Chapter 9 Claimed
1408 Words
The master bedroom felt unfamiliar.
Too large.
Too masculine.
And painfully intrusive.
Gena stood at the doorway, staring at the room that now held her belongings.
Her dresses.
Her shoes.
Her books.
Her life—
Carelessly transplanted into Jared’s territory.
The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth.
This was no longer coincidence.
Nor misunderstanding.
Jared was deliberately tightening the walls around her.
Slowly.
Methodically.
And what terrified her most—
Was how powerless she felt against it.
She entered quietly.
The room smelled faintly of cedar and expensive cologne.
His scent.
Her luggage sat near the wardrobe, already unpacked by the maids.
She hated that.
Hated strangers touching her things.
Hated that decisions about her life were being made without her consent.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom.
Gena stiffened.
He was here.
Her pulse quickened.
For a brief second, she considered leaving.
But then—
No.
This was supposed to be her home too.
She would not run.
Not anymore.
Ignoring the nervous flutter inside her chest, she moved toward the wardrobe and began arranging several dresses the maids had carelessly folded.
Her thoughts drifted toward Cherry.
And Christian.
The restaurant owner’s polite smile unexpectedly surfaced in her mind.
At least someone today had spoken kindly to her.
The thought almost comforted her.
Almost.
Then—
A soft vibration interrupted the silence.
Her phone.
It rested on the bedside table.
She walked toward it and picked it up.
Unknown number.
Before she could answer—
The bathroom door opened.
Jared emerged wearing dark slacks and a plain black shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms.
Water still dampened his hair.
He stopped when he saw her.
And instantly—
The room changed.
Heavy.
Quiet.
Dangerously intimate.
Gena looked away first.
“I’m just arranging my things.”
His gaze lingered on her.
“You seem unhappy.”
She almost laughed.
“You moved my life without asking.”
“You’re my wife.”
Again.
That word.
As though it explained everything.
Her jaw tightened.
“And wives lose the right to privacy?”
His expression remained unreadable.
“Privacy isn’t the issue.”
“Then what is?”
But he didn’t answer.
Instead, his eyes drifted toward the phone in her hand.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Gena frowned.
“You touched my phone?”
Silence.
Then—
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Suspicion stirred.
Before she could press further—
A message notification appeared.
But it vanished almost immediately.
Her brows knitted.
“That’s strange.”
Jared turned away.
“Maybe poor signal.”
His calmness unsettled her.
After a long moment, she sighed and set the phone down.
This conversation was exhausting.
Everything with him felt exhausting.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.
His shoulders stilled.
“Doing what?”
“Controlling everything.”
He looked at her again.
“You call it control.”
“What should I call it?”
His gaze darkened.
“Marriage.”
The word struck her.
But not softly.
Never softly with him.
“You barely know me,” she whispered.
His jaw tightened.
“And you know me?”
The room fell silent.
No.
They didn’t know each other.
That was the tragedy.
Three years married.
And strangers still lived inside the same vows.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she said.
His eyes sharpened.
“Neither did I.”
Pain flickered between them.
Raw.
Brief.
Then gone.
A knock interrupted the tension.
One of the maids appeared at the doorway.
“Sir, the driver is ready.”
Jared looked away first.
“We’re leaving.”
Gena blinked.
“Leaving?”
“You forgot?”
Her confusion deepened.
“You never told me.”
His expression remained cold.
“Get ready. One hour.”
And just like that—
He walked past her.
Leaving instructions instead of explanations.
As though she were simply expected to follow.
The drive felt suffocating.
Gena sat beside him in silence.
Neither spoke.
The city lights blurred past the windows while questions crowded her mind.
Where were they going?
Why now?
And why did she suddenly feel like she was losing control of her own life?
Beside her—
Jared remained unreadable.
But beneath his calm exterior—
His thoughts churned.
Because he had seen the message.
I miss you, gorgeous.
The words still burned.
He had deleted it.
Blocked the number.
And for reasons he refused to examine—
That small act of possessiveness had satisfied something ugly inside him.
Christian.
The man had known her for barely a day.
Yet he dared.
Jared clenched his jaw.
His irritation had nothing to do with jealousy.
At least—
That was what he told himself.
Later that evening—
They arrived at a private resort property owned by the Jacobo family.
The place overlooked the sea.
Beautiful.
Quiet.
And isolated.
Gena stepped out of the car and looked around.
“This is where we’re staying?”
“For a few days.”
She looked at him.
“You decided that without asking me too?”
His expression remained calm.
“You complain often.”
“And you command often.”
A dangerous silence settled.
Then he walked ahead.
Leaving her no choice but to follow.
The villa was luxurious.
But the beauty of the place failed to comfort her.
Because beneath everything—
Something felt wrong.
Too tense.
Too fragile.
Night arrived quickly.
The ocean winds cooled the air while silence settled around the villa.
Gena stood by the balcony, staring at the waves.
She needed to think.
Needed space.
Needed—
“You’re avoiding me again.”
His voice startled her.
She turned.
Jared stood near the doorway.
His face unreadable.
“I’m breathing.”
“You do that better away from me.”
Her chest tightened.
“You make it difficult.”
Something dark flickered across his expression.
“And you make it easy?”
She frowned.
“What does that mean?”
He stepped closer.
Not angry.
But controlled.
And somehow—
That frightened her more.
“You entertain strangers,” he said quietly.
The accusation shocked her.
“What?”
His jaw tightened.
“You accept numbers.”
Her pulse stumbled.
Christian.
Realization hit.
“You checked my phone.”
“No.”
“You did.”
The lie angered her.
“That’s none of your business!”
His expression hardened.
“It becomes my business when another man calls my wife gorgeous.”
Her eyes widened.
“You blocked him?”
He said nothing.
Which was answer enough.
Anger surged.
“How dare you!”
Her voice echoed across the room.
“You invade my privacy, move me into your room, control my work, and now this?”
His restraint visibly thinned.
“You gave him your number.”
“He was being polite!”
“You enjoyed the attention.”
The accusation cut.
“No.”
“You smiled at him.”
“And you watch me like I belong to you!”
The words shattered the air.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Then—
His voice lowered.
“You do.”
Fear and anger collided inside her.
“No,” she whispered.
His eyes darkened.
“You married me.”
“That doesn’t make me property!”
For a moment—
Something dangerous surfaced inside him.
Not cruelty.
Not exactly.
But something wounded.
Possessive.
And deeply flawed.
He moved closer.
Too close.
Gena stepped back.
“Don’t.”
But the room suddenly felt smaller.
The tension between them had become unbearable.
His anger.
Her fear.
Their years of resentment and misunderstanding—
Colliding all at once.
When he reached for her arm—
She pulled away immediately.
“Stop.”
Her voice shook.
And that—
That finally reached him.
The silence that followed felt suffocating.
Jared froze.
Then slowly—
His hand dropped.
His breathing remained uneven.
But when he looked at her—
Something in his expression shifted.
He looked angry.
Conflicted.
And strangely ashamed.
Without another word—
He turned and walked toward the balcony.
Leaving distance between them.
Leaving silence.
Gena stood motionless.
Her heart pounded painfully.
And for the first time—
She realized something terrifying.
Jared frightened her.
Not because he was a monster.
But because he was a man losing control—
And she no longer understood what he might do with feelings he himself did not understand.
- Writer
