Prisoner of The Estate

I stood on the driveway outside Ares' massive estate, clutching the handle of my single piece of luggage. 

My face was pulled into a deep, pissed-off scowl as I looked up at the building. After the chaotic show we just pulled off at the Vane Headquarters boardroom, the reality of our business alliance had finally set in. I had to live with him.

Movement by the grand front entrance caught my eye. Ares was standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me with a cold, unreadable expression.

I rolled my eyes dramatically, letting out a loud, annoyed sigh. Without saying a single word, I let go of my bag, leaving it sitting right there on the pavement, and marched past him straight into the house. 

As I brushed past his shoulder, I shot him a smirk, making it completely obvious that I expected him to carry my stuff inside. Ares didn't say anything, but I saw his jaw tick in pure annoyance.

A butler quickly appeared, bowing slightly before guiding me up the wide staircase. I followed him down a long hallway until he opened a door to a large, empty bedroom.

"This is your assigned room, Mr. Vane," the butler said politely before bowing and leaving the room.

I stepped inside and heard the door click shut behind me. I huffed, looking around the walls, and mutters under my breath, "Keeps me like a fucking prisoner."

I wasn't going to sit around like a helpless captive, though. I turned back to the room and immediately went to work. I dragged a large armchair across the carpet, shoving it firmly against the door handle. 

Next, I took a long metal rack from the closet and wedged it under the frame, completely blocking the entrance. It wasn't a military bunker, but it would take a lot of effort for anyone to burst inside.

When a maid knocked an hour later, announcing she had brought a tray of food, I didn't answer.

"Leave it outside," I barked.

"But Mr. Sterling said you must eat, sir," her voice came through the crack. "It is healthy for—"

"I said leave it!" I shouted, my voice dripping with venom.

I had no intention of touching anything provided by Ares. For all I knew, he could be drugging me to keep this pathetic Omega body compliant. 

Instead, I stripped off my suit jacket, rolled up my sleeves, and dropped to the floor. If I wanted to find a way out of this nightmare, I needed my military strength back. I couldn't rely on a body that felt like mush.

I started with push-ups. One. Two. Three. By the tenth repetition, my arms were shaking violently. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead, and my breath came in rough gasps. It was humiliating. In my past life, I could do a hundred without breaking a sweat.

"Come on," I growled to myself, forcing my weight back down. "Move."

I kept pushing, ignoring the protest of my muscles. I moved to the carpeted floor near the bed, forcing myself through intense core exercises, then stood up to practice basic striking drills. 

I punched the empty air, over and over, until the skin on my knuckles split against the friction of my own movements, leaving small drops of red on my cuffs. I didn't care about the pain. I needed to feel like a soldier again. I needed to forget the disgust of carrying a child for a man.

Late into the evening, the electronic lock beeped again. The armchair groaned against the door as someone tried to push it open from the outside.

"Julian, open the door," Ares' voice commanded from the hallway. He sounded annoyed.

"Go to hell, Sterling!" I yelled, grabbing a glass vase from the dresser.

The door violently shoved forward, forcing the armchair out of the way with a loud scrape. Ares stepped into the room, his eyes instantly taking in the barricade, the untouched food tray by the hallway, and my bloody knuckles.

"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded, taking a step toward me.

"I told you to stay away from me!" I screamed. I hurled the glass vase straight at his face with everything I had left.

Ares ducked his head quickly, the vase missing him by an inch and shattering loudly against the wall behind him. He stopped walking, his expression hardening into anger.

"You are acting like a lunatic," Ares said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You haven't eaten all day. You are going to harm yourself."

"I don't take orders from a civilian bastard like you!" I took a step forward to confront him, but the moment I moved, pain sliced through my lower abdomen.

It felt like a blade turning inside my gut. My vision went completely black for a second, and my knees buckled. I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my stomach as a terrifying, burning fever suddenly exploded through my entire body. My skin felt like it was on fire, and I couldn't catch my breath.

No, no, no, my mind panicked. It wasn't just a fever. My stubborn refusal to accept this body, my constant rejection of Ares' presence, and the brutal exercise had pushed my unstable pregnancy to a breaking point. My core was rejecting itself, threatening to miscarry right there on the carpet.

"Julian!" Ares shouted.

I heard his footsteps rushing toward me. Driven by fear and denial, I tried to raise my fists as he reached down. I threw a weak, pathetic punch at his chest. "Don't... touch me..."

Ares completely ignored my swinging hands. He reached down, gathered my shaking frame into his arms, and lifted me easily, pulling me tightly against his broad chest. 

He sat back against the side of the bed, trapping my arms and legs within his large, iron-like grip so I couldn't thrash around and hurt myself further.

"Let me go," I choked out, a tear of agony slipping down my cheek. "Let go..."

"Be quiet and breathe," Ares growled near my ear.

Suddenly, a thick, overpowering wave of his scent flooded the small space between us. It was a suffocating, dominant Alpha aura that smelled intensely of deep rain and forest trees.

My mind screamed in horror, wanting to reject him, wanting to fight everything of this world. But my weak Omega body didn't care about my pride. The moment his pheromones hit my skin, the burning fire in my blood began to cool. 

My violently cramping stomach slowly relaxed, the pain fading into a dull ache. My trembling muscles went completely soft, automatically slumping against his chest as my body practically begged for more of his comfort just to keep the baby alive.

I clutched his shirt, my face buried against his shoulder as I calmed my racing heart. I hated this world. I hated my broken body. But most of all, I hated the terrifying fact that I craved a man just to survive.