His Fiery Damnation

I know

Chapter 004

I know~

JULIET

I never thought my father’s death would lead me here.

The mansion stood before me like something out of an old, gothic painting, enormous, silent, and hauntingly beautiful.

I had never been here before.

Father had mentioned Adrian’s estate once or twice, always with a tone of deep respect.

Come to think of it, my father feared this man. Why would he give me up for three years under his control?

I should be scared about this setup, but I wasn't.

It was something in between, something my body didn’t know how to name.

The car came to a stop, and the driver opened the door.

I stepped out, gripping my bag tightly. My palms were damp, and my throat ached with all the things I hadn’t said at the funeral.

Adrian was standing at the entrance, waiting for me.

He wore black, as always, it seemed like the only color that dared to exist on him.

The fading light touched his hair, casting a faint golden rim that didn’t soften his face at all.

Those gray eyes, sharp, almost cruel locked on me the moment I approached.

“Juliet,” he said simply.

His voice carried no emotion.

“Welcome to your new home.”

I swallowed hard. “This isn’t home.”

One of his brows lifted slightly, but he said nothing.

Instead, he turned and began walking inside, and I reluctantly followed.

The interior was even more intimidating, with tall ceilings, thick curtains, and old chandeliers that looked like they’d seen centuries pass. Everything smelled faintly of cedar and smoke.

“This place…” I whispered, trailing behind him. “It feels like it’s....dying."

Was dying the right name for it?

It sure seemed like it.

“Then live for it,” he replied.

I frowned, unsure if that was supposed to be humor.

We reached the grand staircase when I finally spoke again. “I don’t think I should stay here, Mr. Volkov. My father’s house is still there, I can stay alone until..."

“No.” He cut me off with a glare.

“You’ll stay here,” he said.

“That was your father’s arrangement. And I intend to respect it.”

I crossed my arms. “Respect it or control it?”

His eyes flickered, just for a second, something darker, something that made my pulse race.

“Go to your room, dinner will be served in an hour.”

That was it.

He simply turned away and vanished into one of the hallways, leaving me standing there in my anger and confusion.

The room I was given was beautiful, too beautiful.

Cream walls, soft gold drapes, a bed that looked untouched.

It was as though the place was waiting to be occupied.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the faint reflection of my face in the mirror. I looked… lost.

This wasn’t how I imagined things would go.

I had dreamt about this man, his eyes, his hands, the way he made me feel without even being near.

But this wasn’t fantasy.

This was real, and it was suffocating.

I didn’t want to be here under obligation. I didn’t want my life, my freedom, my choices to be locked away in someone else’s hands, especially his.

And yet, when I thought of him… my heart betrayed me.

Dinner was served in a dining room that looked like a painting, a long mahogany table, many plates of different dishes, as though we were hosting a feast.

Adrian sat at the head, and I sat on his right, the silence between us thick enough to choke on.

He ate quietly but I could only toy with my food, unsure if I could even swallow.

Finally, I spoke. “You didn’t have to go this far, you know.”

He looked up, one eyebrow raised.

“This far?”

“Keeping me here. Controlling every part of my life like I’m some… child you have to babysit.”

He leaned back, studying me. “You think that’s what I’m doing?”

“I know it is,” I said, matching his stare as I dared him to counter that.

"A part of me thinks this....is some kind of sick game for you, I don't know why..But it seems like you like this. My predicament."

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then he gave a faint, humorless smile. “You have no idea what I’m doing, Mia Juliette”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed against the table.

I grabbed it quickly, grateful for the distraction.

Emma’s name flashed across the screen.

“Oh, excuse me,” I said, pressing the speaker button.

“Hey, Emma,” I greeted softly.

But it wasn’t Emma’s voice that answered.

“Sweetie,” a male voice drawled, teasing. “I was beginning to think you forgot me.”

I froze.

Richard.

Richard from campus, one of Emma’s friends, who had always flirted with me more than he should.

The room went silent. Too silent and I could feel goosebumps rise on my skin as I looked everywhere but the man seated across me.

Adrian’s fork clinked against the plate.

Slowly, I looked up.

His gaze was already on me, cold, unreadable, but there was something else there too. Something dangerous.

Why did I care about this? I could speak with anyone I like, and anyone could call me sweetie, and that wouldn't be a problem.

I should give him a piece of my mind, but nothing comes up when he asks the question.

“Who,” he said, his voice hard. “Is that?”

I tried to end the call, but my hand trembled. “It’s… no one. Just a friend.”

“Friends don’t call you sweetie.”

“It’s not what you think.”

He stood up slowly, crossing the chairs as he came towards me.

"From this moment on, Juliet, you are not to have any attachment to a boy until I say so.”

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

“You heard me.”

I laughed in disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms. “You’re not my father, Adrian.”

That did it.

His eyes flashed and he moved closer, his voice low and dangerous.

“I said go upstairs.”

“I’m not...and you didn't...”

“Now.”

A shiver ran down my spine at the command.

I stood, my chair scraping the floor.

“Fine,” I spat, grabbing my phone.

“But you don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t talk to.”

I turned toward the stairs, my heart pounding in my ears.

This was just my first day here and we were beginning to act like crazy cat and rat.

This wouldn't work, this wouldn't work at all.

I need to leave.

“When you’re ready to eat, you’ll come back.”

I stopped halfway up the stairs, not daring to look back.

“No, thank you. I'm not hungry!" I screamed back.

The air between us crackled with something fierce, not just anger. Something deeper.

I wanted to hate him. God, I wanted to.

But hate shouldn’t make your pulse quicken or your body tremble like this.

I reached the top of the stairs and turned slightly. He was still standing there, staring up at me.

Our ey

es met, and for a heartbeat, neither of us breathed.

One minute...

Two minutes....

I rolled my eyes, turned around, and flipped my hair.

That would give him the message.

TBC