Chapter 7

*Laurie*

His breath was hot against my skin, sinking into me, making my pulse race. Theron’s lips barely brushed my ear in a teasing touch, before he whispered,

"You're trembling, Cookie."

I stiffened, stepping away before I could drown in whatever this was. I turned to face him, my heart hammering in my chest. Fuck! This can't be happening, Laurie!

"I… I'm not trembling," I lied.

His smirk deepened. "Lying so soon?"

I clenched my fists. How does he affect me so effortlessly?

"Why are you doing this?"

Theron tilted his head, watching me like a predator assessing prey. "Doing what?"

"Playing games," I shot back.

"You have me locked in your house, and now you're acting like… like…"

"Like what?" He stepped closer, and my back met the cool edge of the jeweler's workbench.

"Like I own you?" He asked, his fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to hold his dark, unreadable gaze. "Because I do, Cookie." He let a sinister smirk settle on his face.

I swallowed hard. "I won’t be your puppet, Theron. You own me, but… I still have rights to myself"

"Good." His thumb grazed my lower lip, slow, deliberate. “I bought you! And now you're mine… You don't have any ‘right’ to yourself, but…”

"I don’t like puppets. I like fire. I like to break fire… and love that you are hotter than fire."

I slapped his hand away, my breath coming faster than I liked. "You don’t scare me." Hell, I was shivering in my soul. This man… he was daring like Dracula.

He chuckled. His chuckle was deep and rich, laced with something dangerous. "You should be scared."

His fingers skimmed my waist, barely touching, yet igniting something forbidden within me. I should have stepped away, but my body refused to listen.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to move. I took a step back, putting space between us.

"I don’t understand you," I admitted.

"One moment, you make me feel like a prisoner, and the next… You give me this?" I gestured around the jewelry room. "And then you make me feel worthless?"

Theron’s dark eyes glimmered with amusement. "A contradiction, isn’t it?" His fingers traced the edge of a velvet-lined case before flipping it open.

Inside, a breathtaking sapphire necklace glowed under the soft light. "I don’t believe in cages, but I do believe in ownership."

A shiver ran down my spine at the way he said it.

"You bought me," I said, trying hard to sound good but I was shaking slightly.

His smirk deepened. "I did." He lifted the necklace. "Turn around."

I hesitated, my breath was still unsteady. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension.

When I didn’t move, his brow arched, daring me to defy him.

Slowly, I turned.

His fingers brushed my neck as he swept my hair aside, his touch lingering just long enough to make my pulse quicken. The necklace was cold against my skin, a stark contrast to his warmth.

"It suits you," he murmured, his lips close enough that I could feel them without him even touching me.

I clenched my fists. He was playing with me again. Testing me. Teasing my soul.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked again.

Theron fastened the clasp and let his fingers linger. "Because you interest me."

A knock at the door shattered the moment.

I jolted, my breath hitching.

Theron sighed, taking a step back. His presence left a void in the air, as if the room itself exhaled relief. His expression darkened, irritation flickering in his gaze.

He turned toward the door but didn’t open it. Instead, his voice was sharp as he said, "What?"

A muffled voice answered from the other side. "Sir, the guest has arrived."

Theron exhaled slowly, as if weighing his patience. Then, without another glance at me, he walked out, shutting the door firmly behind him.

I stared at the closed door, my mind spinning. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

The air still carried his presence. A ghostly imprint of warmth and danger. I exhaled, placing a hand over my chest to steady my erratic heartbeat.

What was I doing?

Why did I let him get so close?

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. I needed to ground myself. I needed something familiar… something I could control.

My gaze drifted back to the workbenches, to the gemstones and tools waiting silently.

A jeweler’s dream.

I slowly took off the necklace and placed it back into its case. I took slow, careful steps towards the nearest bench, my fingers ghosting over the tools.

Pliers. Files. Tiny hammers.

The weight of them was comforting, steady. Unlike the chaos Theron brought, this… this was something I understood.

I ran my fingers over a loose emerald, its deep green glistening under the light. I picked it up, turning it between my fingers. The color reminded me of forests, of things untouched and free.

The word burned in my mind.

Without another thought, I reached for a sketchpad, flipping to a blank page. My fingers curled around a pencil, and I let instinct take over.

Lines formed. Shapes. Shadows. A design emerging from the depths of my mind.

The masterpiece took shape before me… delicate yet bold, fierce yet beautiful. I fell in love with it at first glance. When was the last time I made a sketch? I can't recall.

For the first time since stepping into Theron's mansion, I felt like I belonged to myself again. Well, I didn't really step in, I woke up here. I stayed deep into the drawing. I could create this piece myself.

****

The tip of my chisel glided over the metal, shaping it with precision. Each movement felt instinctive, a rhythm I seem to have long forgotten since I married Clayton.

The sapphire gleamed under the light, set within silver vines.

The world outside faded. My hands were steady and sure, working tirelessly, molding beauty from raw elements.

Here, I felt I was in control of everything. I belonged to no one.

Then…

A sound.

The faint creak of the door.

I stilled.

A familiar presence filled the room, thick and consuming. Theron.

His footsteps were slow, deliberate. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The air between us carried enough tension to make my heart race.

Still, I refused to turn.

"You're still here," he finally said. A statement, not a question.

My fingers tightened around the sapphire. "Where else would I be?"

"You tell me." His voice was silk over steel. "Given your character, I expected you to fight back by now."

I exhaled through my nose, keeping my focus on my work. "You think I’d waste my energy on something so obvious?"

He let out a low chuckle. "Smart girl."

Silence stretched between us. I felt his gaze trace every detail. From the scattered tools to the half-finished piece in my hands.

"You made that?"

I lifted the necklace slightly, allowing the gemstone to catch the light. "It’s not finished."

Theron reached out, fingertips brushing the edge of the workbench. "You work fast."

"When I know what I want." I countered.

He paused. His gaze sharpened. "And what is it that you want, Laurie?"

The way he said my name sent a slow ripple down my spine.

I wanted to say freedom.

I wanted to say revenge.

But I lifted the sapphire instead. "To finish this."

Theron studied me for a long moment, then shook his head.

"Later," he said. "Pause for now and come downstairs. Lunch is waiting."

I blinked, as if breaking out of a trance. My fingers ached from holding the tools too tightly.

Lunch?

I glanced at the clock on the far wall that I had barely noticed the moment I walked in, my stomach twisting when I realized how much time had passed. It was well past noon. Hours had slipped away while I worked. Sigh!

"I'm not hungry," I muttered, setting down the necklace.

Theron's lips twitched. "That’s a lie."

I hesitated. Something in his calm yet domineering tone made it clear he wouldn’t let me stay.

"Come, Cookie." He turned toward the door. "Unless you’d rather I carry you?"

I shot him a glare but pushed away from the workbench, my body reluctant to follow even as my feet moved.

I trailed behind him, silently noting every turn he took, every door he passed. I needed to understand this place and to map it out in my head.

When Theron finally stopped, he pushed open a grand set of doors, revealing an elegant dining room.

My steps faltered.

The table was draped in pristine white linen, adorned with silverware and crystal glasses. But it was the food that caught my attention.

Oh, divine creator…

An array of rich, mouthwatering dishes lay out as if awaiting a royal king. The scent of rice, warm bread, seared meat, and spices curled in the air, teasing my senses.

I straightened my spine, feigning indifference. "I told you, I’m not…"

A loud growl rumbled from my stomach. Fuck! I froze. What now?

Theron’s smirk was instant. Amusement flickered in his dark eyes as he turned to face me fully.

"Not hungry?" he echoed, arching a brow. Heat flooded my cheeks. Damn it.