Chapter Twenty-Four

Ava’s POV

I went back inside my room with the coffee still warm in my hands and the maid’s frightened voice still clear in my ears.

The realization from the kitchen followed me like a second shadow. Corren did not need to be standing in the doorway to enforce his rules. The entire household already moved according to them. Even the simple act of making coffee before sunrise had been enough to put someone else’s job at risk. I set the cup down on the table by the window and stood there for a moment longer, looking out at the gardens without really seeing them. The power he held was no longer abstract. It was in the walls, in the staff, in the quiet fear that lived under every polite interaction.

I pushed the thought aside as best I could and walked into the bathroom.

The water ran hot. I stepped under the spray and let it pour over my shoulders and down my back, hoping it would loosen the tight feeling in my chest. It only partially worked. My mind kept moving between the day ahead and the man who had shaped it. Today was the first day of school. A driver would take me beyond the gates. I would sit in classrooms and walk hallways that did not belong to Corren. The idea still felt fragile, as if it could be revoked the moment I disappointed him.

I washed carefully, dried off, and returned to the bedroom. The clothes from the shopping trip were still in their bags. I opened the one that held the navy dress he had chosen and laid it on the bed. It looked intentional and expensive, the kind of dress that made a quiet statement without needing to speak. I put it on, smoothed the fabric over my hips, and studied myself in the mirror. The woman looking back appeared composed. I was not certain she felt that way.

I dried my hair, tied it back neatly, and gathered the new bag he had selected for me. Inside it I placed a notebook, a pen, and the printed schedule I had prepared. My phone went into the side pocket. When I was ready I stood still for a final second and drew a slow breath. Then I left the room.

Corren was waiting in the foyer.

He was dressed for the office already—dark suit, precise tie, the same controlled presence he carried everywhere. His eyes moved over me from head to toe in a single, thorough assessment. Whatever he saw must have met his standard, because he gave a short nod and reached out to adjust the strap of the bag on my shoulder by a fraction.

“You look appropriate,” he said.

“Thank you.”

The driver was already outside with one of the black cars. Through the open door I could see the engine running. Corren walked me to the threshold but stopped me there with a light hand on my arm. The contact was brief, yet it carried the full weight of his attention. He looked down at me directly, eyes steady.

“Before you go,” he said, voice low enough that only I could hear it. “Your body belongs to only me. Anyone who looks for your trouble or wants you—you report to me. Immediately. Clear?”

Heat moved through my face and down my neck. The possessiveness in the statement was absolute. There was no room in it for misunderstanding. I nodded once.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Something satisfied flickered in his gaze. He released my arm and stepped back.

“Go. The driver has the address and the pickup time. Do not deviate.”

I walked down the front steps and into the waiting car. The door closed with a solid sound. Through the window I saw Corren still standing under the entrance, watching as the car pulled away. Only when the estate gates began to close behind us did I let out the breath I had been holding.

The drive into the city was smooth and quiet. The driver did not speak. I sat with my bag on my lap and watched the familiar high walls give way to open roads, then to the denser traffic of the urban streets. Each kilometer put more distance between me and the estate, yet Corren’s final instruction traveled with me. *Your body belongs to only me.* The words sat under my skin, heavy and warm at the same time. I pressed my knees together and tried to focus on the day ahead instead of the memory of his voice.

The university campus appeared after thirty minutes—low modern buildings, wide walkways, students already moving between them in loose groups. The driver pulled up at the main entrance and came around to open my door. I stepped out into the mild morning air, bag strap firm in my hand, and took my first real look at the place that was supposed to give me a small piece of ordinary life again.

Students passed on either side of me. Conversations drifted past in fragments. Someone laughed near the steps. For a moment it all felt almost normal. Then I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and started walking toward the main administrative building where I was meant to collect my final registration papers.

As I came down from the car the first face I saw, but didn't see the face clearly was the boy who I met in the supermarket. He just turned so I can't tell if he is the one or not.