Chapter 5

Maya

I didn't know what to say. His words were still hanging in the air like an electric charge, buzzing through my veins. I couldn't escape the feeling that he wasn't just talking about me—he was talking about himself. That arrogant, unsettling confidence of his wasn't just a shield; it was a weapon.

I should have walked out. I should've turned on my heel, grabbed my bag, and left him standing there with that smirk on his face. But something kept me rooted to the spot, my feet glued to the ground as if I'd been paralyzed by the gravity of his words.

"You like trouble?" I finally managed, my voice quieter than I intended, but it made shivers ran down my spine. I couldn't help it—I was angry, confused, and, despite everything, a little intrigued.

His gaze darkened, his smirk deepened. "You don't know the half of it, Maya. But you will."

His words were like a challenge I couldn't ignore. I didn't know whether to be scared or furious, so I settled for both. "I didn't ask for any of this," I said, stepping back, needing space between us. But the distance didn't seem to matter. Roman was too imposing, too close, even if he wasn't physically touching me.

"You don't need to ask for it," he said, his voice low and smooth, like he was savoring the moment. "You're already here. And once you're here, there's no going back."

I shook my head, pushing past the knot of panic that was threatening to rise in my chest. "You think you can just control me, don't you?"

"I don't think. I know." His eyes glinted with something dark, something unreadable. He took a step toward me, and despite every instinct telling me to move away, I stayed frozen.

"I didn't ask for your help," I shot back, the words feeling almost like a shield.

Roman's lips curled up, almost pitying. "Help? I'm not here to help you, Maya. I'm here to keep you from making the same mistakes you've already made."

I felt my breath catch in my throat. What did he mean by that? What mistakes? "You don't know anything about me."

"Actually, I know quite a bit," he replied, his tone calm, too calm. "I know about the marriage your father arranged. The one you ran from. I know you're not some innocent runaway. You're trying to outrun your past, but you can't hide forever."

I took a shaky breath, my chest tight as if he had reached inside and gripped my heart with cold fingers. "You don't know what it's like. You don't understand."

"Then let me make it clear for you, Maya," he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You're mine now. Whether you like it or not. You're under my protection, and that comes with consequences."

I wanted to argue, wanted to push him away, but the words stuck in my throat. He was right in a way. I had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. But the thought of being tied to someone like him... it made my skin crawl and my heart race.

He reached out, his hand brushing against my arm, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I flinched but didn't pull away. His touch was too commanding, too overwhelming. And I hated myself for the way my body responded.

"I didn't ask for this either," I whispered, my voice almost lost. "But I'm not yours."

Roman chuckled softly, a sound that was both dangerous and somehow comforting. "Not yet, Maya. But you will be."

I pulled away from Roman, my mind whirling, trying to make sense of everything. His presence felt suffocating, and I needed air.

"I can't do this," I muttered under my breath, heading for the door. "You can't force me into whatever this is."

Before I reached the handle, his voice stopped me. "Leaving would be a mistake."

I didn't turn back. "Maybe I'm used to making mistakes."

"I don't think you are." His words hung in the air, like a warning. "Your pride's too strong for you to be someone's victim. But you'll learn, Maya. You'll learn that there are people in this world who own you the moment they look at you."

I gripped the door handle tighter, my knuckles turning white. This wasn't a game. This wasn't some power play. He meant it. And for a moment, I thought I could feel it—like an invisible thread tying me to him.

Then, a sharp knock on the door startled me. The interruption was a welcome break from the suffocating conversation.

Roman didn't flinch, but his gaze hardened, eyes narrowing as he shot me one last look before striding over to open the door.

Standing there was the man I'd seen with Roman the night before. I didn't know his name, but his cold stare made my skin crawl. He looked unusually tense, his eyes flickering between me and Roman, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

"Everything okay?" the man asked, his voice low and cautious.

Roman didn't answer immediately, his focus still on me. Then he turned back to the man, his expression unreadable. "Get it done. Now."

The man nodded once, stepping into the room. "Right away."

I didn't wait to hear the rest. I didn't want to know what was coming next. I had to get out of here.

But before I could take another step, Roman's voice again cut through my ears.

"I'll be waiting for you," he said, and I couldn't tell if it was a promise or a threat. Either way, it made the air in the room feel heavy.

I turned on my heel and walked out, the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. I didn't know what I had gotten myself into, but I was already in too deep.

And from the way Roman watched me go, I wasn't sure I could ever escape.

I cursed under my breath as I walked down the street, my stomach tight with anxiety. I'd left the damn envelope behind. The money. The one thing I thought would get me out of this mess. Now I had nothing—just the tight, barely-there club outfit I was forced to wear for that damn strip club. The heels clicked on the pavement with every step, reminding me that I was a walking target.

This wasn't how I thought my escape would go. I should've known better than to leave with only what I had on. But who knew the bastard would come after me like that?

I tried to ignore the stares from people as I walked, head down, moving faster than I should have. Every glance felt like a spotlight on me. The air was cold, the sharp morning light blinding as it bounced off the buildings, and I had no idea where I was going or what I was supposed to do now.

I kept walking, my heels clicking on the pavement like a countdown, when a bike shot past me, the rider barely missing me by inches. My heart slammed against my chest, and I had to leap sideways to avoid being clipped.

But in the process, my foot caught on a crack in the pavement, and I tumbled forward, hitting the ground hard with a sharp grunt. Pain flared through my palms as I caught myself before I could even process it,

"Watch where you're going, asshole!" I yelled at the biker who was already too far down the road making my words swallowed by the distance.

Just as I was about to pull myself up, a screech of tires broke the air, and a car slammed to a stop beside me. My heart skipped a beat, my body frozen for a split second as I glanced up.