touch her.”

Marco chuckled, oblivious. “Of course not. She’ll have family looking out for her.”

Something sharp passed in Damian’s expression. His eyes never left mine as he murmured, “Exactly.”

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Later, I tried to slip out, desperate for air. The mansion was beautiful but suffocating, its endless halls echoing with secrets. I made it to the garden, where roses bloomed in neat rows, their thorns glistening with dew.

I bent to touch one, needing something real, something that didn’t feel like a trap.

“You shouldn’t wander alone.”

His voice slid through me like a knife. I froze as Damian appeared from the shadows, hands in his pockets, as though he had been waiting for me.

I straightened quickly. “I just needed fresh air.”

His eyes roamed over me slowly, deliberately, as if memorizing every inch. “The world outside this house isn’t safe. But in here…” He stepped closer, his presence swallowing mine. “…it’s dangerous in a different way.”

“Why are you doing this?” I demanded, my voice trembling. “You barely know me. Why are you—”

“Obsessed?” His smirk was cold, wicked. “Because the moment you walked into my world, you became the only thing in it worth wanting.”

I stumbled back, my heel catching on the stone path. He caught me before I could fall, his hands gripping my waist with startling strength.

The contact stole my breath. My body stiffened, but my heart betrayed me, pounding hard against my ribs.

“Let me go,” I whispered.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Never.”

I shivered, torn between fear and a dark, inexplicable yearning.

When he finally released me, my legs felt weak. Damian’s eyes burned into mine, a silent warning, a promise, a claim.

“Stay close, Isabella. Because the further you run, the faster I’ll chase.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving me trembling in the garden, roses and thorns blurring around me.