35

Hayden’s POV

I watched as Emerald ran out happily, her laughter echoing through the corridor.

“Did you see the way she ran?” I muttered, still staring at the door Emerald had disappeared through.

“She’s a child,” Livia replied quietly, staring at her fingers.

“A clever child,” I corrected, folding my arms. “And clever children survive.”

“She shouldn’t have to survive anything in this house,” Livia said softly.

I turned slowly toward her. “Everything in this world is survival, Livia. You of all people should know that.” I stated.

“You keep saying that,” she said without looking at me, her eyes fixed on the gardens outside. 

“But the way you say it makes it sound like a justification,” she said.

“A justification for what?” I asked, confused about what she was trying to say.

“For control,” she muttered silently, almost like a whisper.

My jaw tightened. “Careful,” I warned.

“I’m not insulting you,” she said calmly. “I’m observing you.”

“Observing me?” I laughed dryly. “That’s rich coming from someone who sits by a window all day pretending the world outside will magically fix itself.” I mocked.

“I’m not pretending anything,” livia replied, defending herself.

“Then what are you doing?” I demanded, voice low but firm.

“Breathing,” she replied without thinking for a second.

The word landed heavier than it should have.

“Breathing?” I repeated, stepping closer.

“You think I dragged you out of the hell you were living in just so you could sit here and breathe like some broken porcelain doll?” I asked, my voice high as my anger began to rise.

“I didn’t ask you to drag me anywhere,” she said.

“And yet you are alive because I did.” I corrected it.

Silence stretched between us for a while as the atmosphere shifted.

I walked closer until I stood beside the chair, towering over her.

“You are distracted,” I said, my voice lowering into a warning.

Immediately, her shoulders stiffened. “I don’t like that look on your face,” I continued.

“What look?” she asked, looking at me.

“That empty look. That ‘I’m somewhere else’ look.” I stated.

“I’m sitting right here,” she said, confusion on her face.

“No,” I said sharply. “Your body is here but your mind is wandering somewhere it shouldn’t.”

“I’m allowed to think,” she said, defending herself.

“You are allowed to think within reason,” I stated.

“That’s not thinking,” she said quietly. “That’s permission.”

My patience thinned as I watched her closely.

“I have been hearing things,” I said, my tone turning cold.

“Things?” she asked as I could the shock on her face. The way she jetted immediately, I said those words.

“Rumours.” I corrected, and she could not respond again.

“Zach’s men,” I continued slowly. “Spotted near the estate perimeter some days back.” 

Her fingers twitched slightly on the armrest and I noticed the uncertainty and the fear building in her.

“So imagine my curiosity,” I murmured, stepping closer, “when the woman I supposedly rescued starts staring out the window like she’s waiting for someone.”

“I’m not waiting for anyone,” she snapped immediately.

“Really?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yes, because it almost looks like hope.” I said.

“I don’t have hope,” she replied.

“Good,” I said flatly. “Hope makes people stupid,” I said.

“I already know that,” she affirmed.

I reached down and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at me. Her eyes met mine without resistance.

That annoyed me more than if she had struggled.

“Whatever you are thinking,” I said slowly, “stop it because it will do you no good.” 

“I’m not thinking about Zach,” she said almost immediately.

“You didn’t even let me say his name,” I said, surprised written all over my face.

“You didn’t have to,” she said coldly.

My grip tightened slightly as I looked at her with disdain. “You belong to this house,” I said, my voice full of range.

Her voice remained steady. “A house is made of walls.” she finally muttered.

“And you belong to me.” I corrected it immediately.

“A person is not furniture,” she said defensively.

“Don’t test me,” I warned, trying to hold my anger.

“I’m not testing you,” she said softly.

“You are too calm.” I stated.

“Would you prefer tears?” she asked, staring at me.

“Yes,” I snapped. “At least tears are honest.” I snapped.

“Crying won’t change anything,” she said calmly.

“No,” I said coldly. “But it reminds people of their place.”

“My place?” she repeated softly.

“Yes.” I replied.

“And what place is that, Hayden?” she asked, her voice broken.

I leaned closer and whispered into her ear, “The place I gave you.”

“You mean the cage,” she asked without taking a step from me as she held my gaze.

I just remained silent without saying anything.

“Show some respect,” I finally blurted out.

“That’s not respectful,” she said quietly. 

“Then what's it? I asked, looking at her.

“Obedience or rather forced one,” she replied.

“And you think there’s a difference?” I asked, looking at her.

“There is,” she blurted.

“Not in my world.” I snapped.

“That’s the problem with your world,” she snapped back, taking a step further away from me.

“My world kept you alive.” I corrected it with range.

“My world would have let me choose,” she said with a soft voice.

“Choice is a luxury people like you never had.” I stated vigorously.

“And people like you decide that?” she asked with shock on her face.

“Yes, because people like me understand power,” I said without hesitation.

“And people like me are supposed to kneel to it?” she asked as I could see fury in her eyes.

“Yes,” I replied with a firm voice.

She studied my face carefully. “You are afraid,” she said suddenly as she observed my expression.

The words hit harder than any insult and my grip tightened. “Watch your mouth,” I warned immediately.

“You are afraid Zach will take something from you,” she said without blinking.

It was like she poured water on me the moment she made that statement.

What could she be thinking? Is she aware of what Zach might be planning? Is she willing to allow herself to be taken from me?

Different thoughts flooded my mind immediately as I tried to comfort myself.

“He can’t take anything from me.” I snapped as I my fist coiled together.

“You are not sure about that,” she said as I could see a sense of fulfilment in her eyes.

“I’m very sure,” I said almost immediately.

“Then why are you angry?” she asked, looking at me as if she were reading my mind.

“I’m not angry.” I defended myself.

“You are furious,” she stated, very sure of what she was saying.

I leaned closer, my voice dropping dangerously low.

“Don’t make me remind you what happens when you try to step outside your role.” I warned furiously.

Her eyes didn’t waver as she kept her gaze, “And what role is that?” she asked as she looked straight into my eyes.

“You gave me survival,” she said quietly. “Not life.”

The words hung between us like a blade.

“You are pushing me tonight,” I warned.

“I’m telling you the truth,” she affirmed.

That last line snapped something inside me.

“Be very careful,” I said slowly.

“Why?” she asked confidently.

“Because admiration turns into betrayal,” I said.

She studied me for a long moment, then she spoke in a voice so calm it almost sounded gentle.

“You can lock every gate on this estate,” she said. “You can post guards on every wall but you can’t control what people feel because that’s the one thing you are losing control of.”

My lips curled into a thin smile as I tried to control my anger. I immediately grabbed her chin as I pinned her to the wall.

“If Zach wants a war,” I said coldly, “I will give him one. You belong to me, and no one can take you from me.”

She was just there, staring at me without fear or tears in her eyes, and that made me more furious.