Closer Than Ever

Morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but it did nothing to soften the tension in the penthouse. I lay on the edge of the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself I was safe now. That last night had been just a test—an assertion of power, nothing more.

But I knew better.

Adrian’s presence was already in the room before I even opened my eyes. A shadow at the doorway, silent, sharp, predatory. My chest tightened at the sight of him, the same way it always did: a mix of fear, defiance, and something else I didn’t want to admit.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low, measured, dangerous. “Good. I wanted to see you first.”

I tried to pull the covers around myself, to hide, to disappear. But he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He just stood there, and somehow, that was enough to make the air feel thick, suffocating.

“You’re tense,” he continued, taking a step forward. “I can feel it. Every heartbeat, every breath. You’re trying to act normal, but you’re lying to yourself.”

“I’m not—” I whispered, but my voice faltered.

“You are,” he cut me off sharply, closing the space until I could feel his heat. “…And you already know it. Your body reacts before your mind does. You cannot hide from me.”

My pulse jumped, heart hammering in a rhythm I hated. I wanted to tell him to leave. I wanted to run. But my legs wouldn’t move. I was trapped in his orbit, and he knew it.

Adrian circled me slowly, deliberately, eyes scanning me like a predator does its prey. I shivered where he passed, every inch of my skin aware of his presence. His gaze was heavy, intimate, claiming.

“You think you can resist me, Victoria?” he murmured, stopping behind me. His hand hovered near my shoulder—not touching, just claiming space. “That defiance won’t save you. Not from me.”

I swallowed hard. “I… I’m not—”

“You are,” he whispered, voice low, almost a growl. “And the sooner you admit it, the easier this will be. Fighting me… is exhausting. But I can play nice, if I want. For now.”

The possessiveness in his tone sent heat pooling in my stomach, a mixture of fear and unwanted desire. My mind screamed at me to resist. My body betrayed me, trembling under his gaze.

He stepped closer, hand brushing my waist lightly, testing, claiming. “Do you feel it? This tension? The pull between us? You try to fight it, but your body… betrays you. Already. And I will use it. Every hour, every day.”

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe, trying to convince myself it was just fear. But it wasn’t. Heat pooled in places I didn’t want to acknowledge. My chest ached, pulse racing, and my lips parted slightly, as if they knew a truth my mind refused.

“You will learn to obey,” he said softly, trailing a finger along my arm, down my side. “Obedience doesn’t mean weakness. It means knowing your place… your purpose… under me.”

I swallowed, trembling. “I… I won’t—”

His hand lifted to my chin, tilting my face so our eyes met. “You will. And the moment you realize it… Victoria… you’ll crave me. You’ll hate yourself for it. And I will enjoy it.”

The intensity of his gaze, the dark promise in his words, made my body betray me further. My heart raced, my stomach twisted, and I could barely catch my own breath.

Adrian stepped back just enough to let me process, though the air between us was still thick, almost electric. “Tonight, we start proper. And you will understand what it means to be mine. Every rule, every moment, every breath… claimed. Under me.”

I sank onto the sofa, trembling, chest heaving. My mind screamed This is wrong. I should resist. I must resist.

But deep down, I knew the truth: resistance wasn’t possible.

I was caught.

Completely.

Irrevocably.

And Adrian Vale…

Adrian Vale had me exactly where he wanted.

I closed my eyes, knowing that the real struggle wasn’t over. Not yet. The penthouse was silent, but the tension lingered, heavy, possessive, and alive, and I realized that every day under his control would be a battle. Not just of survival—but of heart, body, and mind.

And Adrian Vale had already claimed victory in ways I couldn’t admit, even to myself.