Chapter 3: The Game Begins

Ella’s POV

The knock came again.

Slow. Unrushed. Certain.

“Miss Monroe,” a voice said from the other side of the door, smooth and amused. “May I come in?”

My hand hovered inches from the handle.

I knew that voice. I also knew that opening the door would change something—even if nothing happened.

And that scared me more than if it did.

“Yes,” I said quietly, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

The door opened, and Lucian Blackwood stepped inside like he belonged there. Like he owned the space. Like my room was just another place he had decided to occupy.

He didn’t rush. Didn’t crowd me. He only looked.

“Hello, Ella,” he said, as if we were old acquaintances. His gaze moved slowly, deliberately, taking me in—not my body, not in a crude way, but me. My posture. My hands. The way my shoulders were drawn just a little too tight.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He smiled faintly. “You invited me.”

“I did not.”

“You opened the door.”

I frowned. “That’s not the same thing.”

Lucian chuckled softly. “No. But it’s close enough.”

He took a step farther into the room. Not toward me—past me. As if he didn’t need my permission to exist near me. As if the air between us was already shared.

“I just wanted to see how you were settling in,” he said lightly. “This place can be… overwhelming.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly.

“I know,” he replied. “That’s what’s interesting.”

I crossed my arms. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You keep saying that,” he said, turning to face me again. “And yet you haven’t asked me to leave.”

“I’m asking now.”

Lucian studied my face, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he stepped closer—not close enough to touch, but close enough that I felt him. Heat. Presence. Intention.

“You’re very good at resisting,” he said quietly. “Most people in this house don’t bother. They give in to what they want. Or what they think they want.”

“And what do you think I want?” I asked, sharper than I meant to.

His eyes flicked to mine. Something dark stirred there. “Not me,” he said. “Not yet.”

My breath caught despite myself.

“I’m not here to seduce you,” he continued, voice low. “I’m here to make sure you understand the rules of this place.”

“What rules?”

“That attention is currency,” he said. “That desire is leverage. And that the moment someone notices you… you stop being invisible.”

I swallowed. “I didn’t ask for attention.”

“No one ever does,” he replied. “That doesn’t stop it from finding you.”

He stepped back then, giving me space just as suddenly as he’d taken it.

“Think of this as a warning,” he said lightly. “People here don’t always want what they say they want. And sometimes”—his smile curved—“they want what they’re not supposed to touch.”

“I’m not something to be touched,” I said.

Lucian’s gaze sharpened—not offended, but intrigued. “That,” he said softly, “is entirely up to you.”

He turned toward the door.

“I’ll leave you to settle in,” he added. “But don’t mistake my absence for disinterest. I enjoy watching people think.”

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Only then did I realize I’d been holding my breath.

I sat down hard on the edge of the bed, heart racing, mind buzzing. Nothing had happened. No touch. No threat. No promise.

And yet I felt unsettled. Exposed. As if he’d peeled back a layer I hadn’t known was there.

“He’s just a man,” I whispered.

But my pulse refused to calm.

Hours later, unable to sleep, I slipped out into the hallway. The estate felt different at night—quieter, heavier. Like it was holding secrets in its walls.

That’s when I heard it.

Not voices. Not words.

Movement.

I slowed, my curiosity warring with instinct. A door ahead stood slightly ajar, warm light spilling into the corridor. Shadows moved inside—overlapping, close, deliberate.

I didn’t see faces. I didn’t need to.

The rhythm. The closeness. The unmistakable intimacy.

My chest tightened.

I should have turned away.

Instead, I stood there for a moment too long, my mind struggling to reconcile the polished world of the estate with the raw reality hidden just behind closed doors.

This house didn’t just watch.

It indulged.

I backed away quietly, heart pounding, and returned to my room with more questions than answers.

And one terrifying realization settling deep in my bones:

This wasn’t just a place of power.

It was a place of temptation.

And I was already inside the game.