Chapter 3 - Cillian

Cillian

She’s shaking. Trying not to show it. Trying to hold herself together like she still has some kind of control over this situation. She doesn’t.

The elevator is silent except for the sound of her breathing, too fast, too uneven. I watch her from across the space, my hands in my pockets, taking in every small detail. The way her shoulders stay tense. The way her fingers curl slightly at her sides. The way she keeps glancing at the doors like she’s calculating the distance.

Christ. She’s still thinking about running. Bold, but also stupid. And fucking dangerous for her. My gaze drags over her slowly. Not in a rush. Not careless. Measured.

The diamonds are still around her neck. Good. They suit her. They look like they belong there. Like she belongs in them.

She looks up suddenly, catching me watching her. “What are you looking at?” she snaps.

There it is. That fire again. I don’t react. Don’t move.

“Making sure you don’t do something stupid again.”

Her jaw tightens. “I tried to leave.”

“Aye,” I say calmly. “And you failed.”

Her expression hardens. She hates that. Good.The elevator dings. The doors open. And she freezes. Of course she does.

The penthouse stretches out in front of us, glass, steel, city lights bleeding through every wall. Power. Control. Everything I’ve built. Everything I own. And now… She’s part of it.

“Go,” I tell her.

She doesn’t move. “No.”

I don’t even think. I just move. Two steps. That’s all it takes. I’m in front of her before she can react. Before she can even think about stepping back. My hand comes up, one finger under her chin. Tilting her head back. Forcing her to look at me.

Her breath catches. Good. Up close, she’s worse, or better, I don’t know yet… Too fucking expressive. Too easy to read. Fear. Anger. Defiance. All mixed together.

“Don’t test me,” I say quietly.

She swallows. Still trying to hold her ground. “I’m not…”

My grip tightens slightly. Just enough. Not to hurt. To make a point.

“Move,” I repeat, my voice lower now. “Or I’ll make you move.”

There it is. That flicker. That moment where she realizes this isn’t a game. She nods. And she moves. Walks past me. Into my space. Into my world. Good girl.

I follow her in, slower this time, watching. She looks around like she’s trying to understand where she is. Like she’s trying to figure out how deep she’s fallen. Too fucking deep.

Behind us, the others move. Declan. Ronan. Liam. Straight to the office. No questions. No hesitation. They know better. This part is mine. I stop a few feet behind her. Hands back in my pockets. Letting her take it in. Letting it settle.

She turns slightly. “What is this?” she asks. “What do you want from me?”

Straight to it. I almost respect that. “You’ll stay here,” I say.

She blinks. “What?”

“You’ll have your own room. You’ll follow the rules. You don’t leave unless I say so.”

Her entire body stiffens. “No.” Fucking Christ. “I’m serious,” she snaps, taking a step back. “You can’t just keep me here.”

“I can,” I say simply.  Because I can. Because I already am.

She laughs. Sharp. Disbelieving. “You’re insane.”

That’s where she fucks up. I close the distance in two steps. Fast. Controlled. Her back hits the wall. My hand comes up, bracing against it beside her head. Caging her in. She sucks in a breath. Eyes wide.

Good. Now she’s paying attention.

“You’ll play your part,” I tell her.

Her brows pull together. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll make a statement,” I continue. “Tell the world I found the love of my life.”

Her lips part slightly. Confused. Shocked.

“I’ve been keeping you hidden,” I go on. “Private. Protected.”

“That’s…” she starts.

“We’ll get married.” Silence. Heavy. Her chest rises sharply. “And you’ll give me an heir.”

There it is. The moment it hits her. The moment she understands this isn’t temporary. This isn’t negotiable.

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” she whispers.

Maybe, but that doesn’t change anything.

“And when the child is old enough,” I add, my voice steady, controlled, “we’ll divorce.”

Her fingers press into the wall behind her.

“You’ll walk away rich,” I finish. “More money than you’ll ever need.”

She stares at me. Like she’s trying to find the part of this that makes sense.

“You think I’m going to agree to that?” she asks.

I hold her gaze. Don’t move. Don’t blink.

“You don’t have a choice.” The words land exactly how they’re meant to. She shakes her head.

“That’s not how this works. You can’t just force…”

“I can.” And I will.

Silence stretches between us. Thick. Tense. I lean in slightly. Close enough that she feels it.

“If you fight this…” I say quietly, my voice dropping. “If you try to run again…” Her breath stutters. “It won’t end well for you.” I see it then. The shift. The fear settling in properly this time. Good. “People disappear every day,” I add. “No one asks questions.”

A tear threatens in her eye. She blinks it back. Still fighting. Fuck…“You either accept it,” I finish, pulling back just enough to look at her properly, “and play your part…” Her chest rises sharply. “Or you don’t make it out of this alive.”

Silence. She stares at me as if she hates me, like she wants to tear me apart.

Good. Hate is better than fear. Easier to control. This was supposed to be simple. A transaction. A solution. A woman I wouldn’t give a single fuck about. But the way she looks at me… The way she refuses to bend… Christ. This is already getting complicated.