CRIMSON VOWS

Chapter 14

Aira sat motionless in front of the vanity mirror, staring at her reflection.

The makeup artists had spent hours perfecting every detail—her skin glowed like silk, her eyes were shaded in dark, dramatic tones, and her hair cascaded over her shoulders in flawless waves. She looked breathtaking. Beautiful enough to be a queen... of a prison.

She wasn't a queen. She was a pawn trapped in a deal with a devil who owned everything, including the air she breathed.

Her hands trembled as she touched the heavy, gold-embroidered velvet of her crimson wedding lehenga. The weight dragging down her shoulders wasn't just the fabric—it was the reality she was being forced to accept. A forced marriage to a man who ruled the city like a god.

She couldn't do it. She had to run.

The plan was simple: she had a bag of plain clothes hidden under the bed, and the moment the artists stepped out, she would slip through the back exit. She had to try. Freedom was only a few steps away.

Aira stood up quietly from the stool, checking the hallway through the c***k in her door. The garden below her window looked quiet and completely abandoned.

She grabbed her small bag, slipped out of her heavy jewelry, and crept out of the room barefoot, her breath hitching with every slight creak of the floorboards.

The corridors of her family home were eerily still.

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she passed her parents' quiet quarters. She was almost there—almost free. The back door leading to the garden gate was only a few yards ahead. She could slip into the narrow alleyway and disappear into the bustling city streets before anyone noticed she was gone.

She reached out, her fingers inches from the cold metal of the door handle.

And then—she felt it.

A cold, heavy gaze locked onto the back of her neck.

"Aira..."

The voice cut through the quiet corridor, sending a violent shiver straight down her spine.

She froze. Her heart stopped beating.

She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The dark, suffocating aura filling the hallway was unmistakable.

Slowly, terrifyingly, she turned.

Dominic stood near the base of the stairs in a custom black suit, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His face was carved from granite, but his dark eyes gleamed with a dangerous, calculating light as he watched her.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked softly, his tone silky, controlled, and laced with absolute authority.

Aira took a shaky step back, pressing her spine against the exit door. "I'm not marrying you."

"Aira," he purred, stepping forward with slow, predatory grace. "You know I can't let you go."

Her whole body trembled with a mixture of fear, rage, and exhaustion, but she lifted her chin, staring him down. "I'll kill myself before I walk down that aisle with you."

Dominic stopped in his tracks. His smirk vanished, his dark eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"Don't make promises you won't be alive to keep," he whispered softly. "Now... come back inside. The ceremony is about to start."

He took another step toward her—and Aira ran.

She spun on her bare heels and sprinted down the long hallway toward the front entrance. Her feet slapped hard against the polished floor as she ran with everything she had left.

Dominic was faster.

Before her fingers could even reach the front door latch, a broad hand shot out from behind her, wrapping around her wrist in an iron grip and yanking her back against his chest.

"Gotcha," he growled into her hair.

His grip tightened around her bones, cutting off her leverage. She let out a sharp gasp of pain, thrashing against his hold.

"I told you," he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as his arm wrapped securely around her waist. "You can run all you want, cara mia, but you'll never get far from me."

"Let me go, Dominic! Please—just let me go!" she cried out, twisting frantically in his grasp.

Dominic only let out a low, dark chuckle against her skin.

"You really think you can escape me?" His fingers dug into her waist as he spun her around to face him, pinning her against his frame. His dark eyes consumed her vision, burning with a terrifying, unyielding obsession. "This stopped being about a debt a long time ago. You belong to me now."