His Blackmail Bride

BEHIND BARS AND BREAKING POINT

Serena sat in her cell with her wrists still raw from the cuffs they removed only after fingerprinting and the orange jumpsuit she was given was loose on her body.

She kept staring at the small window high on the wall, watching the sky as dawn crept in. Her mind kept replaying the raid. The shock on Marcus’s face that gave way to fury, the way his voice cracked when he shouted her name. She clung to that c***k like a lifeline.

She heard footsteps echo down the corridor. A female officer appeared with the cell keys.

“Vale. Visitor.”

Serena stood. Her legs felt numb. They led her to a small interview room.

Marcus waited inside.

He looked wrecked in the best way possible, his suit jacket gone, shirt sleeves rolled up, hair was a mess like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times. Dark circles under his eyes. His Jaw clenched so tight she could see the muscle twitch.

The officer uncuffed her hands from the waist chain and left them alone, door locking behind her.

Silence.

Then Marcus spoke, voice rough. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “No.”

She sat across from him. The table between them felt like an ocean. “How did you get in here?” she asked.

“Money. Connections. Threats. Pick one.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “My lawyers are already filing for bail. We’ll have you out by afternoon. The evidence is fabricated—planted devices, forged signatures. Theo’s sloppy. We’ll prove it.”

She studied him. The man who’d agreed to her blackmail marriage, who’d kissed her like he hated her and wanted her in the same breath, who’d threatened to ruin her if she crossed him, now sitting here at 5 a.m., looking like he hadn’t slept and fighting for her freedom.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.

Marcus’s gaze dropped to her wrists where the red marks were still visible. Something flickered across his face. Guilt? Anger? Both?

“Because this wasn’t part of the deal,” he said.

“I agreed to protect the empire. Not let my brother frame my wife for crimes she didn’t commit.”

“Your wife” she echoed, the word tasting strange. “On paper.”

He met her eyes again. “On paper or not, you’re under my protection. That means something.”

She nodded slowly. Then, softer “Last night… before the raid. The kiss.”

His jaw tightened. “Don’t.”

She leaned forward. “Was it just the gala adrenaline? Or—”

“It was a mistake.” His voice was low, almost pained. “We have rules. I broke them.”

She laughed, a small, broken sound. “Rules. Right. Because everything about this is so controlled.”

He looked away, toward the mirror. “You think I wanted this? To feel… whatever the hell this is? I spent years cleaning up Theo’s messes because family comes first. Always. Then you walked into my office with those files and turned my world inside out.”

Silence again.

The door opened. The officer returned. “Time’s up.”

Marcus stood. “I’ll be outside when they release you.”

She nodded.

As they led her back to the cell, she glanced over her shoulder. He was still watching, his eyes fierce, protective with something raw and unguarded in them she’d never seen before.

The cell door closed shut.

Hours dragged. She paced. Sat. Paced again.

Around noon, the door opened again.

“Vale. You’re free to go.”

She walked out into blinding daylight. Marcus waited by a black SUV, the driver already inside with engine running. He opened the passenger door for her without a word.

She slid in. He followed, door shutting with a solid thud.

The car pulled away in silence.

“You didn’t have to come yourself. Lawyers could’ve handled it.”

He met her gaze. “I needed to see you.”

Her heart stuttered.

The car turned onto the private road leading to the estate. Gates opened. They pulled up to the main entrance.

Marcus got out first, came around, opened her door. Offered his hand. She took it briefly then let go.

He led her upstairs, past her usual east wing entrance, toward his side of the mansion.

She paused. “My suite—”

“Not tonight,” he said. “You’re staying closer. Until we know it’s safe.”

He pushed open the door to a guest room adjacent to his master suite connected by a shared sitting area.

She stepped inside. The bed was turned down. Fresh towels. A tray with tea and fruit.

He lingered in the doorway. “Rest. Eat. I’ll be next door if you need anything.”

She turned to face him. “Marcus.”

He stopped.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For coming. For… fighting for me.”

“I told you,” he murmured. “You’re under my protection.” And turned away.

Serena waited until the house settled into deep silence. The clock on the nightstand glowed 2:17 a.m

She slipped out of the guest room barefoot. The shared sitting area was dark except for moonlight spilling through tall windows. Marcus’s master suite door was closed. No light underneath.

Good.

She moved toward his office wing. The door she’d seen earlier was ajar, just a c***k. She paused, her heart thudding.

The folded note from last night flashed in her mind. The memory made her skin prickle now.

She swallowed. Pushed the office door open wider.

Moonlight cut across the room. There was no laptop in sight, he must have taken it to his room. She started with the desk drawers, quiet, and careful.

Filing cabinet next. Locked.

She tested the handle anyway. It gave slightly—someone hadn’t fully engaged the lock. She pulled the top drawer open.

She flipped through folders quickly, her phone flashlight dimmed low.

Nothing new, nothing explosive enough to tip the scale beyond what she already held.

She closed the drawer softly. Frustration burned in her chest. She needed more, something undeniable, something that would make leaking everything a real threat if Marcus ever turned on her.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

She spun.

Marcus stood in the doorway, bare-chested with gray sweatpants low on his hips, arms crossed over a torso carved from discipline and discipline alone. Broad shoulders, defined abs that shifted with every breath with his eyes were wide awake. And furious.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” His voice was low with steel.

Serena’s throat went dry.

Her gaze flicked unwillingly down the line of his body. Heat bloomed low in her belly despite the fear. She raised her eyes back to his face.

“I—I couldn’t sleep” she said quickly. “I was just… looking around the house. Exploring. It’s huge. I got turned around.”

Marcus stepped inside. The door closed behind him with a final click.

“Turned around” he repeated, tone flat and disbelieving. “Into my locked office. At two in the morning. In the dark.”

“The door was open,” she lied again. “And it’s my home too now, isn’t it? On paper.”

He advanced one slow step. Then another. The air between them thickened with anger, suspicion, and something hotter she refused to name.

“Don’t insult me” he said coldly. “You’re not wandering. You’re searching. For what? Another file to hold over my head so you can keep playing this game?”

Serena backed up until her hips hit the desk. “Maybe I am. Maybe I don’t trust a man who married me under threat and then kisses me like he owns me.”

Marcus closed the distance. One hand planted on the desk beside her hip. The other braced on the other side, caging her without touching. His bare chest was inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him.

“You want to talk about trust?” His voice dropped to a dangerous murmur. “You blackmailed your way into my life, my home, my bed, separate or not. And now you’re in my office, going through my files. Why? What are you really after, Serena?”

She met his glare, refusing to flinch even as her pulse hammered. “Maybe I just want to know who I’m really married to.”

He leaned in close enough that his breath brushed her cheek. “You know exactly who I am. The man who saved your ass today. The man who’s keeping you safe when my brother wants you destroyed. And you repay me by sneaking around like a thief.”

“I’m not a thief,” she snapped. “I’m surviving.”

“Surviving?” His laugh was short, bitter. “You’re scheming. Theo’s already coming for you, raiding this house, planting evidence. And you think the answer is to dig deeper into my life? To use me as a stepping stone in whatever game you’re playing with him?”

Serena’s hands fisted at her sides. “This isn’t a game. This is my life he ruined. And you—you stood by while he did it.”

Marcus’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t stand by. I’m cleaning up his mess, again. But if you’re working with him, if this is some twisted revenge play where you use me to hurt him and then walk away—”

“I’m not working with Theo!” she hissed. “I hate him.”

“Then why are you in my office?” Marcus’s voice rose, cold fury breaking through the control. “Tell me the truth, Serena. Right now. Or I swear I’ll lock every door in this house and you won’t see daylight until I know exactly what you’re hiding.”

The threat landed hard. Her back pressed against the desk edge. His body tall and bare, radiating restrained power. Her gaze betrayed her again sliding down the flex of his forearms braced on either side of her, the way his sweatpants hung low enough to show the cut of his hips.

Heat pooled low despite the anger. She hated it. Hated him for making her feel it.

Marcus noticed. His eyes darkened, not with anger this time. With something hungrier.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he said, voice rougher now.

“Like what?” she challenged, even as her breath hitched.

“Like you want to tear me apart and climb me at the same time.”

The air between them ignited.

Serena’s hands came up half to push him away, half to grip his shoulders. His skin was hot under her palms. Solid. Unyielding.

Marcus didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Then slowly and deliberately, he leaned in until his mouth hovered a whisper from hers.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured. “Or tell me what you really came here for.”

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders.

The room narrowed to the space between their mouths.

And in the silence, Serena realized she wasn’t sure which answer would come out if she opened her lips.

The tension snapped, electric and unbearable.

And neither of them moved.

Yet.