CHAPTER TWO

Amber knew she had made a mistake the moment the gates opened. Not a small mistake. She knew she made a life-changing one. Because nothing about this place said home.

Everything about it screamed power.

⸻

The SUV rolled into a compound that looked less like a residence and more like a fortress. High walls. Armed guards. Cameras that followed movement like hungry eyes. Amber swallowed slowly.

“You live here?” she asked, her voice steady—but her fingers betrayed her, curling tightly into her palms. Raymond didn’t look at her. “I rule here.”

That difference mattered. And Amber felt it.

⸻ The car stopped. The door opened.

Amber stepped out, her bare feet touching cold marble instead of wet pavement because she’s isn’t wearing slippers. The contrast made her uneasy. Too clean. Too controlled. Too… him.

Before she could take in more, a group of men approached. Large. Silent. Dangerous.

They stopped a few feet away and lowered their heads slightly. Respect. Fear. Loyalty.

Amber’s eyes flicked to Raymond. He didn’t acknowledge them.

Didn’t need to.

Power didn’t beg for attention—it commanded it.

⸻

“Alpha,” one of them said carefully. “There’s been movement from the East Pack.”

Raymond’s expression didn’t change. “Handle it.”

“They’re asking about the girl.” Silence.

Amber felt every eye shift—subtle, but there. On her.

Measuring. Judging.

Weighing her worth.

Raymond finally turned, Slowly but Dangerously.

“She’s not a topic,” he said. “She’s a warning.”

The man nodded quickly. “Yes, Alpha.”

They stepped back. Disappeared. Just like that.

⸻

Amber exhaled. “You enjoy this, don’t you?” she said.

Raymond glanced at her. “Enjoy what?” “People being afraid of you.” He studied her for a moment.

Then—

“I prefer control.” Amber scoffed softly. “That’s the same thing.”

“No,” he said quietly. “Fear fades. Control doesn’t.”

The way he said it— It wasn’t a theory. It was experience.

⸻ They walked inside.

Amber’s steps slowed without her permission.

The interior was worse.

Dark wood. Low lighting. Expensive, but not flashy.

Everything felt intentional. Like nothing existed without purpose. Like nothing was allowed to.

“Why bring me here?” she asked.

Raymond stopped walking. Turned.

“Because if you’re under my roof, no one touches you.” Amber crossed her arms. “And if I don’t want your protection?” His eyes hardened slightly.

“That stopped being your decision the moment they came for you.” The truth of it stung. Because he wasn’t wrong.

⸻

Amber moved past him. “I’m not staying.” She headed toward the door. Didn’t even reach it.

Raymond’s hand caught her wrist. Firm. Unyielding.

Her breath caught instantly. Not just from the grip—

But from the sudden closeness. His voice dropped.

“Don’t test boundaries you don’t understand. Amber yanked her hand, but he didn’t let go. “I’ve been surviving on my own long before you showed up.”

“And look where that got you.” The words hit hard.

Amber’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

“No,” he said. “But you needed it.” Silence fell between them.

Heavy. Sharp. Alive.

⸻

Amber’s pulse raced—but she didn’t look away.

“I won’t marry you.” Raymond stepped closer.

Now there was no space left between them. “You will.” Her chest rose. “Or what?”

His gaze dropped again—just briefly—to her lips.

Then back up. “Or you’ll lose everything your mother left behind.” Her jaw tightened.

“You keep saying that like it’s supposed to scare me.” “It should.” He said.

His voice lowered further. “Because your mother didn’t just leave money.” Amber froze. Her heart skipped. “What do you mean?” Raymond released her wrist slowly. Too slowly.

Like he was aware of every second of contact.

“Ask your father,” he said. “I don’t trust him.” “Good.”

That surprised her. Amber frowned. “Then tell me.”

Raymond turned away. Walking toward the staircase. “I will.” “When you become my wife.”

⸻

Anger flared instantly. “You’re manipulating me.”

He stopped. Didn’t turn. “Yes.”

The bluntness knocked the air out of her. Amber stared at his back. “You don’t even hide it?”

“No.” “Why?”

Raymond finally looked over his shoulder. His eyes darker now. More dangerous. “Because you’re not weak.” That caught her off guard. “And lies are for weak people.”

⸻

Amber didn’t know what to say to that. So she changed direction. Emotionally. Dangerously.

“Do you treat all your… wives like this?” A beat.

Raymond’s expression shifted—just slightly.

Something colder. “I don’t have wives.” “Girlfriends?”

“No.” “Lovers?” Silence. Then—

“I don’t mix power with attachment.” Amber tilted her head. “Then why marry me?” That question lingered longer than the others. Because this time—

Raymond didn’t answer immediately.

⸻

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. More controlled. More… personal. “Because you’re not just a girl on the street, Amber.” Her breath slowed.

“You’re a problem someone is trying to erase.” A pause. “And I don’t let anyone erase something that belongs in my territory.” There it was again. That word. Territory. Not partner. Not equal. Not choice.

Amber stepped closer to him now. Closing the distance herself this time. Her voice softened—but only slightly. “I’m not yours.” Raymond didn’t move.

Didn’t react. But his eyes— They changed. Darkened.

Focused. “You keep saying that,” he murmured.

“Because it’s true.” Another step closer. Now she could feel his breath. His heat. His control. “And yet,” he said quietly, “you’re still here.”

⸻

The tension snapped tight between them. Not soft.

Not romantic. But charged. Dangerous. Alive. Amber’s lips parted slightly— Then she stepped back. Breaking it. On purpose. “I’m only here because I need answers.” Raymond nodded once.

“And you’ll get them.” “How?” His gaze locked onto hers again. Unshakable. “By surviving long enough.”

A sudden sound cut through the moment. A phone ringing. Sharp. Urgent. One of the guards rushed in.

“Alpha—there’s been a breach.” Raymond’s posture changed instantly. All emotion—gone.

Replaced by command. “Where?” “The holding wing.” Amber’s stomach dropped. “Who’s in the holding wing?” Raymond didn’t answer her. But the look in his eyes did. Trouble. Big trouble.

⸻

He turned to leave—then stopped. Looked back at her.

“For once,” he said quietly, “do exactly as I say.”

Amber’s heart pounded. “What’s happening?”

His voice dropped. Lethal.

“Your past just walked into my house.”

He left. Fast. Silent. Deadly.

Amber stood frozen. Mind racing. Heart screaming.

Because something told her— This wasn’t just about enemies. This wasn’t just about packs.

⸻

This was about her mother.