His wife His prisoner

Chapter 2: Warning

Life did not suddenly change after meeting Henry.

It stayed familiar, structured, and predictable, just the way I liked it. I still woke up early, got ready for work, and spent most of my day buried in numbers, meetings, and client reports.

The bank had always been my safe place, somewhere I could focus without distractions, and I had worked hard to earn that stability.

Henry did not try to disrupt that. Instead, he slowly became part of it.

At first, it was simple. A message in the morning asking if I had gotten to work safely, a short call in the evening asking how my day went, and sometimes a suggestion to meet for dinner when we were both free. It did not feel overwhelming or rushed. If anything, it felt calm and measured, like something that was growing at the right pace.

“Are you still at the office?” he asked one evening when I picked up his call.

“Yes,” I replied, glancing at the stack of files on my desk. “I still have a few things to finish.”

“You always say that,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Do you ever leave early?”he asked.

“Rarely.”

There was a brief pause on the line before he spoke again, his tone lighter this time.

“Then let me come and get you when you’re done.”

I hesitated for a moment. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he replied. “I want to.”

Something about the way he said it made it hard to refuse.

“Alright,” I said finally. “Give me an hour.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said.

When I stepped out of the building later that night, he was already there, leaning casually against his car like he had nowhere else to be. He straightened when he saw me, that same confident smile appearing on his face.

“You took longer than an hour,” he said.

“I had work to finish,” I replied, trying not to smile.

“I’m starting to think your job is more important than me,”he said.

“It is,” I said without hesitation.

He laughed. “At least you’re honest.”

We went to a small restaurant not too far from the office, somewhere quiet enough to talk without raising our voices. The conversation was easy, just like it had always been with him. He asked about my day, listened when I spoke, and never interrupted, which was something I had started to notice and appreciate.

“You’re different when you talk about work,” he said at some point, watching me closely.

I looked up. “Different how?”

“You’re more relaxed,” he said. “Like that’s where you feel most like yourself.”

I thought about it for a second before nodding.

“Maybe.”i said.

He leaned back slightly, still studying me. “I like that version of you.”

I did not know what to say to that, so I just smiled and looked down at my plate.

There was something about Henry that made things feel simple, at least on the surface. He did not push too hard, he did not ask questions that felt uncomfortable, and he always seemed to know when to step back. It made it easy to spend time with him, easier than I expected.

And that was exactly why I did not question it.

Not at first.

The next day at work felt normal until it wasn’t.

“Ruby,” Selena called from behind me.

I did not need to turn to know it was her. I could always recognize her voice, steady but never completely soft. I continued typing for a few seconds before glancing back.

“What is it?”

She walked over to my desk, her eyes moving quickly over the documents in front of me before settling on my face.

“I saw you yesterday,” she said.

“Saw me?” I asked.

“With him,” she replied. “Henry Blackwood.”

I paused, then leaned back slightly in my chair. “Okay.”

“That’s it?” she asked.

“What else do you want me to say?” I replied.

Selena folded her arms, her expression calm but her eyes sharp.

“You looked comfortable,” she said.

I let out a small breath. “I was just having dinner.”

“With a man like that,” she added.

I frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”

“You know exactly what it means, Ruby,” she said.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice even though no one was paying attention to us.

“Men like him don’t just show up in people’s lives for no reason,” she said.

I held her gaze. “Maybe he just wanted to have dinner.”

Selena smiled faintly, but it was not the kind of smile that made you feel at ease.

“You’ve always been like this,” she said. “You believe things are simple, even when they’re not.”

“You’re my sister, not my guardian,” I said. “I can make my own decisions.”

“And I am saying this because I am your sister,” she replied immediately. “Because I know how you get when you start trusting someone too quickly.”she added.

I looked away for a moment, trying to keep my voice calm.

“I am not trusting him,” I said. “I am just getting to know him.”

Selena nodded slowly, but I could tell she was not convinced.

“Just be careful,” she said.

I sighed. “You worry too much.”

She looked at me for a moment, then shook her head slightly.

“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t worry enough.”

Then she turned and walked away like the conversation was over.

I sat there for a few seconds, staring at my screen without really seeing anything.

This was not new.

Selena had always been like this, always questioning, always watching, especially when things in my life started to feel good.

I told myself it was just how she was and that it did not mean anything.

Later that evening, Clara leaned against my desk with a knowing look on her face.

“So,” she said. “I heard something.”

I looked up at her. “You always hear something.”

She smiled. “That’s because people talk, and you give them something to talk about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, even though I did.

“Henry Blackwood,” she said immediately. “That’s what I’m talking about.”she added.

I sighed. “It’s nothing serious.”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “It never starts seriously.”

“We’ve just been spending time together,” I said.

“And?” she pressed.

“And nothing,” I replied.

She watched me for a moment, then smiled softly.

“Well, you look happier,” she said. “That’s a good thing.”

I smiled back, but it did not last long.

“Just be careful,” she added.

I frowned slightly. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Clara shrugged. “Because men like him don’t usually come without complications.”

I looked down at my desk, her words settling in my mind in a way I did not like.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe they were just overthinking things.

Or maybe I was choosing not to see something.

That night, as I lay in bed, I found myself replaying the day over and over again. Selena’s tone, Clara's expression, the way both of them had said the same thing, just in different ways.

Be careful.

I stared at the ceiling, letting out a quiet breath.

I wanted to trust him. I wanted to believe that someone like Henry Blackwood could be completely genuine. That there was nothing hidden behind the way he looked at me or the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say.

But even in the middle of that calm feeling he brought into my life, there were moments that did not sit right.

The way he watched me sometimes, like he was trying to understand something deeper.

The way he remembered small details I did not even realize I had shared.

And the way people around me kept reacting to him like he was more than just a man I was getting to know. I turned to my side, closing my eyes slowly.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe I was just overthinking things.

Or maybe, without realizing it, something had already started shifting.

And I just had not seen it yet.