Chapter2
687 Words
Aurora
The elevator doors closed behind us with a hiss. I stood in the center of a marble lobby that looked more like a private museum than a home. Clean lines. Black steel. No warmth. No personality.
Just power.
Cassian Rhys said nothing as he led me through the penthouse, his footsteps silent on imported stone floors. I followed, breath shallow, heart crawling up my throat.
I didn’t know what I expected.
A staff. A tour. A smile.
I got none of it.
He stopped at the end of a long hallway, opened a set of double doors, and stepped aside to let me in first.
The bedroom hit me like a second slap.
Floor-to-ceiling windows. Manhattan glittering like a necklace around us. One massive bed—black sheets, no frills. A fireplace already lit, casting golden light against cool walls.
I walked in slowly.
“You live here alone?”
“I don’t believe in distractions.”
“You think I’m not a distraction?”
“You’re a contract,” he said.
His voice was low. Controlled. Too calm. It made me want to throw something.
But instead of screaming, I turned to face him. “Why me?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just closed the door behind him and flicked the lock.
Then he walked toward me.
Slow.
Measured.
Predator.
My chest tightened with every step he took. When he stopped, there was only a breath of space between us.
“You were ruined,” he said. “Broken. Unwanted. I wanted you like that.”
My jaw clenched. “So you collect strays?”
“No,” he said. “I claim what others overlook. And I make it mine.”
The room felt smaller. Hotter.
“I don’t belong to you.”
He tilted his head. “You signed. You knew what that meant.”
I stepped back. He followed.
“I didn’t sign to be your whore.”
“No. You signed to be my wife.” He reached up, fingers brushing my collarbone. “And I’m a possessive man, Aurora.”
I wanted to slap him.
I wanted to kiss him.
He leaned in, scent of cedar and sin curling around me.
“This marriage isn’t for headlines or convenience. It’s for control.” His hand slid to the back of my neck, thumb brushing the pulse pounding beneath my skin. “You belong to me now. And I’ll take my time proving it.”
My breath hitched. “You’re a monster.”
“Monsters don’t whisper when they can bite.”
He kissed me.
Hard.
No warning. No hesitation. Just heat—sudden, searing, dominant.
I didn’t kiss him back at first. I couldn’t. I was too shocked by the fact that my knees nearly gave out the second his mouth touched mine.
But when his tongue slipped past my lips, claiming without asking, something inside me gave in.
My hands gripped his shirt. His fingers fisted in my hair. We crashed against the wall like a storm.
He kissed like a man who wanted to ruin me.
And I was starting to think I’d let him.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathless, lips swollen, heart shaking.
“You think that was a kiss?” he murmured against my mouth. “That was a warning.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he was already walking away.
“I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up.”
He didn’t look at me again.
Just walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
I sat on the edge of the bed in silence. The sheets were smooth. Cold. Unlike his mouth.
He hadn’t touched me beyond that kiss. Hadn’t asked for more.
But I felt owned.
Branded.
My phone buzzed beside me.
Unknown number.
Welcome to the Rhys estate. A wardrobe will arrive in the morning. Public debut in 72 hours. Prepare to play your part.
I dropped the phone like it burned.
Because that kiss?
That wasn’t the beginning.
It was the first of many rules I was about to learn the hard way.
- Writer
