Claimed
1062 Words
Elena’s POV
I should have known today would go wrong.
The headache from last night still lingered, a dull throb behind my eyes as I navigated through the market. The crowded streets, the murmuring voices, the overwhelming sense of being watched,it all made my skin prickle. I told myself it was paranoia.
It had to be.
But even as I left the market with a bag of groceries in hand, that feeling didn’t go away. My fingers tightened around the plastic, my pulse uneven. Someone was watching me.
And then it happened.
A rough hand yanked me back, nearly making me stumble. Before I could react, a voice,one that still haunted my worst memories spoke, sending an icy chill down my spine.
"Did you think you could ignore me forever, Elena?"
I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
Damien.
My stomach twisted. The familiar scent of his expensive cologne mixed with something rotten, his presence, his arrogance, his ownership. I stiffened as he stepped in front of me, his grip on my wrist tightening.
"You never signed the damn papers," he said, his tone mocking. "Still clinging to hope, sweetheart? Or are you just as useless as ever?"
My breath hitched, but I refused to let him see the way his words hit me.
"I don’t have time for this," I said, trying to yank my arm free.
He held on. Harder.
"You don’t get to walk away from me, Elena," Damien sneered, his face inches from mine. "You belong to me until I say otherwise. And from what I hear, you’ve been out late. A club? Since when do you..."
"Let. Me. Go."
His grip only tightened, his nails digging into my skin.
"Still acting like you have a spine," he muttered, voice low. "Let’s be honest, Elena. No one else is going to put up with you. You should be grateful I..."
"That’s enough."
A deep, unfamiliar voice cut through the moment like a knife.
I barely had time to react before Damien stiffened. His grip loosened just enough for me to yank my hand back. My heart pounded as I turned,and my breath caught.
Him.
The man from last night.
He stood a few feet away, exuding nothing but power, dominance, and something much darker. His dark eyes locked onto Damien, unreadable but filled with quiet menace.
"What do you think you’re doing with my girlfriend?"
My heart nearly stopped.
Girlfriend?
Damien scoffed, but I didn’t miss the flash of uncertainty in his eyes. "Excuse me?"
The man took a step forward, his presence alone forcing Damien back.
"You heard me," he said smoothly. "She’s my soon-to-be wife, and I don’t appreciate some lowlife putting his hands on her."
I forgot how to breathe.
What?
Damien turned to me, searching for an answer, but I was just as stunned as he was.
"You’re joking," Damien said, his voice lacking its usual confidence.
The man didn’t smile. "Do I look like I’m joking?"
The silence stretched, thick with tension.
For the first time in my life, I saw something I never thought I’d witness.
Damien my ex-husband, the man who used to control everything about me,hesitated.
He looked between us, trying to read the situation, and when I didn’t say anything, his face twisted with disgust. "You’re pathetic," he spat at me before turning on his heel and storming away.
I should have felt relief. But I didn't.
My breath was still uneven, my skin burning with the ghost of Damien’s touch. I hated that he could still shake me. That he could make me feel small with just a few words.
But the man standing in front of me? He was something else entirely.
though I didn’t know his name yet, he stood there, his presence taking up all the space, all the air. He wasn’t just a man; he was a force, watching me with those sharp, assessing eyes like he was unraveling me thread by thread.
"You looked like you needed saving," he said, voice smooth and taunting. "So, I did."
I straightened my spine. "I didn’t ask for your help."
His lips curled into a slow smirk. "No. But you needed it."
Something about the way he said it,so sure, so damn cocky sent heat rising to my cheeks. I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself.
"What the hell was that back there?" I demanded, forcing strength into my voice. "Why did you call me your girlfriend? And soon to be wife? What kind of sick game are you playing?"
He took a step closer, the scent of expensive cologne and danger rolling off him. "It worked, didn’t it?"
I blinked. "What?"
"It got him off you." His voice was slow, deliberate. "Or would you rather I let him keep touching you?"
I stiffened. "That’s not the point."
"Isn’t it?" He studied me, his gaze dragging over my face like he was memorizing every reaction. "You might not want to admit it, sweetheart, but you’re not as strong as you think."
Anger flared in my chest. "Excuse me?"
His smirk deepened, but there was something darker beneath it. "Just last night, you walked up to a total stranger, me, without hesitation. You confronted me like you had nothing to fear." He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "But today? You couldn’t even stand your ground against that guy."
The words hit like a slap.
Because he was right.
Last night, I had challenged him, unafraid, unaware of who he was. But the second Damien had stepped in, I had hesitated.
I hated that he noticed.
I hated even more that I had proved him right.
"You don’t know anything about me," I snapped.
He let out a low hum, almost like he was amused. "Not yet."
I narrowed my eyes. "Yet?"
Something flickered in his gaze,something unreadable. Then, after a long, unbearable pause, he spoke.
"Ronan."
I frowned. "What?"
He stepped even closer, and I had to fight the urge to step back. "My name," he murmured, eyes never leaving mine. "Ronan Kane."
I swallowed hard. His name rolled through my mind, settling in a way that felt dangerous.
I knew, in that moment, that Ronan Kane wasn’t just some random guy who had helped me.
No.
He was something much worse.
And he had just decided I was worth his attention.
- Writer
